Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Nathaniel
I adjust the angle of the security camera mounted under the eaves, ensuring it has a clear view of the Homestead’s garden.
The intruder’s footprint had vanished after a downpour two days ago, but not before we followed the trail as far as the grass, where the trail vanished.
We hadn’t found evidence around the Phase Two work site, either, to show that the intruder had made it that far. Once again, we’re at a loss. In all the time I spent on this island growing up, I never learned to track or hunt.
We’re millionaires playing detective and failing.
With the camera fixed, I pick up the fresh bouquet I collected and head inside. Chloe has been tense since the encounter with Louie and now this new development. I worry it will hinder her recovery and put stress on her body.
Upstairs, I stop in front of her room and bend to leave the fresh flowers in front of her door to find when she wakes up.
As I straighten, though, the door opens. “Nathaniel?”
I jerk upright, cheeks flushing hot as I meet Chloe’s startled pink eyes. “I, uh…”
Her gaze drops to the flowers clutched in my fist. “Are those for me?”
Fighting the urge to hide them behind my back, I thrust the bouquet forward. “Thought the ones in your room might be wilted by now.”
Chloe’s face transforms with a radiant smile. She takes the flowers and presses them to her button nose, inhaling their sweet fragrance. “They’re lovely. Thank you.”
I stuff my hands in my pockets, my pulse quickening as she bends to retrieve a stray petal. The soft curves of her body beckon, and I flex my fingers, aching to caress her delicate skin and bury myself in her lilac essence.
“Glad you like them.” I clear my throat. “I can take the others away for you, if you’d like.”
Chloe straightens, cradling the bouquet as she tilts her head toward the open doorway, pink hair tumbling over her shoulder. “Sure, come on in.”
The click of the latch echoes in the stillness as I follow her inside, enveloped by her intoxicating scent. It’s stronger now than the last time I visited, sending my head spinning.
Chloe sets the fresh flowers on her desk and picks up the vase holding the older blossoms, now tinged with brown. “I was worried I killed these because I kept the curtains closed too much.” Her brow furrows as she touches a withered stem. “Guess I’m not great with plants.”
I reach out, fingers brushing hers as I lift the vase, and electricity zings through me at the contact. “Cut flowers will always wilt. But they bring happiness while they last.”
Chloe’s expression turns wistful. “You work so hard on the garden. Do you get sad seeing them die?”
I take the old bouquet out and set it in the little trashcan under her desk as I consider my response. “It’s the nature of flowers to bloom intensely but briefly. The plants need to be pruned to thrive.”
I study her face, yearning to smooth away the furrow between her brows. “A walk might do you good. Get you out of this room for a bit.”
Chloe bites her glossy lip, eyes flitting to the curtain-covered window before returning to mine. “That… sounds nice, actually.”
My heart stutters as she steps closer, her floral essence wrapping around me. I inhale, fighting the urge to bury my nose in the crook of her neck.
Chloe’s hand lands on my forearm, light as a feather. “Just let me put on my shoes.”
I struggle to gather my wits. “I’ll…uh…use the bathroom to replace the water in the vase.”
Her eyes twinkle as she slips past me, and I head into the en suite, cleaning the vase by muscle memory and refilling it before returning to the desk and setting the new bouquet inside.
As I pull the trash bag from the bin, Chloe bounces to her feet. She had also pulled her hair up into a loose bun on top of her head, and it bounces, too, charming me. “Ready to go?”
Not trusting myself to speak, I gesture for her to lead the way out of the bedroom.
We descend the stairs, the rich aroma of coffee and sizzling bacon drifting from the kitchen. My stomach rumbles, reminding me that I woke up earlier than usual to check the security cameras, and Holden is still cooking breakfast.
“Let me drop this off real fast.” I hold up the trash back. “Be right back.”
In the kitchen, Holden gives me a startled look over his shoulder. “Breakfast won’t be ready for another twenty minutes.”
“No problem.” I drop the smaller trash bag into the larger bin under the sink. “Chloe and I are going to take a stroll through the garden.”
