Chapter 14 #2
“Is everything okay? Jude mentioned you were dealing with a sick…?”
“Nell,” she sighs, leaning back in her chair. “She’s got the flu that’s been going around the elementary school. Poor thing is miserable. Fever, cough, the works. Simon is home with her now, but… it’s just hard, you know? Hearing her cry and not being able to fix it.”
“She’ll be okay,” I assure her, leaning against the doorframe. “Simon is a doctor. He’s got this.”
“I know. I just hate being away from her when she’s sick.” Wren stands up, stretching her arms over her head, her joints popping. “Anyway. I’m glad you’re here. I was worried about the roses.”
“Me too. That’s why I came by.”
We walk together to the small walk-in cooler located at the back of the shop. It’s an older unit, but it’s reliable. I open the heavy door, and a rush of cold, floral-scented air hits us.
Inside, stacked neatly on the wire shelves, are the buckets of roses and hydrangeas I moved over this morning.
I lift a bucket of white hydrangeas, checking the water level. The blooms look heavy, the petals lush and hydrated. I touch a rose petal; it’s cool and firm, crisp to the touch.
“They look good,” I observe, relief washing over me. “The temperature is holding steady. The cooler at the shop was fluctuating, but this one seems solid.”
“Thank god,” Wren exhales. “If we lost this stock, the clearance sale next week would be a bust. These are premium blooms.”
I set the bucket down and mist the other flowers with a spray bottle I brought in. “The blue hydrangeas are thirsty, but they’re perking up. I think the move actually did them good—got them out of that stagnant air in the broken unit.”
“Small mercies,” Wren says, leaning against the doorframe. “So, tell me. How was the first official shift at the restaurant? Did they feed you? Did Knox glare at you?”
I laugh, closing the cooler door. “They fed me. Eli made sure I had a burger before the rush. And Knox didn’t glare. He mostly just… existed very intensely. It was actually kind of amazing to watch. He’s like a surgeon with a sauté pan.”
“I bet,” Wren smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. She looks at me, her gaze searching. “And how are you? Really? I know everyone is a little on edge with these coming renovations. It’s a lot.”
I lean against the hallway wall, crossing my arms. The question hangs in the air, heavy and expectant. I could give her the standard answer—“I’m fine, just tired.” But Wren isn’t just a boss; she’s a friend. She’s been through the wringer herself.
“I’m… okay,” I say slowly, testing the truth of it.
“Actually, I think I’m more than okay. Today was hard work, but it felt good.
Real. I haven’t felt useful like that in a long time.
And being around Eli… even Fallon and Knox…
it makes me feel safe. Not just physically safe, but mentally safe.
Like I don’t have to constantly look over my shoulder. ”
Wren’s expression softens. “That’s huge, Amber. I’m so glad to hear that.”
“I’m still worried about the money,” I admit, the knot of anxiety tightening slightly in my chest. “The car repair took a chunk out of my savings, and with the shop closing for months… I need this job at the restaurant. I need it to work.”
“It will work,” Wren says firmly. “You’re a hard worker. They’d be crazy not to keep you on. And if they don’t, I’ll find a place for you here. I can always use another pair of hands.”
I smile. “Thanks, Wren. But I think I’m going to stick to the kitchen for now. Less risk of dropping a tray of muffins on a customer.”
“Fair enough.” She glances at the clock on the wall. “You should get home, though. It’s late. Maisie will be wondering where you are.”
“Jude texted. She’s already asleep. He put her to bed about an hour ago.”
“Good. Then go home and get some rest yourself. You look dead on your feet.”
“I feel it,” I agree. “I’ll lock up on my way out.”
“Thank you, Amber. Seriously. For checking on the flowers. For everything.”
“Night, Wren.”
I walk back through the darkened café. The silence is peaceful, but my mind is already racing ahead. I push out the front door, the cold night air biting at my cheeks.
I get into the car and sit there for a moment, resting my forehead on the steering wheel. The adrenaline from the shift is fading fast, leaving me with a bone-deep weariness. But it’s a good tired. It’s the tired of a day well spent.
I think about the paycheck I’ll get from Blade & Butter. It won’t be a fortune, but it will be enough.
Enough to cover the debate fees. Enough to buy Maisie a new pair of boots—her old ones are getting tight. Enough to start rebuilding that emergency fund.
For so long, my life felt like a house of cards, one stiff breeze away from collapsing. Every day was a battle against the fear of Luke, the fear of poverty, the fear of failing Maisie.
But tonight, driving through the quiet streets of Fox Hollow, the house of cards feels a little sturdier. I have a job. I have friends who have my back. I have a man who brings me chocolate croissants and fixes glass steamers.
