Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Accepting Foster and Shepherd’s help isn’t as easy as my exhausted brain made me believe.
It’s been three days since I fell asleep on the couch, and the tug-of-war between us has nearly reached a breaking point.
They want to take things off my plate. To share the chores and childcare, but any time I see them cleaning or playing with Kaitlin, a sense of worthlessness fills me.
If they are able to fill those roles, where does that leave me?
It’s a silly line of thinking. One driven by the ideals I was forced to learn and embody growing up.
Shaking those thoughts is like getting new shoes when the soles wear out.
You have to wear them to break them in, and sometimes they leave blisters.
Changing the way I think won’t happen overnight.
There will be difficulties, times when I fall back to those old patterns.
Reminding myself where I am and who I am with helps. Sometimes.
“I thought we agreed I was on dinner duty tonight.” Shepherd scowls as he takes in the bowls and ingredients scattered across the counter. His scent has a slightly acidic edge, sharper than it normally smells.
Setting the last of the eggs beside the rest of my supplies, I turn to meet his glare. “We did, and you are. I’m only making dessert.”
His eyes narrow, jaw ticking. “Tell me what you want to make, and I’ll do it.”
“I’ve got it.” My eyes roll when his chest rumbles.
He can growl all he wants; I will not let him order me away from my task.
I also do not want to admit what I am making.
His smug grin would be too much for me to handle without perishing from embarrassment.
“I’m having pregnancy cravings,” I admit.
It’s not the whole truth, but close enough that he won’t be able to tell from my scent.
“Fine,” he grunts, throwing his hands up. “What the baby wants, the baby gets. But you will leave the dishes for me to do later.”
“Yes, Alpha.” The words roll right off my tongue before my brain can catalogue them. So full of sass that I can almost taste it. I tense, uncertain if he will take the admission to mean more than it does.
A purr vibrates to life in his chest, and his eyes fill with a heat so scorching it makes my knees weak. He takes a step closer, fingers reaching out to pinch my chin and tilt my head back until I’m looking up at him. “I adore your sparks, Wildfire. They’re proof of how strong you are.”
Just as quickly, he drops his grip and walks away, leaving me in stunned silence. I’m so turned on, I don’t know what to do with myself. What’s a woman to do when the walls are paper-thin and she shares a bed with her four-year-old?
Shaking my head, I focus on baking. This is one craving I can actually satisfy.
Biting back a smile, I nudge Kaitlin’s arm with my elbow. “You may be done as long as your belly is full.”
We’re having a late dinner after another day of splashing in the pool outside.
The humidity should have warned us of the incoming rain, but we hadn’t noticed until it poured down on us.
After rushing inside, I swept my little bug into a bath while Shepherd made dinner.
The steak, spiced potatoes, and corncobs were very filling after an exhausting day.
Which is probably why my ravenous daughter scarfed half of her food down before her eyes started slipping closed every couple of seconds.
“Okay, Mommy. I be done, please.”
Nodding, I start to stand to clear her plate, but Foster beats me to it.
“I’ve got it! I heard you made dessert. Something sweet sounds amazing after such a savory dinner.
” Heat immediately floods my cheeks as he walks the short distance to the kitchen and grabs the foil-wrapped tray sitting at the back of the counter.
How could they miss that the thing I’ve been craving is the exact dessert Foster smells like?
When I was baking earlier, all I could think of was satisfying the craving I’ve been having lately. Now, hours later, when I know these two are going to enjoy them too, embarrassment is seeping in. There is no way they will open the container and not realize the implications.
“C’mon, princess.” Shepherd steps around the table and swings Kait into his arms. “Let’s get you settled on the couch with a movie and a blanket before you fall asleep.
” Her tiny arms wrap around his neck, hugging him tight.
The sight of her nestling against his chest sends butterflies into flight in my stomach.
There is no way either of us is walking away from this safe house with our hearts intact.
The sound of foil rustling snaps my attention back to the table.
My eyes are wide as I watch Foster unwrap the lemon bars.
His lips part, mouth falling open as the wonderful aroma of citrusy lemons and sugary sweetness fills the air, with a hint of buttery shortbread to balance the other scents out.
