26. Quinn
Chapter 26
Quinn
“A re you alive?” Linc asks when I answer his call. “You fly across the country, moving away from your dearest brother, and can’t even text me to tell me you got there safe?”
“Funny how you’re my only brother.”
He gives me an overly dramatic sigh. “You know I’d still be your favorite.”
“Right,” I goad him. Putting him on speaker, I set the phone down so I can stuff the next load of Rosie’s quilts into the wash. “I would have, but the guys were waiting as soon as I landed. Then, our new neighbor had an emergency. It’s the strangest coincidence…”
My words trail off as I slam the lid and turn on the wash. Since Rosie agreed to stay with us, I’ve been an omega-nesting gremlin of chaos on a mission to make her comfortable.
“A coincidence how?”
“She knows them from high school…”
I pull a soft emerald blanket from the basket and bring it to my nose. Nothing of her scent remains, but it doesn’t matter. Dark tea with spices tickles my tongue, and my head rushes with the lingering scent of dew dripping from roses.
“Did you just moan?” Linc laughs, completely amused by my little slipup. I didn’t even realize I did it.
“Tell your alphas to chill. They can have you back again after this call.”
“It’s not my alphas,” I admit with a confused sigh. “The neighbor, Rosie, she’s a scent match.”
My brother chokes into the phone, spluttering. “Come again?”
“She’s their scent match.” I leave out the part where she’s mine too. If the way I’m reacting to her is any indication, she’s my mate, but the reality of that feels too big to name.
“Ugh. I bet that’s tugging at a soft spot. Is she nice to you? Because last time, that bitch?—”
“Easy there, tiger. She’s no threat.” I chuckle, cutting off his rant. He can be too protective, just like both my alphas. “Honestly, I’m nervous and a little excited.”
“Better you than me.” Linc has never hidden the fact that he has no desire to share.
“Damn right.” I jab back before giving him the basic rundown of the situation and listening to his overprotective advice before hanging up.
I’ve had moments when I was worried about bringing a new partner into the pack, even though I was more than open to it, but my brother doesn’t need to worry. This isn’t like that. My only hesitation regarding Rosie is that I'm already in love with a woman I’ve never met. Will she understand that? The thought of giving up Raven...
The news about Rosie has shaken me and left me trying to understand where all the pieces fit. But what I said to my brother is true—I’m excited by the possibility of what moving here might bring. Maybe for the first time, this move feels like it could be right for all of us.
At breakfast, I couldn’t look away from the sight Rosie made with my alphas. She was pinned between them, filled with doe-eyed innocence as her pink lips parted. Rosie is mesmerizing. And the way my alphas were drawn to her, their scents thick with arousal, charging the air with electricity, made my nerves sizzle and crackle with an ache to join them.
Only it isn’t just lust. Last night, when I got into town, Nash was desperate and despairing. Sometimes, Dane can grab hold of Nash’s alpha and keep his anger or his darkness in check, but my purr is often the only thing that soothes his frayed edges when he gets like he was last night. My purr—and, now, Rosie.
For a brief moment last night, there was a storm of emotions in our bonds so intense it woke me from sleep, the back-and-forth waves jarring. Rosie’s influence in the bond transformed that thrashing storm into a sunshine-soaked sea.
I can’t explain it other than that I felt her in the bond, and it settled me, making the possibility of her presence less unnerving. Scenting her this morning, I can understand why. Rosie is intoxicating. She smells floral, and lush, like the sweet and spicy aroma of a steaming cup of tea. Her scent reminds me of making out under the covers, lazy rainy weekends, and the sweet softness of submission.
I fold the blanket and move on to the next in the stack, grinning when I find one of Rosie’s T-shirts balled up and clinging with static to a quilt.
The butter-soft grey T-shirt has the logo of a grunge band that I love. Taking a whiff is pointless. Her scent isn’t in the fabric. That doesn’t stop me from hiding the shirt on the top shelf in the laundry room so I can come back for it later.
With the first round of sheets and blankets ready, I make my way toward the guest room, giving in to the urge to nest.