Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Nathaniel
I hover outside Chloe’s door, my heart pounding in an erratic rhythm. Her sweet, floral scent wafts under the door, tempting me to draw closer.
A few days have passed since we presented her with a permanent space in the Homestead, and I’ve been struggling to find moments to spend time alone with her. When Blake informed me that I was not allowed down at the job site today, I took it as the nudge I needed.
Swallowing hard, I wipe my palms on my jeans and straighten my polo shirt before I rap my knuckles on the door, the sound echoing down the empty hallway.
“Chloe? It’s Nathaniel.” I try to mask the slight tremor of nerves. “Do you have a minute?”
My ears strain, picking up the faint rustling of fabric and light footsteps padding closer. My pulse thunders in my ears as I wait, second-guessing whether I should intrude on her privacy instead of just waiting for her to emerge.
I know she’s trying to get back into the swing of work, despite still recovering. What if I’m messing with her progress?
Before I can talk myself into retreating, the handle turns and the door opens. Chloe’s eyes widen in surprise when she finds me on the other side, and a rosy blush rushes to her cheeks as she touches the quilted jacket that swallows her small form.
I recognize it as the one I keep by the back door in the kitchen. Seeing her wearing it eases my anxiety.
Her sock-covered toes curl on the hardwood floor as she peeks up at me from beneath her lashes. “Hey, what’s up?”
I marvel at her ability to act so nonchalantly when electric currents crackle in the space between us. Does she feel it, too? This magnetic pull, the instinctive urge to reach out and touch?
I shove my restless hands into the pockets of my khakis. “I wanted to check in to see how you’re settling in and all. Need anything?”
A smile curves her glossy lips, making me wonder what they taste like. “I’m good, thanks. I think Dominic went a little overboard with stocking my closet. I’m still finding new things.”
“That’s great.” I hover, tongue-tied, desperate to prolong this interaction but unsure how. “Well, I’m around. If you need anything.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she murmurs.
For a moment, we just stare at each other, the silence buzzing with all the things left unsaid.
Then she steps back, slender fingers curling around the door. “See you later, Nathaniel.”
“Yeah. See you.”
The door clicks shut, and I want to kick myself. This isn’t the first time I’ve spoken to an Omega, so why am I acting like a tongue-tied teenager?
I linger, palm pressed flat on the wood, still feeling the heat of her nearness. My Alpha rages, demanding I throw the door open again and cross the threshold into her space, but I resist.
With a growl of frustration, I pivot on my heel and stride away.
This hellish wanting will be the end of me.
In need of a distraction, I fish my phone from my pocket, unlocking it with a swipe of my thumb. Emails, messages, missed calls… I scroll through them, absorbing nothing, my attention still snagged on the Omega I left behind that closed door.
How’s her arm? The question burns on my tongue, concern and guilt twisting like a knife in my gut. Is she still in pain? It should be almost healed by now. Does she have a doctor’s appointment set to have the cast removed?
I should have asked. I wanted to ask. But the words lodged in my throat, trapped behind my teeth.
Stupid. Cowardly.
I pause mid-stride, shoulders tightening. No. I refuse to dance around her, bite my tongue, and pretend I don’t care. She’s mine to protect, even if she doesn’t know it yet.
Pivoting on my heel, I retrace my steps, determination propelling me forward.
My Alpha growls in approval as I near her door again, the silver ring on my finger glinting as I raise my fist to knock.
“Chloe?” I clear the roughness from my throat. “It’s me again. Can we talk?”
Silence. Then the soft pad of footsteps again. The door swings open, and she nibbles on her plump bottom lip as she gazes up at me. “Hey, what do you need?”
“How’s your arm?” I gesture to the bright pink cast. “Any pain still?”
“No pain, though it itches. I can’t wait to get the cast off.” Her expression softens, and she pulls the door open wider in invitation. “Would you like to come in?”
“Yes, I would.” My pulse kicks up a notch as I step across the threshold into her private space, senses enveloped by her pheromones.
They’re not strong, yet, but that will change the longer she stays here. I inhale, catching hints of vanilla and smoked applewood from two of my bondmates.
I ignore the urge to push out my pheromones, to add mine to her space, and turn to face Chloe. “Am I interrupting your work?”
“Honestly, I appreciate the distraction.” Her focus shifts to the open laptop on her desk. “I’ve been working on cleaning up my social media accounts.”
A frown pulls her lips downward when she turns back to me. “Do you know about that?”
I wrack my mind. “The hacker?”
“Yeah. They made a huge mess of things, confusing my reader base. I had to go through and delete all the false posts, then make a general announcement about getting hacked.” She hugs my jacket closer for comfort, and my Alpha rumbles with approval. “Which means now I’m dealing with all the people who are upset that what was promised won’t be delivered.”
“Sounds rough.” I want to fix it for her, but I don’t know anything about social media or marketing. “Don’t you have a personal assistant to handle it?”
“Yeah.” Her head drops. “Grady did all of that stuff for me. He was kind and only sent me the positive screencaps. Because of him, I didn’t have to deal with trolls or messes. I miss that.”