A slow smile spreads over Holden’s lips. “Oh?”
“Shush,” I say gruffly.
About to head back out, I recall the thin T-shirt Chloe is wearing and the chill in the early spring air. I duck into the mudroom and grab one of my quilted jackets from a hook. The brown one with leather elbow patches. It will swallow her small frame, but at least she’ll be warm.
Holden grins as I stride back out of the kitchen. “Have fun!”
Returning to Chloe, I hold out the coat, feeling a bit presumptuous. “Here. It’s, uh, a bit nippy out.”
Her eyes widen before her nose twitches. “Such a gentleman.” She turns around. “Help me put it on?”
Pulse jumping, I gingerly drape the jacket over her shoulders, my fingers grazing her nape, and goose bumps rise on her creamy skin. Chloe slips her arms into the too-long sleeves, and I catch her turning her head to sniff the collar.
A satisfied rumble rises in my chest.
Chloe faces me, cheeks flushed. “Shall we?”
I lead us out the back door into the garden, drinking in the trimmed hedges and pops of early spring flowers that scent the air. But nothing compares to the beauty of Chloe traipsing ahead of me, pink bun bouncing.
She peeks over her shoulder and pauses, waiting for me to catch up.
As we meander along the cobblestone path, I search for a way to break the silence. “So, how’s the writing going? Are you making any progress on the new book?”
Chloe’s face brightens, her posture straightening with excitement. “Actually, yeah. I’ve been outlining nonstop, and Quinn’s given me so much inspiration.”
“Oh, yeah?” I raise an eyebrow. “How so?”
She hesitates, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth, and I resist the urge to reach out and smooth the indent with my thumb.
“Well, to be honest, part of the reason I wanted to end the series before was because…” She trails off and hugs my jacket closer. “I didn’t think I could write a happy family. Not authentically, anyway.”
My chest tightens at the vulnerability behind her words, and I want to wrap her in my arms, to shield her from her past.
Instead, I keep my voice neutral. “And now?”
Chloe’s eyes shimmer when they meet mine. “Being here, with all of you, has shown me what a real family is like. The laughter, the teasing, the way you all look out for each other…”
She shakes her head, that wistful expression returning to her face. “I never had that growing up. But now, maybe I can do my characters justice.”
“What was it like?” I venture. “Growing up in the Sinclair pack, I mean.”
Chloe stiffens, her scent souring with distress.
Shit. I overstepped.
I’m about to backpedal when she releases a shuddering sigh. “I thought I had it bad back then. My mom was the drunk everyone gossiped about, but never to her face. Not with my dad as the head Alpha of the Sinclair pack.”
I let out a sympathetic sound, wanting to reach for her but unsure if my touch would be welcome.
“Sometimes, she’d put in an effort. She’d bring me a new book, and I’d think, ‘This is it. Things will be different now.’” A bitter laugh escapes her. “But it never lasted. I’d find her passed out on the couch, reeking of booze, and I’d know nothing had changed.”
Fury rises within me. I’ve heard the same lament from Blake so many times and seen the effect it had on him firsthand. Then watched the pattern play out again with Quinn as Sadie fell into the same addiction. I will never understand how a mother can neglect her own pup.
My fists clench, but I force myself to relax. “I’m sorry. You deserved so much better.”
Tears cling to Chloe’s lashes, and my heart stutters. “Thank you for listening. For understanding.”
I clear my throat to dispel the thickness. “What about your dad? Were you at least close with him?”
A rueful smile plays at the corners of her mouth. “Not really. He was always distant, caught up in pack business. But I never questioned his love, you know? I knew he had a lot on his shoulders.”
She pauses, fiddling with the zipper on my jacket, the metal clicking. “We had dinner together at least once a month, though. Just the two of us.”
“Ah, the obligatory child interview,” I say with a knowing chuckle.
“Exactly!” Chloe spins toward me. “Oh, man, those were always so awkward.”
At the sweet sound of her laughter, something warm unfurls in my chest. I want to hear it again and again.
