Chapter 35 Tessa #2
When I reached for her, Tray lifted Josie higher, turned her around, nuzzled her nose with his, and then plopped her gently into my outstretched arms. I giggled—I couldn’t help myself—when I saw the flour transferred onto Tray’s face.
He grinned wider, swiping his hand to knock off the white powder.
“You didn’t stay clean for long, silly cat.” I scratched between her ears. The flour wasn’t like street grime. It wasn’t dark and sticky. She was still cleaner than she normally was.
“Why don’t you take Josie and Tessa to the suite to clean up,” Ryder spoke, pulling a phone from his back pocket. “I’m going to order breakfast from Cafe Fleur.” He glanced at me with a knowing smile. “I’ll buy all the fresh fruit they can spare.”
My stomach, for the millionth time, growled. “Thanks.”
“You don’t ever have to thank me, Tessa.” God, his eyes were so warm.
“All right, flour child,” Tray prompted, speaking more to Josie than me I think, “let’s go.”
He turned to lead the way, but before I could follow, Ryder grabbed my hand and gently adjusted it so that my palm was open to the ceiling.
I looked at him, unsure of what he was doing, but his eyes were focused down.
So, I also looked down. His own hand slipped into his pocket; when it reappeared, he was holding something in his closed fist, but all I could see was a hint of bright pink.
He placed it against my open palm, then curled my fingers around the item.
My pulse quickened at the shape. A hollow circle.
The flash of pink registered. I’d thought I’d lost it.
“Ryder,” I could barely say his name, my voice cracked with emotion as I took in the sight of Josie’s collar. “Thank you.”
“Thank you, Tessa. For coming back into my life just when I was losing hope.” He brushed a hand gently against the side of my face, his touch trailing down my neck and curving over the dress’s neckline. “Go relax. I’ll get you when breakfast is ready.”
I nodded, unable to speak again.
Tray led the way and once we arrived, he flung the doors inward then stepped to the side to let me enter first.
This time walking into the space didn’t feel so daunting, since the possibility of a product inspection with intimidating giant Alphas wasn’t on the agenda.
I only moved a few feet into the suite before pausing though.
I really hadn’t taken in the enormity of the space yesterday and today it made me feel strangely small.
The sheer opulence of the suite washed over me, drowning my senses and confirming how very far from the streets I’d landed.
I could almost walk on the plush shag rug and pretend I was home again.
Homelessness afforded no softness. Josie, as if already completely aware that this was her new palace, pushed away from my body to land gracefully on the floor.
She shook her little body, sending another puff of flour into the air, and then darted towards the wall with the tree shaped cat shelving.
I think that was the thing that truly made me want to stay here and accept this as my future.
These guys—who’d apparently had a contract that prohibited me from bringing any personal items, but especially something like a cat—had not only compromised but had gone above and beyond to embrace Josie’s arrival.
I smiled, the slightest upturn of lips, and then immediately frowned when I awoke the trail of flour my precious cat had left in her wake.
“Oh…crap. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let her jump down until we cleaned her up.” I crouched down, swiping at the closest marks of flour with the hem of the silky dress.
Tray dropped down beside me, his hands closing around mine and stopping their motion. “We’ve got people for that,” he said gently. “And it’s just a little flour.”
“I know, but your house is so nice. I don’t want to mess it up.” I bit my lower lip, wishing he’d release my hands so I could keep cleaning.
“Our house,” Tray said firmly, “can be repaired. But you won’t mess it up, Tessa. Unless you’re like Dixon and prone to punching walls.”
That last bit made my chest tighten a little, a new fear unlocking that these Alphas might have darker sides I hadn’t seen yet. He seemed to read my sudden discomfort.
“Don’t worry about Dixon. Honestly, before he started going feral, he couldn’t even squash a house spider. Giant, teddy bear usually. With you here, that guy will return full time.”
I blinked over at him. Tray’s deep brown eyes were so honest.
“I promise, Tessa. What you see is what you get with us. No bad surprises.” He gave my hand a squeeze and then stood up, reaching for me to help me also stand.
When our fingers knitted together, a calming warmth flowed between us.
This was the first time I’d been alone with just one of the guys.
Tray smelled almost tropical, with an undercurrent of spice.
His scent was playful. Being close to him made my Omega nature feel almost giddy.
“Okay, let’s do the grand tour,” Tray announced theatrically, arms spreading wide.
I couldn’t stop a shy laugh; the soft sound somehow echoed around the room, amplifying as it traveled. “It definitely beats a fridge box in an underpass.”
Tray, to his credit, only froze a heartbeat before continuing.
I liked that he didn’t focus on my comment.
I shouldn’t have said it. I didn’t want to make any of them uncomfortable, but I also couldn’t just erase the past twenty plus months.
I had a feeling, no matter how hard I tried, mentioning my shitty past was going to keep happening.
“Unlike me and the guys, this place holds a few secrets.” He waggled his eyebrows then strode to the right and towards…
I don’t know what. The wall? Curiously, I watched as Tray pressed gently with both hands.
On closer inspection, I saw a slim line running down the length of the wallpaper.
A soft pop revealed hidden double doors.
He stepped back as they slowly swung outward on their own.
It was all very cloak and dagger, especially considering behind the trickster wall was a closet bigger than my childhood bedroom.
Rows of designer dresses hung elegantly, each one more stunning than the last. I recognized a few of the designers, their signature touches obvious.
When was the last time I flipped through a current fashion magazine?
God…it had been ages. My sense of style was crazy outdated.
I was still caught in time, the old me remembering the fashion week couture that had me drooling while trying to decide on a nineteenth birthday ensemble.
So much time debating dress versus tailored femme suit.
