Chapter 29 #3
Julia’s eyes snapped open. She went so still in my arms, she actually stopped breathing. My woman was fluent in sass and sarcasm, using humor to deflect any real emotional intimacy, and I braced myself for her to make a joke to diffuse the weight of my confession.
Except… she didn’t. She looked up at me, searching my face, reading the certainty in the depth of my eyes. I saw the moment the walls she kept around her heart crumbled. She framed my jaw with both hands and pulled me down for the sweetest damn kiss of my life.
Shifting us, I reached down with my right hand, pulling open the top drawer of the island.
I bypassed the wooden spoons and the measuring cups, my fingers finding the small velvet pouch tucked all the way in the back. I pulled it out, emptied it onto the counter, and picked up the delicate silver chain.
Julia pulled back, her brow furrowing in confusion as I lifted her right wrist.
I draped the chain over her skin, my fingers working the tiny clasp one-handed until I caught the other end and clicked it shut. A pendant rested directly over her pulse point—a tiny wildflower encased in resin.
Julia stared down at it. Her breath hitched as she looked from the bracelet up to me, the realization dawning on her.
“I saw you looking at it at the farmer’s market,” I explained quietly, running my thumb over the charm. “You only wanted it for fifteen seconds before you put it back down. I’ve been keeping it in that drawer ever since. A wildflower for my Wildflower.”
Tears welled up in her eyes. “I love you too, August.”
Wrapping her arms securely around my neck, she buried her face in the crook of my shoulder. I held her, positive that right here in my kitchen was exactly where we were both supposed to be.
By the time we finally managed to bake and eat the lasagna, the rest of the guys had trudged up to the house, exhausted and covered in dust.
Now, hours later, it was dark outside. I was sitting on the edge of the humongous bed in the Omega suite, dressed only in sweatpants.
Ransom was sprawled on his stomach across the foot of the mattress wearing only his boxers, already half asleep, while River sat against the headboard, scrolling through his phone.
Stetson stood by the window, staring out at the dark property.
Gideon was in the corner armchair, a book resting open on his knee.
Earlier in the hallway, Julia had stopped us all before we could head to our separate rooms.
“I want you to stay in here tonight,” she’d said, looking up at us nervously—as if we’d ever refuse her.
She’d tried to play it off with a teasing smile.
“It’s not like the bed isn’t big enough.
” But I had heard the tender vulnerability underneath the joke.
Her Omega was craving the closeness of her mates.
She wanted our scents in the sheets and the physical weight of our bodies surrounding her.
The guys had practically tripped over themselves to accept.
The bathroom door clicked open, and Julia walked out, rubbing a towel through her damp hair.
Goddamn. It never ceased to amaze me how beautiful she was.
She dropped the towel onto a chair and climbed onto the mattress with one of her rare shy smiles. She crawled directly over Ransom’s legs, ignoring his sleepy grumble, and settled right into the center of the bed.
When she looked up and found me still perched on the edge, she held out both arms.
“Get in here, Auggie.”
The nickname hit me like a shot to the chest. Nobody had ever called me that before, and my little Omega had just tossed it out like it was nothing, as though she hadn’t just stripped away every version of me the world had ever known and replaced them all with something only she would ever use.
Her arms were still outstretched, her brown eyes soft and sleepy, and I knew then that she was completely unaware that she’d just made me fall even more in love with her.
I climbed into the bed beside her without a word, because if I opened my mouth right now, something embarrassing was going to come out of it.
I looked down at her. She was surrounded by the men who had claimed her, curled up in a nest built of our things.
Ransom’s sweatpants, the ones he’d kicked off before crawling into bed that she’d immediately confiscated, were woven amongst some of the throw blankets.
My hoodie, the massive grey one she’d borrowed two nights ago that hung almost to her knees, was draped over her pillow.
Gideon’s shirt was tucked along the left side of the nest with River’s on the right.
Stetson’s shirt was peeking out from beneath the pillows where he’d placed it himself after their night together.
The nest was deliberate now, a physical manifestation of the family we were building around her.
And it was almost complete.
I stared at the closed bedroom door, the muscle in my jaw jumping with familiar frustration. Because as right as it felt to have my family in this room… there was still one piece missing.
And he was standing in his own damn way.