Chapter 18
I wasn't sure what I expected the Lombardi pack house to look like, but a massive, airy, light blue Victorian with white trim hadn’t crossed my mind in a million years. Maybe not in a billion, it was just so… normal.
Not that it made sense to pull up in front of something out of the Addam’s Family either, but… there was really no explaining the downright confusion I felt as Indigo opened my door, offering their hand to help me out of the car.
Their fingers dwarfed mine as I stepped onto the gravel driveway, the rocks shifting under my sneakers with a crunch. I hardly felt the bite of the winter air with Indigo so close, their body heat leeching from their skin and into mine as I kept close, staring up at the large, airy windows.
“Wow, your place is—”
“I know,” the alpha complained, nose wrinkling with distaste as they squeezed my hand. “The fuckin’ HOA won’t let us change it, something about being in a historical neighborhood or some other bull—”
It was silly, but internally I pouted at the loss of contact.
“Please, please, don’t get them started.” Joon interrupted as he slid across the seats towards the door, taking Indigo’s hand when the alpha offered it to him as well, helping him out of the car after me. “We’ll be here all day listening to them bitch.”
“I like it,” I said quickly, giving Indigo a grin as they took one of our hands in each of theirs, leading us along the stone path towards the porch. “It’s like a fairytale, or something.”
Winter was never good for curb appeal, but it was easy to imagine how the rock-ringed flower beds and bushes would come alive in the spring, offering a bouquet of colors and textures for the eyes.
Charming, even in my imagination.
“Wait until you see the inside,” huffed Joon behind us. “Villian lair central.”
Whatever ideas that’d started to form about the inside of the house popped like a bubble.
“Villian lair?” I asked in confusion, pausing at the bottom of the steps.
Indigo shot their partner a look that told him to behave as they passed to head up the stairs. “It’s a home. Joon is just mad that I wouldn’t let him paint my room yellow.”
“It would be nice to see something a little less depressing than black!” the omega countered, their hand finding the small of my back for a soft nudge to follow Indi.
I was grateful he’d come with his alpha to pick me up, especially since neither of them tried to force conversation on the drive.
Their constant bickering and teasing gave me time for my nerves to settle, the embarrassment of being afraid of my own apartment withering away in the glow of the streetlights.
It was kind of a surprise, given how things had been the last time I’d had any real face time with either of them, but… with just a few minutes in Indi’s car, days of anxiety and discomfort slipped away with every hum Indi made along to the radio or brush of Joon’s thigh against mine.
Maybe the other night on stream had been a bigger step forward than I thought.
I hoped so, hoped that Cameo’s offer was as much the work of Indi and Joon as it was his. That they wanted me as much as he did.
As much as I wanted them.
There was something between the three of us, I knew that. And it was clear that they did too. It was just a matter of who was going to make the first move.
The porch lights clicked on automatically, bathing the white painted wood in a wash of warm light. A pair of rocking chairs waited to the side of the door, like this was the home of some seventy-five-year-old pack instead of a den full of late twenty-somethings.
A bit silly, but bit by bit I was learning that when it came to this pack, what was on the surface was only a fraction of the story.
Am I really going to do this? Have this pack’s baby?
I’d been trying to work out the answer since Cameo made the offer, but the more I thought about it the more confused I got. Sure, I wanted the money, but there was another reason that I’d finally broken down and agreed.
Four somethings, if I was totally honest with myself.
My eyes met Indigo’s, far too briefly as I crossed over the threshold into the pack house with a feeling like I’d already signed the contract. Standing there, on the immaculately clean hardwood in my scuffed up shoes… it felt like I was right where I wanted to be.
“Welcome to our home,” the alpha said as they moved to take my jacket, hands grazing my shoulders as they slid the fabric away.
“Thank you,” I said, clearing my throat against the squeak in my voice.
Minutes ago, I’d been so terrified of my own shadow I couldn’t even see straight. And now? I was standing in the front hall of a pack I barely knew, feeling safer and more cared for than I’d been in my entire life.
Was this the power of a scent match? The inescapable pull towards the salted caramel scented alpha and their kind, dark brown eyes that I just wanted to—
"Of course, doll," Indigo said with a cheerful wink, the endearment rolling off their tongue like it was nothing as they hung my jacket, putting their hand out to do the same for Joon.