So much time considering whether hair down was better than an updo.
So much time spent planning a party that never happened.
We were supposed to celebrate after the ski trip.
It would have been the weekend after my Wednesday birthday.
My parents had left a pile of expertly wrapped presents in a tower next to the palatial stairs of our home.
They’d threatened me with no credit cards for a year if I peeked.
Tray flicked a switch, and new lights glowed to life, illuminating heels of every color and style lining floor-to-ceiling shelves.
Purses hung from silvery hooks and a velvet chaise lounge at the center of it all anchored the space.
I stepped inside, forgetting myself for a moment as excitement bubbled up within me.
It felt surreal to once again have access to a closet of my own filled with clothes in my actual size.
I’d given up thinking I’d ever return to even a pale imitation of my old life.
I’d started hoping for ‘enough’. Enough money.
Enough food. Enough clothing that wasn’t secondhand and either too big or too small.
A tiny sliver of me felt wrong for feeling joy.
My loved ones would never come back, and I was giddy over gowns.
Was this something I even deserved? Would it even last?
God, even if this all vanished tomorrow, couldn’t I just enjoy the fantasy now?
“Welcome to Wardrobe Wonderland.” Tray was leaning against the doorframe with a playful grin.
I was still staring at everything, absorbing it all… and trying to find where the everyday clothing was stored. I seriously hoped these guys didn’t expect me to prance around in a mermaid McQueen.
“It’s all stunning, but—” I clamped my lips together. If I said it, I’d sound so damn ungrateful.
“But…” Tray pressed.
“Are there any normal clothes?” Anxiety washed over me, waiting for his reaction.
“You don’t parade around in ballgowns every day? Maybe the pamphlet on Omega girls we got was off base.” He crossed his arms and frowned.
“They’re great,” I whirled around, raising my arms and indicating everything, “All of this is great. And ballgowns are great. If that’s what you guys have, I’m so grateful. I just was thinking about, you know, sleeping? Or… maybe swimming since you have a pool?”
“Tessa, I’m joking.” Tray’s grin bloomed anew as he left the wall and walked past me. He took a sharp right after the chaise lounge and disappeared from view. “There’s a whole other section over here. Come look.”
Feeling stupid that I hadn’t seen the obvious, I followed his voice. And when I found him, I also found rows and rows of casual shirts, jeans, loungewear, active wear, tennis shoes.
“If I can’t even find this, then I’m a hopeless case.” I tried to play off how dumb I felt.
“We’ll get you a map,” Tray winked. “Come on, pick something comfy and I’ll show you the bathroom next. I’m going to go see what our precocious feline is up to.”
He moved away, giving me space to choose without being watched.
I appreciated that. I could screw up even the simplest task under scrutiny.
It dawned on me as I pulled open a drawer to reveal underwear and bras, that Tray had said ‘our’ about Josie, and it hadn’t bothered me at all. I wasn’t sure how to feel about that.
I walked out of the closet with incredibly soft sweatpants and plain white shirt—though the look of it was deceiving and the brand was expensive.
Tray was at the wall mounted cat tree, scratching Josie who now lounged on one of the hammocks.
“She’s pretty much shaken off all the flour,” he said once I came into view.
“She smells like tea and fresh bread. I can’t believe my parents never wanted a pet. ”
“She used to constantly smell like day-old tuna,” I quipped, joining him and giving Josie a quick head pat.
Tray leaned in close to Josie and whispered loudly. “Don’t listen to her. I bet you always smelled like roses.”
I grinned at that. Tray probably couldn’t even imagine how badly a cat, or a person, started to smell after a week of dumpster diving without a single shower.
“So, the bathroom?” I prompted.
“As my Omega commands.” He gave me a silly salute and Josie one more chin tickle.
We made our way across the room, passing the oversized bed with the plush comforter calling my name.
My fingers brushed against the soft material.
Tears pricked my eyes when I felt its smoothness.
My old life flooded in for a heartbeat, silken sheets and fresh cotton softener that clung to the material between washings.
“You okay?” Tray had turned, walking backwards, his eyes locked with mine.
I nodded, fighting back the emotions. “I’m okay.”
“Well,” his tone shifted jokingly, maybe trying to lighten the mood. “If the bed makes you cry, wait until you see the bathtub.”
A few minutes later I was alone in a giant bathroom.
The shower might as well be a carwash, and the freestanding tub could easily hold four.
I was pretty small, so maybe it could even hold five.
The idea of us all in the bath together sent warmth rushing through me.
God, I’d just been close to crying, and now I was thinking about my wet, naked body pressed up against these Alphas I’d only just met.
Still though, as I closed the plug, turned on the faucet, and a stream of hot water began to pour into the waiting tub, I kept imagining the possibilities. I wanted them. Needed them. And soon, when my heat finally struck, I’d not be trying to nest alone on the streets.
A fancy glass jar perched on a pretty white shelf was marked lavender soaking salts. Beside that was a pump bottle marked bubbles of fun. I had a feeling Tray wrote that second label; it seemed his style.
I started humming one of my favorite Oblivion Haze songs as I dumped a scoop of the soaking salts into the quickly-filling tub, followed by a few pumps of bubble bath soap.
Frothy white began to form, rising quickly with the water.
It smelled amazing. Stripping quickly, I threw my right leg over the tub and sucked in a breath at the scorching temperature.
I didn’t adjust the faucet knobs though.
I wanted to feel the sting as I lowered my body into volcanic water.
This wasn’t a quick shower at the shelter where how much warmth you get was purely determined by your spot in line. As my body sunk lower into the water, breasts submerging, I wondered if this all could really last.
Here. With them. Forever.