She nudges my arm. “What about you? What was life like growing up in the Burton pack?”
I tense as old resentments rise. “Full of pressure. My entire life was planned out for me from birth. Every decision, every move, scrutinized and controlled.”
Agitated, I rake a hand through my blond hair. “It was suffocating, and the older I got, the more I realized I could never raise my own pups in that environment.”
Chloe’s scent shifts, soft and soothing, her compassion calming me the same way my bondmates would. “That must have been hard. I’m sorry your pack didn’t take your own desires into consideration.”
Her sympathy settles over me like a balm, gentling my jagged edges. I take a deep breath, letting her sweetness fill my lungs.
“What about your mom?” Chloe asks. “Were you close with her?”
“Yeah. She was a bright spot for me, her and my grandad.” Memories rush in, golden and treasured. “Every summer, we’d come here to this island. Grandad taught me how to build a fire and how to fish, the importance of loving and respecting the land.”
Wonder softens Chloe’s face. “Sounds nice.”
“It was,” I agree, the old joy of those summers washing through me. “I looked forward to it all year. Even after Grandad passed, Mom and I still came.”
Grief tightens my throat. “And then…she died. It was a brain aneurysm. In an instant, she was gone and the island was mine.”
Chloe makes a soft, pained sound. She lays her small hand on my forearm, and the touch sears me even through layers of fabric. “I’m sorry that you lost her so suddenly. I can’t imagine how much that hurt.”
I cover her hand with mine, her skin so soft and warm. “Thank you. Some days, I still can’t believe she’s gone.”
We stand for a long moment, the whole world narrowing to the feather-light weight of Chloe’s hand on my arm, the mingled scent of leather and lilies, and the aching tenderness in her expression.
When Chloe withdraws her touch, the loss of contact causes a physical ache. “So…your father wasn’t thrilled you inherited the island?”
I shake my head. “He expected Grandad to name him as heir. He wanted control of the property, but Mom had other ideas.”
Her delicate brow furrows in confusion. “Were they not bonded mates?”
“No.” I tear my eyes away from her face. “Mom was Marked, but they never scent matched. He contracted her for exclusivity until she birthed me, after which she was free to roam the pack.”
“Ah,” Chloe says. “Was that difficult for you?”
“It was complicated. They didn’t like each other, but my dad kept tabs on her for…” I gesture at the garden. “Mom was always her own person. She loved me, but she didn’t want another child.”
Chloe nods, her bun bobbing. “My mother was the same way. My father wanted a male heir, so he kept extending the contract, but Mom never produced another child. Neither did the other Omegas who came through our house.”
I blink in surprise at Chloe’s revelation. “Your mother didn’t care about the other Omegas?”
She shakes her head. “So long as she remained his only mate, no. She had what she wanted.”
We walk in silence for a moment, the only sound the tap of our shoes on the stone pathway.
Chloe’s steps slow, and her wide, uncertain eyes lift to mine. “What’s the plan for your pack?”
“We haven’t discussed it much,” I admit, my fingers twisting the silver ring on my right hand. “Expanding the pack was supposed to be a future plan, after we established a stable income and could prove we were capable of providing for an Omega and future pups. But…” I trail off, searching for the right words.
“But?” Chloe prompts, her expression hopeful.
“But we’re all in agreement about wanting a true pack.” My words tumble over each other in a rush. “Not like our parents. We all want what Holden’s familial pack has. Scent matched and bonded.”
“I understand.” Her teeth worry at her bottom lip. “Do you think you’ll bond with me?”
My heart stutters at the vulnerability in her eyes, the longing in her scent.
“Chloe, I…” I take a deep breath to steady myself. “I want to. More than anything. But how can we ask that of you when our future isn’t guaranteed? If all of this falls through, if Blake and I are forced to return to our familial packs, it would hurt you.”
Chloe’s hand settles on my chest. “You’ve bonded with the other Alphas, though. It’s already too late to go back.”
