Chapter 14 Tyler
TYLER
Ishould be focusing on the damn light fixture.
Instead, all I can think about is her.
I’m perched on top of the ladder in the dining room, wrench in hand, pretending like I actually give a shit about the rusted bolts and ancient wiring. But my mind? It’s not here.
It’s upstairs in her room. Her scent lingers in the air of the house, wrapping around me no matter how much I try to shake it off. It’s everywhere—warm vanilla with that wild, untamed something that drives me to distraction.
She’s got me twisted in knots, and the worst part? I like it.
Every second she’s near, I feel like I’m teetering on the edge of something dangerous, something inevitable. She’s not just some passing fascination. She’s ours—whether she realizes it yet or not.
I know Brodie feels it. Hell, even Ethan, in all his broodiness, feels it. She fits between us like she was made to be there, and my Alpha won’t fucking rest until she is.
I exhale sharply, gripping the wrench so tight my knuckles go white. I need to get my head on straight. Focus. But then I hear her laugh.
It’s soft, unguarded, and way too fucking rare.
It spills through the hallway, curling around me like a goddamn siren call. My entire body tenses. I glance toward the doorway just in time to catch a glimpse of her—gesturing wildly with a piece of fabric in her hands, talking a mile a minute.
Brodie sits on the arm of the sofa, watching her, occasionally pulling her in for a kiss, like they are the only people in the world.
And then—she stumbles, tripping over the carpet.
My heart slams against my ribs, and before I can even think, Brodie’s already there, catching her effortlessly like he knew she was going to fall before she did.
His hands settle on her waist, steadying her, and she tilts her head back, laughing in that soft, breathless way that sends heat straight to my cock.
Her scent spikes—something sweet, something wanting—and I swear to fucking God, I feel it in my teeth.
A growl rumbles low in my chest before I can stop it.
Brodie doesn’t even look my way, but I know he feels it.
I tear my gaze away, forcing myself to focus on the light fixture, on the wrench, on anything that isn’t the way Sophie’s fingers linger on Brodie’s forearm as she rights herself. I clench my jaw so hard it aches.
This isn’t jealousy. It’s deeper than that, darker. It’s the pull of the pack, of the bond forming whether we have acknowledged it or not.
And Sophie?
She has no fucking clue what she’s doing to us.
She moves through this house, through our lives, lighting fires she doesn’t even realize she’s started. And every day, every second, I get closer to losing whatever grip I have left on my self-control.
Because I know, deep down in my bones—she’s not just an Omega in need of an Alpha.
She’s our Omega.
And it’s only a matter of time before she figures it out, too.
The sound of Sophie’s footsteps retreating upstairs pulls me out of my thoughts.
I climb down the ladder, brushing dust off my hands.
Then the door bangs open, and Sophie bursts into the room like a hurricane.
She’s clutching a piece of paper in her hand, her face pale but her eyes blazing with anger.
“Look at this,” she snaps, holding the letter out. “Can you believe this?”
Brodie steps into the room behind her, his expression instantly sharpening as he takes in her tone. “What’s going on?” he asks, his voice calm, measured.
Sophie waves the letter in the air like it’s personally offended her. “The county sent this,” she says, her voice tight. “They’re threatening to condemn the inn if we don’t address these ‘structural and safety issues’ immediately.”
I take the letter from her, scanning the contents. My stomach sinks as I read the list of violations, each one more daunting than the last.
The timeline for the repairs is laughably short, and the resources we’d need? We’re nowhere close to having them.
“They can’t be serious,” I mutter, looking up at her. But the fire in her eyes tells me they are, and they’ve managed to hit her exactly where it hurts.
“Half this stuff is just ridiculous,” I say firmly, stepping closer to her. I can smell the bitter tinge to her scent. “We’ve got this Soph.”
Her hands tremble slightly as she crosses her arms, gripping the letter like it’s the only thing keeping her steady.
“It’s just one thing after another,” she says, her voice cracking. “Every time I think we’re making progress, something else falls apart.”
“You can't give up. We're not giving up,” Brodie says, his tone leaving no room for argument. “It’s not happening.” He pulls her into his arms.
His certainty is grounding, but the deadline looms large in my mind. “All right,” I say, running a hand through my hair. “We need a plan. Brodie, you good to assess the structural stuff? I’ll tackle the safety violations. We’ll break this down into pieces and hit the most urgent ones first.”