I turned to hide my blush and my breath caught. If I had to guess, the charming alpha and the complete shock of the house from the other side of the front door were equally to blame.
What the fuck?!
Where the outside of the Lombardi home was a pastel dream that made birthday cakes seethe with jealousy, the inside was, well, a goth’s wet dream.
The front hall, which looked to go the length of the house until it reached the kitchen on the far side, was broken up by a pair of darkly stained French doors on either side.
Tall trim came up to my rib cage in the same color, met with a beautiful deep green wallpaper that offered a subtle sheen from the lamps dotting every flat surface.
Tiffany, I think the style was called. A bit like stained glass and offering something on the side of a low, warm glow instead of enough light to read by.
Moody.
A large, hanging light fixture was the room's centerpiece. It looked like it was made of wrought iron, coiling into different woven rods with warm-toned light bulbs at the ends that’d been left purposefully bare.
“Okay,” I said with a blink, taking in the beautifully carved railing of the staircase halfway down the hall. “Maybe I see what Joon was saying.”
"Do you want a tour?" Indi asked, the excitement in their voice obvious.
“They’ll only point out the friendly ghosts,” Joon said dryly, passing me with a playful nudge of their hip in their sock feet. “Promise.”
I laughed, even though I wasn’t entirely sure that he was joking. “Absolutely. You did this all by yourself, Indi?”
“Cameo and Marcus did some of the heavy lifting,” the alpha said, leading me into the set of double doors on the left, to a sitting room with a fabulous caramel leather sofa and high bookshelves. “But I did the design work and sourcing, with a little help from a friend of mine in antiques.”
The chairs sitting opposite, facing away from the stone fireplace towards the windows, looked more like they belonged in a museum than sat on.
The avocado green velour played off the deep eggplant of the walls in a feast for the eyes that could’ve easily landed between the pages of a home design magazine.
They made magazines for people who hated Millennial grey, right?
“Have you ever thought about playing the Zims?” I asked, grinning as Indigo put their arm around my shoulders, Joon’s hand finding mine.
“I’ve clocked a few hours,” they chuckled, steering me towards the next area, a formal dining room that’d make Count Dracula himself jealous.
“Wait, what was that room on the other side when we came in?”
"That's Cameo's hobby room and office," Joon said in an amused tone. "If you ask, I'm sure he'll show you around."
I paused at the door for a minute, wondering what kind of hobby the strange alpha would have. Knitting seemed pretty unlikely, but the idea of finding Cameo tucked into a cozy chair with a pair of needles in hand drew a smile to my face anyway.
Deciding that my version of events was more interesting than anything that Indigo and Joon would share, I let the subject drop. Besides, Cameo was sure to tell me himself sooner rather than later, and I wanted to hold onto the ridiculous vision of him knitting pastel baby hats as long as I could.
“This must’ve taken forever,” I said to Indi as I took in the massive oval table. “How did you even find ten chairs that match?”
“Got lucky at an estate sale,” they said. “Got the table at the same place, it’s a shame we barely use it.”
“Except on Sundays,” Joon chimed in, but I was only half listening.
At the end of the table they’d hung a massive, almost true to life painting of a woman in a white gown. Her dark brown eyes seemed to follow me as I walked around the room, downturned lips set into a permanent judgy frown.
I couldn’t help it, I shook off Indigo’s arm to hop back and forth, but no matter where I was, it felt like we were making direct eye contact.
Creepy.
“What’s Sunday?" I asked, assuming that since neither of them commented on my tilting, it probably meant they’d done the same thing.
“Pack dinner,” Indi answered, the thread of a laugh in their voice. “Cameo comes from a big pack, he insists it’s the only reason they didn’t kill each other.”
If I signed the contract, would I be expected to come to those? Or were incubators exempt from family activities?
“Huh,” I said, looking to Joon. “He doesn’t seem the big happy family type, does he?”
“You’d be so shocked,” Joon chuckled. “He’s the one spearheading this whole thing, you know? Anyway, enough about Cameo! I want to show you our room. Come on?”
I nodded, letting the excitable omega tow me back to the hall and up the stairs with Indigo following closely behind.
It was… nice. I’d half expected things to still be a little tense between the three of us. But it was comfortable, following Joon through the house with my hand in his.