She’s right, of course. The bond I share with Blake and the others is unbreakable, a tether tying us together even when we’re apart. Such a bond hasn’t formed yet with Chloe, though. There’s still a chance to spare her future pain.
“I know,” I say roughly. “But Chloe, a true bond… It can’t be dissolved outside of death. If we do this, if we take this step, there’s no going back.”
Chloe shifts closer, her scent enveloping me like a warm embrace. “I know the risk, but I want this. I want you.”
Her words shatter the last of my resolve. A rumble vibrates in my chest as I pull her to me, my hands sliding over the curve of her hips. Chloe’s breath hitches, her fingers curling into the fabric of my shirt.
“Chloe.” I nuzzle into the soft skin of her neck, letting my instincts take control for once. “If we do this, I won’t be able to let you go.”
“Then don’t.” She tilts her head to bare her throat in a gesture of submission, and my inner Alpha howls with satisfaction. “I want to court, I want to bond, I want this pack.”
Something snaps inside me at her words. With a fierce growl, my mouth covers hers, and I pour all of my longing and desire into the kiss. Chloe melts in my arms, her body molding to mine as if we were made for each other.
I lose myself in the taste of her, in the silky glide of her tongue. My hands roam over her curves, mapping the contours of her body through the thin fabric of her T-shirt beneath my jacket.
Chloe whimpers, arching into my touch like a flower seeking the sun.
The rest of the world fades away until only the scent of her skin, the warmth of her body, the soft sounds of pleasure that spill from her lips exist. Nothing else matters. Not the uncertain future ahead of us, not the risks that come from giving in to our desires.
Only Chloe matters, and the bond that hums between us, reaching, yearning to connect. I deepen the kiss, my hands moving to her hips. I want to lay her down in the grass, want to taste the flowers on her skin, to worship the petal softness of my mate.
The shrill ring of my cell phone shatters the heated moment.
I try to ignore it at first, losing myself once more in the strawberry sweetness of Chloe’s kiss. But the insistent buzzing continues, drilling into my awareness like a jackhammer.
With a growl of frustration, I break away, fumbling in my pocket for the offending device.
Chloe watches me through heavy-lidded eyes, her lips swollen and glistening, her chest rising and falling with rapid pants. The sight of her, disheveled and wanting, sends a fresh surge of desire crackling through my veins.
Ready to toss the phone aside, I look at the screen, thumb over the decline button before I freeze, unease dimming my desire. Emily’s name flashes on the display. She wouldn’t call me at this time of day unless it was important.
I press the phone to my ear, my other hand still resting on the curve of Chloe’s hip. “What is it?”
“We’ve got a problem, Nat,” Emily says, her normally unflappable tone holding an edge of tension. “There’s an inspector waiting at the docks, demanding to be walked through the job site. He’s threatening to shut us down if we don’t comply.”
Ice floods my veins, chasing away the last heat of arousal.
An inspector, here? Now?
My mind races, trying to piece together what could have brought this on. We’ve been meticulous about following every regulation, dotting every i and crossing every t. There’s no reason for an inspection, unless…
Unless someone tipped them off. Someone who wants to see us fail.
“I’ll meet him at the work site,” I bite out, already moving toward the garden door, Chloe trailing behind me with a worried frown. “I’m on my way down now.”
As I end the call and shove the phone back into my pocket, I meet her questioning eyes. “I have to go. An inspector is coming to the job site, threatening to shut us down.”
Alarm flashes across her face. “What? Why?”
“I don’t know,” I admit, though I have my suspicions it has to do with a certain casino owner. “But I intend to find out.”
I pause at the doorway, turning back to face her. She appears small, wrapped in my jacket, her bun sitting sideways on her head from my fingers.
A fierce protectiveness surges through me, mingling with the simmering embers of desire. I cup her face in my hands, pressing a hard, swift kiss to her lips.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” My breath mingles with hers. “Wait for me.”
Not giving her a chance to respond, I leave her at the Homestead, shoving my instincts back down. Right now, I need a level head, which means keeping my mind focused on work and not the tempting Omega I leave behind.