“It's weird, though. Why now? Your Aunt ran this place for years without anybody sniffing around. Someone must have complained, but who?”
Sophie looks between us, her shoulders relaxing just a fraction. But then her gaze sharpens, and her lips press into a thin line. “It’s Ethan,” she says suddenly. “It has to be. He’s the only one who’d do something like this. He always says he’s trying to protect me, but this? This is too far.”
The accusation hangs in the air, heavy and unresolved. I glance at Brodie, who’s already frowning. “I don’t really think Ethan would do this, do you…” He says, his voice careful, neutral.
“I don’t know,” Sophie admits, her frustration bleeding into her tone. “But he’s been so…difficult. He doesn’t want me to have the inn. He doesn’t think I can handle this.”
“That doesn’t mean he’d sabotage you,” I say slowly, unsure whose side I’m on. Ethan’s protective streak runs deep, but this? It doesn’t feel like him. Then again, I don’t know what’s been running through his head lately.
Brodie sighs, his gaze steady on Sophie. “We’ll figure out the truth later. Right now, let’s focus on what we can control. The rest can wait.”
Sophie’s expression hardens into resolve, ignoring Brodie. “I need to talk to Ethan,” she says abruptly, turning toward the door.
I watch her go, a knot of concern tightening in my chest. I know that look—determined, fiery, and maybe just a little reckless. She’s not going to let this go.
“She’s not going to be nice to him,” I mutter as the door slams shut behind her.
Brodie chuckles softly. “Would you expect anything less?”
“No,” I admit. “And that’s what worries me. Without Ethan, there’s no pack, and without a pack…”
“There’s no Omega,” he says softly, his brow lowering.
I stand there for a moment, staring at the door Sophie just stormed through, her fiery determination still crackling in the air. Brodie leans against the edge of the dining table, his arms crossed as he watches me with a knowing look.
“You worry too much, Hawk. Ethan could use a good dressing down from her. Dont you think?” he asks, his tone somewhere between amused and concerned.
“He might,” I mutter, scrubbing a hand over my face. “Or he might say something to piss her off even more, and then we’ll have a whole other pile of shit on our hands.”
Brodie leans against the counter, arms crossed, his amber eyes steady on me. “She’s opinionated for sure, but Ethan can handle it.”
I huff out a laugh, shaking my head. “Handle it? Handle her?” My gaze flicks toward the doorway Sophie disappeared through. “That fire’s going to burn us all up if we aren’t careful.”
Brodie’s smirk is slow, knowing. “Yeah. But let’s be real—you wouldn’t mind.”
I don’t reply. Because he’s right, it’s not just her fire—it’s everything. The way she moves, the way her scent lingers in the air, sweet and grounding, wrapping around me even when I try to keep my distance.
It’s the way she fights for this place, like it’s part of her soul. Like we could be part of her soul. She makes me want to be better, stronger—more.
The room feels too quiet without her in it, and the restless energy under my skin won’t settle. I push off the table, pacing. “You think she’s right?” I ask suddenly, glancing at Brodie. “About Ethan?”
Brodie tilts his head, considering. “I don’t know. He’s got his own way of doing things, but sabotage doesn’t feel like his style.”
I drag a hand through my hair, my frustration bubbling over. “Then what the hell is he doing? Half the time, it’s like he doesn’t know what he wants. And now Sophie’s caught in the middle.”
“Maybe he’s just trying to figure it out,” Brodie says. “Same as the rest of us.”
I stop pacing. The rest of us. I stare at him, letting the words sink in.
Brodie’s got a way of cutting through the noise, of saying exactly what needs to be said without dressing it up. It’s one of the reasons I missed him when he left. One of the reasons it feels like something is finally right with him back.
But now he’s here. Sophie’s here. Ethan too.
“You think we can make this work?” I ask, my voice quieter now.
Brodie meets my eyes, his gaze unwavering. “Yeah. But it’s going to take us acting like a pack.”
I nod slowly, the weight of those words settling over me. It’s daunting, sure. But it’s also…right. Sophie is the missing piece, the one who could pull us together in ways we’ve never managed before.
I exhale through my nose. “Let’s just hope their conversation doesn’t end with someone in the hospital!”
Brodie pushes off the counter, his smirk returning. “If anyone can get through to him, it’s her.”
I shake my head, my lips twitching. “Probably right.”
Brodie claps me on the shoulder, then nods toward the kitchen. “Come on. I made coffee.”