The distinct notes of his scent swell as his eyes flicker to meet mine.
There is something so… human about his smell that it’s easy to tell what is coming from him and what is from dessert.
“Delicious,” Shepherd groans, rejoining us.
One of his thick arms wraps around Foster’s shoulders, and his nose presses against the Omega’s neck.
His deep inhale is audible, drawing dampness between my thighs.
Fates, I want to do that too. Get close enough to pick apart all the intricate details of both of their scents.
Choking back a sigh of longing, I distract myself by grabbing the small stack of plates and spreading them out. “I can serve.”
“No way, Angel. You baked us these treats, so sit your pretty ass down and let us serve you.”
I know Foster is talking about the lemon bars, but it doesn’t sound like he’s talking about them at all. The heat in his expression definitely seems like he’s hinting at something more.
As he slices the bars and carefully pulls them out to plate them, the muscles in his forearms cord. Who knew watching a man serve dessert could be so enthralling? The way he moves and flexes… it’s almost erotic. That’s weird, right? To be turned on by a guy’s arms?
They both wait, watching me as I slice off a small piece and bring it to my mouth.
Flavor bursts across my tongue, as close to what I’m craving as I can get without crossing boundaries.
A moan slips up my throat, earning matching grins before they dig into their plates.
The tension between the three of us is so thick it feels like we might suffocate on it.
Yet I cannot do anything but watch them from afar, not without compromising a future custody battle against Colin.
Sometimes, the path Fate leads us on can really suck.
After Foster and I washed dishes, we joined Kaitlin on the couch for a rainy evening movie night.
One of the popular kids’ princess movies plays on the TV with the volume muted.
Foster was the one who suggested we binge them, mentioning it was “appalling” that my daughter hadn’t been allowed to enjoy the “childhood staples” before now.
Having never seen them myself, I didn’t get why he was so adamant, but after the first movie, I began to understand.
The animation is well done, and the stories are super cute. Kait is certainly enamored of them.
Foster’s head lies against my leg, his feet stretched to rest on Shepherd’s lap.
Kaitlin is tucked against my hip, her feet thrown over Foster’s legs and one arm tossed across his chest. He doesn’t seem to mind that she is using us both as a pillow.
He gives her a soft look and pulls her blanket up a little higher to cover her shoulders.
“Want me to take her to bed?” Shepherd asks. This Alpha surprised me by singing along, filling the room with squeals and giggles. His performing alongside the story made our night much more entertaining!
Shaking my head, I rake my fingers through her dark, messy locks. “Not yet. She’d probably wake up, and I’m not ready to move.” Not when I’m so close to them. When it feels like we’re just a pack enjoying a night in together.
Rain pelts the windows and roof. The only sound in the quiet house except the sound of us breathing. It’s peaceful. The exact opposite of my life outside these walls. I want to embrace these moments of perfection while they last.
“Hannah, can I ask you something?” Foster turns his stunning aquamarine eyes up to look at me.
“You just did,” I tease. “But I suppose you can ask another question.”
He shifts, pulling Kaitlin to settle beside him so he can see my face without straining.
His dark hair is messy from being pressed against the cushions for so long.
My fingers itch to detangle the curls, to feel his scalp beneath my nails.
I swallow down the urge, not wanting to risk ruining our peace.
I should have, because Foster does exactly that when he opens his mouth.
“Why did you stay with Colin?”
My hand stills halfway through Kaitlin’s hair.
A rush of feelings bubbles to the surface, passing from one to the next too quickly for me to make sense of them.
Undercurrents of regret and fear coat each one, wrapping them in a protective bubble too thick for me to penetrate.
I’ve spent years burying the what-ifs, the true depth of my feelings, and the betrayals enacted against me. They feel too far out of reach now.
“It’s complicated.” My answer is lame, monotone. These men are patient. They sit and wait for me to collect my thoughts. I’m sure they would stay here all night listening to me talk, so long as it meant they gained some small piece of me.
Why does that make me want to cry?
Am I so starved for honest attention that having them want to learn things about me, even the bad things, brings tears to my eyes?