I start the engine and pull away from the curb.
The house is quiet when I step inside, the only sound the low murmur of the television from the living room. The air smells of cinnamon and yeast—the distinct scent of Lorelai’s cookies—mixed with the pine cleaner Norah favors.
I lock the door behind me, leaning my forehead against the cool wood for just a second to gather my thoughts.
Dorian has been at his mom’s for the last few days. Ryker must have already taken Norah up to bed. She’s been exhausted lately, the pregnancy draining her energy faster than she can replenish it.
That leaves Jude.
I walk into the living room, dropping my keys onto the entryway table. Jude is sprawled on the sofa, one arm thrown over his eyes, the other dangling off the edge holding a half-eaten oatmeal raisin cookie.
The TV is playing some nature documentary about jellyfish, the blue light washing over his tired face. He lowers his arm when he hears me come in, sitting up. He looks… heavy. Weighed down.
“Hey,” he says, his voice rough. “You’re late.”
“Long day,” I reply, moving to sit on the armchair opposite him. I kick off my boots, my feet throbbing. “We had a rush. And then I had to check on the flowers at Wren’s.”
Jude nods slowly, his eyes tracking my movements. He takes a bite of his cookie, chewing thoughtfully. “I feel like I haven’t really talked to you in days. You’re always gone when I wake up and asleep when I get home.”
“I’ve been picking up extra shifts at the restaurant.”
“Right. The restaurant.” He sets the cookie down on a napkin. “Is that all it is?”
I stiffen. “What do you mean?”
He sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face.
“I’m not stupid, Amber. I can smell it on you.
You come home reeking of Alpha pheromones.
Specifically, that distinct blend of woodsmoke, sea salt, and sugar.
You’re spending all your time with that pack.
The butcher, the baker, the… whatever the other one is. ”
“Knox is the head chef,” I say, perhaps a bit too defensively. “And yes, I’m working there, Jude. I need the money. The shop is closing in two weeks. You know this.”
“I know you need money. I’ve told you a thousand times you don’t need to scramble for it. I can help.”
“I don’t want your help,” I snap, then immediately regret it. I take a breath, trying to soften my tone. “I need to do this myself. And yes, I’m working there. But is there something else going on? Why are you asking like that?”
Jude leans forward, his elbows on his knees. “Because I’m worried about you. You’re… different. Lighter, maybe. But also more secretive. I know how Alphas are, Amber. Especially a pack of three unmated males. They can be intense. Are you… involved with them?”
I look away, staring at the pattern on the rug. I don’t want to have this conversation.
I don’t want to dissect my feelings for Eli, or the confusing way my heart hammers when Knox looks at me, or the electric charge I feel when Fallon teases me.
“I’m seeing Eli,” I admit finally. “But it’s not… official. It’s casual. We’re just figuring things out.”
“Eli.” Jude tests the name. “The baker.”
“Yes. He’s good to me, Jude. He’s kind. He helped me with the car. He gave Maisie lemon tarts.”
“Does he know about Luke?” The question is like a stone dropping into a pond.
“No,” I say quickly. Too quickly. “I haven’t told him yet.”
Jude’s eyes narrow. “Has Luke tried to contact you?”
My stomach lurches. The image of Luke’s face, the sound of his voice telling me he was happy with someone else, flashes through my mind. The fear I felt.
But I can’t tell Jude. If I tell him, he’ll track him down. He’ll do something stupid. He’ll get hurt, or worse, he’ll get arrested, and then where would Maisie be?
“No,” I lie, keeping my face blank. “I haven’t heard from him. I blocked his number. I’m being careful, Jude. I know in the past I wasn’t… I made mistakes. But I’m not that girl anymore. I know how to protect myself now.”
Jude searches my eyes, looking for the crack in the armor. For a second, I think he sees it. But then he sits back, the tension leaving his shoulders.
“Okay,” he says, though he doesn’t sound entirely convinced. “I just… I can’t lose you again, Amber. I can’t go back to that.”
“You won’t,” I promise. “I’m right here.”
He nods, picking up his cookie again. “Maisie can’t stop talking about that pizza night, by the way. She kept going on about how you all watched a movie at the theater and then went to the restaurant.”
I feel a flush of irritation. The implication is clear. He thinks I orchestrated it. He thinks I’m throwing myself and my daughter at a pack of strangers.
“It was a coincidence,” I say, my voice tight. “Maisie wanted to see the movie. We ran into them. They offered pizza. It was nice. Why does it have to be something else?”
“I’m just saying, it’s a small town,” Jude mutters. “It seems… convenient.”