I curse myself for bringing up such a sore topic. My mouth opens, though I have no idea what I plan to say.
The cell phone buzzing on her nightstand saves me.
Chloe flinches at the sound, her face paling. “One sec.”
She walks to her desk and snatches up the phone, her knuckles white as she grips it. A note of scorched flowers fills the air as she stabs at the screen, then opens a drawer in the desk and drops the device inside.
My protective instincts surge to the surface, a growl building in my throat. Who could be calling that would cause such a visceral reaction? My mind races with possibilities, each more unsettling than the last. I want to demand answers, to track down whoever caused her distress and destroy them.
But I force myself to remain calm, not wanting to add to her anxiety. “Everything okay?”
Chloe’s gaze darts to mine, vulnerability in her expression before she lowers her head. “Yeah, it’s just…”
She trails off, worrying her lower lip between her teeth.
I take a step closer, my hand itching to reach out and smooth the furrow between her brows. “You can talk to me. I’m a good listener.”
Her head lifts, her pink eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “It’s my mother. Or Louie. I don’t know which. Either way, I don’t want to speak to them.”
Anger rises that they would dare call her after everything they put her through. “I’m guessing you’ve tried to block the number?”
“It never stops my mom.” She tips her head back, blinking away the tears. “I swear, she would have made a great investigator if working wasn’t too low-brow for her. I’ve changed my number several times. I don’t know how she always finds me.”
I remember the person Chloe thought she saw in the garden. “Maybe she hired an investigator to keep tabs on you?”
Chloe blanches. “Oh my gosh, that’s something she would do.”
She stares at the drawer in horror, her breaths coming faster. Knowing an oncoming panic attack when I see one, I leap to divert it.
“Would you like to go for a walk in the garden?” I gesture to the window above her desk. “We could get some fresh air and stretch our legs a bit.”
Chloe’s head jerks up, surprised by the sudden change in topic. Then a small, grateful smile tugs at her lips. “That sounds nice. I could use a break from all this.”
She gestures at her computer, weariness in the motion, and my heart aches. I resist the urge to pull her into my arms, to hold her close and promise that everything will be okay. We’re not to that point yet, but hopefully soon.
Instead, I wait for her to put on shoes, then hold the door open for her as we step out into the hallway. The scent of her fills my nostrils, feeds an ache in my body, and unfurls longing for the completion of my pack. My fingers flex with the desire to dig out a new plot in the garden and plant a lilac tree.
We walk downstairs in silence, our footsteps echoing on the hardwood floors. The heat of her body radiates next to mine, and electricity crackles between us with every accidental brush of our arms. It’s maddening, this attraction, this pull that draws me to her like a moth to a flame.
But I know I can’t act on it, no matter how much my body screams for her touch. So I content myself with being near her, with drinking in the sight of her as we step out into the sunlit garden.
“It’s so beautiful here.” She draws in a deep breath and releases it with a soft sigh. “Like something out of a fairy tale.”
“It’s one of my favorite places,” I admit softly, not wanting to disrupt the intimacy of the quiet space. “Somewhere I can go to clear my head and find a bit of peace.”
Admiration lights Chloe’s face. “Kyle mentioned that you created this space?”
“It’s a hobby of sorts. I find it grounding to dig my hands into the soil, nurturing living things and watching them grow.” I shrug, trying to downplay the compliment, but I can’t quite hide the pride I feel in the space. “It’s a way to create something tangible, something real.”
“I wish I had something like that,” she confesses. “Something to hold on to, to make me feel… I don’t know. Less broken, I guess.”
“What are you talking about?” My finger touches her chin, tipping her face up to mine. “You create entire worlds in prose. That’s far more difficult than gardening.”
“I don’t know if I’d go that far. Words are just a place for the imagination to live.” Chloe takes a deep breath as she tilts her face up to the sky. “This garden is for the soul.”
My breath catches at the way the sun illuminates her delicate features, and the breeze plays with her hair. I can’t wait until the garden blooms in full, can’t wait for afternoons of sitting out here together.
I clear my throat, not wanting to startle her out of the peaceful moment. “It’s a beautiful day.”
“It is.” Chloe looks up at me. “Thank you for suggesting a walk. I needed to get away for a bit.”
I shove my hands into the pockets of my khakis. “Do you want to talk about it?”
She sighs, reaching up to fiddle with her collar. “My mom’s been leaving non-stop messages about me canceling the courtship with Louie and demanding that I go back and beg his forgiveness. She’s scared that he’s going to freeze her credit cards and demand she pay her debt in full.”
Her hand lifts to her throat. “I’ve been paying her way for so long because she held Louie over my head like this constant boogeyman. Now that I’m free, I want nothing to do with either of them, but she’s still my mom . I hate how weak, how guilty I feel for choosing to put myself ahead of her greed.”
A surge of anger rises at her words, at the thought of anyone guilting Chloe for escaping a toxic situation. At the same time, I understand where she’s coming from.
I take a step closer and duck my head to see her expression. “You did the right thing. You’re brave for escaping. Don’t let anyone make you doubt that.”
