Chapter 17 #2
I have a special antibacterial soap in my shower stall for long days where I’m with people or at the lab. Just because I don’t go in often, doesn’t mean I’m not cognizant of my need to be clean.
Scrubbing away under the warm spray, I hurry through washing my blonde hair. I enjoy the luxury of having multiple shower heads, but it’s also helpful when I need to get clean quickly.
Shutting the water off, I grab the warmed towel and dry myself. I have a well meaning bastard who will absolutely leave me if I don’t hurry.
I’m still unsure if I’m going to have to stow away in the trunk yet or not.
“Surly asshole,” I grumble. I’m tired from not sleeping, but I need to see Isolde before I pass out.
Forgoing boxers, I pull out a pair of dark gray joggers and a sweatshirt.
Getting dressed, I also put on thick socks and black boots to stay comfortable and warm.
I decide to allow my hair to dry naturally because I’ve realized that Isolde likes my curls, and then brush my teeth as quickly as possible.
Striding out of my bedroom after shoving my phone into my pocket, I catch sight of Grant jogging down the stairs.
“Fuck me,” I complain, following him.
“I would say any time, but you’re headed in the wrong direction,” Oliver calls out from his room.
Glancing over as I continue walking, I see Alesso is sleeping in his bed through the open door.
“The house is too empty,” he explains.
“I’ll be back. I need to see Isolde first,” I say, leaving him behind as I go down the stairs three at a time. Three days is way too long for me to be gone.
It’s funny how priorities change once you have a pack and an omega. I know Isolde needs peace of mind, I do as well.
It’s simply going to take longer than a few days in the lab to happen. I own enough land to be able to create my own space for my experiments to find a permanent solution to forcing a heat. However, due to the equipment I’ll need, it can’t be inside of my house.
Too many things can explode.
“Wait,” I snarl, watching the front door close behind Grant.
Fuck, he’s a real dickweed. I’m going to punch him if he leaves me here. I have aggression to work off if he continues to goad me that’s derived from being sleep deprived and grumpy.
Yanking open the front door, I slam it closed behind me, smirking as I hear Rita lock up. God bless that woman. She always seems to be everywhere at once.
Running forward. I slam my palm on the hood of the SUV as I walk around it toward the passenger side door.
Grant is already halfway inside the vehicle with the engine running, wide eyed with innocence.
Glaring at him, I get inside and pull on my seatbelt as he makes a big show of getting comfortable.
“I will strangle you and make it look like you died in your sleep,” I grumble.
“You would try,” he laughs, beginning to drive toward the gates.
“I fucking hate you,” I say, a yawn surprising me.
“You should be sleeping, grumpy,” Grant teases me.
“How am I supposed to sleep when all of this happened while I was gone?” I ask.
There’s a long moment of silence before I pull out my phone to begin brainstorming. I want, no need, my omega to be able to stay with me. She can keep the rental of wherever she’s staying, but I want sleepovers.
Glaring at my screen, I begin researching do it yourself homes that won’t take much time to put together. I can get plumbing and electrical work done much faster than construction.
“Do I need a permit to put together a shed on my property?” I ask absentmindedly.
“A shed…you aren’t sleeping in a shed,” he scoffs.
“Theoretically, how large would the shed have to be before I needed a permit?” I ask, steamrolling over his concerns. “I need to know for science purposes.”
“Lucas,” Grant growls at me.
Laughing in a tired, mildly unhinged, manner, I continued looking at different models.
“I think this will work,” I muse.
“Put your crackpot schemes away, Dr. Evil,” he says, lips twitching.
“I’m tired of not sleeping with my girl,” I complain. “My plan is faster than leveling the house down. It could be a mini home while I figure out what Isolde wants. She could help me plan out our new home. I want big play spaces. Our house isn’t built for tiny minds to explore.”
“Plural,” he says slowly.
“Whatever she wants,” I say firmly. “I like kids. They fascinate me whenever I volunteer at the community center downtown. Shit, it’s been awhile.”
“Don’t beat yourself up about that. We’ve been going through a busy time,” Grant reminds me. “We’ll head down there soon. For now… we’re here.”
I blink as he pulls into a home with a small porch in a modest neighborhood. There are flower beds that are bare now that’ll be pretty when spring rolls in. It’s obviously a well taken care of home.
Why is he renting out his home to my girl?
“Have you looked into who is renting this place?” I ask, glancing around.
“Yes. He’s a quiet empty nester who decided to take a traveling nursing job.
Mr. Troy Adamíc tried out the lifestyle before deciding to rent out his home at first. He’s a widower with three children that all grew up,” Grant explains.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if he needs to feel more needed than he was at the local hospital here. He’s not a creeper, Lucas. I checked.”
“Of course you did. This place just feels very domesticated for a rental,” I mutter. “I don’t know, it just feels odd.”
“It’s the place she needed,” Grant says, pushing open the car door. “She’s changed out several of the locks already.”
“How do you know that?” I ask, rethinking not having hit him yet.
“There’s trees surrounding this house. She hasn’t found them yet.”
“She’s going to shove her boot in your ass,” I snort, feeling very loopy from how tired I am.
It’s almost as if I disassociate from the time my foot hits the snow and the porch. I simply don’t remember it. Grant stands next to me, texting her from his phone.
“If the baby is sleeping, I don’t want to wake her up,” he explains.
Nodding because he’s right, I listen to see if I can hear her. Instead, it’s silent until I hear a baby make a small noise. The door opens, and there’s Isolde with a bat. She shoves it hard into Grant’s stomach until his hands flail and he falls off the fucking porch.
Raising my hands up, I wait to see if I receive the same treatment.
“You can come in,” she mutters. “He lied and said he wouldn’t tell anyone where I live.”
“Technically, I was along for the ride,” I say slowly.
“Oops,” she winces, watching as Grant stands, rubbing his stomach.
“You could have swung at me if you really wanted to hurt me,” he says.
“Then you know how lucky you are,” she says. “You still should have told me. Sit on the porch and don’t freeze. You’re in time out.”
“Lucas is safe from your wrath?” he asks, grinning. I think this is how they flirt.
“I need him to hold Leila so I can shower,” she says.
It’s now that I can see the shadows under her eyes and I decide my nap can fuck itself for now.
“Let me make myself some coffee, darlin’, and I’m your guy,” I say with a smile. “Grant only told me on the drive home.”
Isolde scowls at him in her leggings and a large sweatshirt. Hmm, she needs one of mine too so she’ll wear it instead…
That’s the last thought I have before she throws the bat at him. Grant barely ducks in time, because it was headed for his head. Instead it hits the ground harmlessly.
“I’ll be here guarding the house with my new weapon, Little Nightmare,” he smirks. “Thanks for caring.”
“You twisted what I asked on me,” she snarls, turning and walking back inside. “Coffee, Lucas?”
“Don’t mind if I do,” I murmur, following her in as I close the door firmly on Grant.