Tears shimmer in her eyes, and she whines low in her throat, swaying toward me. I can deny myself, but I can’t deny my Omega when she’s in need.
With a rumble, I pull her into my arms, her body fitting mine like we were designed for each other. Sighing, she snuggles in, her soft sniffles and tiny nuzzles drawing a purr from me.
I cup the back of her head, massaging her tense muscles. “Your mom is an adult who made her own choices. She abused her role to force choices on you, too. It’s hard now to cut the tie, but toxic people poison everyone they come into contact with. This is what you need for your mental and physical health.”
“Thank you.” She rubs her cheek over my chest before stepping back, and I’m forced to let her go. “I appreciate you saying that.”
I wipe the trace of a tear from her cheek. “Do you want to go back inside?”
She swipes the sleeve of my jacket over her face. “I think I’d like to keep walking for a bit, if that’s okay? The fresh air feels nice.”
“Of course.” I gesture for her to lead the way. “We can walk for as long as you’d like.”
As we continue along the garden path, I study Chloe out of the corner of my eye. She seems lighter somehow, as if a weight has been lifted from her shoulders. While she still has a long way to go in her healing journey, a fierce sense of pride rises at her strength and resilience.
Because Chloe is a survivor, an Omega who refuses to be broken by the cruelty of the world. With bone-deep certainty, I know that I’ll do whatever it takes to help her find her way back to herself again.
“You’re good at comforting.” Her face lifts toward mine with curiosity. “Are you close to your family?”
A surprised laugh escapes me. “It’s complicated.” Our shoes tap on the stone path as we walk deeper into the sprawling gardens. “How much has Blake told you about our pack?”
She shakes her head. “Not much. I’ve wanted to ask, but it’s not my place to pry.”
“You should know, if we’re to court.” I shove my hands into my pockets. “It could affect whether you want to stay here.”
She lifts her chin. “I want to stay.”
“Just listen first,” I chide. “You know Dominic’s familial pack. Do you know anything about the Burton pack?”
Her eyes widen. “ The Burton pack?”
“Yep.” My gaze sweeps out over the garden. “My father is the lead of the developmental division, so I grew up with certain expectations for my future pressuring me. My dad believed in tough love and learning from the ground up, but he undermined me at every turn, passing me over for promotions in favor of less experienced employees.”
I kick a stone off the path, and it bounces into the soft dirt of the flowerbed. “I tried to tell myself he was just harder on me because I was still in school, or that he had higher expectations of me because I was his son. But then he started stealing the projects I brought in and pocketing all the income, and I realized he was holding me down because he was never going to retire and hand over the company. When I confronted him, he told me I would never be promoted into management, despite landing million-dollar contracts before I finished my sophomore year of college.”
She touches my tense arm. “I’m so sorry. That must have been hard to hear.”
I cover her hand with mine, then link our fingers together. “It was actually a relief. I didn’t like the environment my father fostered in the company, but I was holding on, thinking I’d change things once I took over. Knowing that would never happen gave me the freedom to leave the Burton pack.”
She squeezes my hand. “That was brave of you.”
“Well, not very brave. If Blake hadn’t agreed to go with me, I’d still be there.” I stroke my thumb over her knuckles. “Blake and I grew up together. His father is the head of the construction company my father employed. When he broke away from his family pack, his dad cut him off financially. My father wasn’t so harsh. He thought we’d fail right away and come crawling back.”
I stop in front of the Persian buttercup and touch one heavy bloom. “He was less amused when my mother passed, and I inherited Misty Pines instead of him. He tried to fight the will, but the property belonged to my maternal grandfather, and the land stayed with the bloodline. When that didn’t work, he tried to buy it from me. I refused. By then, Dominic had done some market research, and we were planning the resort to stabilize our pack and create a home.”
“I’m glad you refused.” Chloe bends to inhale the citrusy rose scent. “The island is so beautiful, and it’s a wonderful heritage for your pack.”
“Thank you.” I grimace. “But the banks wouldn’t finance the project without the backing of my familial pack. Our plan seemed dead in the water, and we were at risk of losing our investors when my father made an offer we couldn’t refuse.”
“Oh, no.” Dismay creases Chloe’s brow. “That’s never good in storybooks.”
“Not in real life, either.” I draw her around to face me. “This is where it affects you. The loan came with a lot of stipulations, but the biggest one is that if we don’t launch this summer, Blake and I have to return to our familial packs.”
Her lips form an O of shock.
“We’re on target for completion, even with the storm damage,” I rush to reassure her. “The launch is only the Homestead and the cabins by the docks. There’s no reason we won’t launch on time.”
“It’s still a risk, though.” She searches my face. “Does this mean you want to hold off on courting me? Is that why Blake hasn’t gone to register?”
I cup her arms. “I do want to court you.”
The admission rips open the flood of want inside me, and I drop my hands before I do something we’ll both regret.
“But you’re worried when the future isn’t guaranteed.” She purses her lips as she takes in the garden and the back of the Homestead. “It doesn’t appear to me like Nathaniel Burton is a man afraid of risks.”
No, not usually. But this will be the first time I’ve risked my heart.