Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
BEAU
C aleb and Brielle start back to the Monroe farmhouse without another word, Penny still in my brother’s arms. I force Triston to stillness when he tries to follow them. He freezes, his entire body so damn tense. Emily’s just as tightly strung to my left, her death grip on my hand making it numb.
“We don’t have to navigate this tonight,” I tell them both.
Even if I can’t smell the exact edge to Emily’s vanilla scent, it’s obvious she’s emotional and volatile.
Caleb wouldn’t have suddenly dropped into such a careful tone and paused at the entrance to the barn if her scent was communicating something happy.
Triston’s not much better. Even though his own clove scent is hidden behind whatever scent-blocking technology he’s using, it’s clear enough that he’s a mess, too.
His hand shakes as he runs it down his neck again, and his breathing is unsteady, like he’s having to make the active choice for each inhale.
Emily frowns but doesn’t say anything. She’s completely shut down, the same she was when we told the families she was pregnant.
Dropping her hand, I grab her chin and force her to look at me without letting go of Triston.
If I so much as ease the pressure on his elbow, he’ll be running.
He has that look about him, the same one the cattle get when they’re especially spooked because wolves are near.
I don’t want him to think of any of us as wolves.
Emily’s gaze fills with panic as the silence builds between the three of us all over again.
There’s no way I can let her go into her parents’ place like this.
Not with Brielle still so newly postpartum.
Ethan will already be ready to snap at the smallest things, any slight discomfort he feels from his bond with Brielle.
Add to it him realizing Emily slept with not just me but his other best friend, too, that summer?
Emily’s too raw and unsteady to handle the results of that with any kind of decorum.
It’ll be a fist fight. Literally. Hell, it was nearly an all-out brawl when it was just me and no toddlers making tempers flare hotter and faster.
“You need to go home,” I instruct her, keeping my voice low without brooking any kind of argument.
There’s not even a flash in her eyes, a moment of defiance.
That’s how I know I’m absolutely right in my assessment.
She’s too raw right now. Something small will happen in there and then we’ll have an absolute mess on our hands.
Her throat moves as she swallows. There’s a pulse of her scent, and Triston whines, pulling against my hold on him.
“Fuck,” I mutter. I tighten my hold on her chin until her eyes widen and then let my hand drop to her throat. Her pulse flutters under my thumb. “You need to breathe, firecracker.”
She purses her lips, but her nostrils flare as she finally manages to take a deep breath. Her scent doesn’t change to me, but Triston relaxes subtly.
“Good girl,” I whisper. “Now you need to go home before you end up setting off both of my brothers. The last thing this needs is a brawl between the three of you for things that can’t be changed.”
She doesn’t say anything for a long moment. When she finally nods once, the movement tightly controlled, I kiss her temple and then drop my hold on her throat. She walks out of the barn without looking back at just shy of an all-out run. Triston relaxes fully as soon as she’s out of sight.
He clears his throat and glances at me. “So, uh… dinner?”
“Sure,” I agree easily enough. “Walk or drive?”
When he only shrugs, I lead him to my work truck and slide behind the wheel. He doesn’t say a word the short drive to the Monroes’ farmhouse across the meadow, though his hands tremble where he holds the brim of his hat with a loose grip.
“Caleb will make sure they don’t say anything,” I offer as we pull up behind Melissa’s Subaru. “Not unless you bring it up first. That’s what they meant by running interference.”
He flinches. “It’s fine. I’m an adult. I can handle it.”
I can’t help but frown. “Yeah, well, doesn’t mean you have to. Unless you say something first, everyone will keep their mouths shut.”
He blows out a heavy breath, centering himself. Then he’s out of the truck, shutting the door and turning toward Scott and Lynn’s place.
I try and find something for him to latch onto that won’t force him into any more vulnerability.
Omegas are already prone to panic in large groups and finding out about Penny certainly isn’t going to help that.
Hopefully removing Emily from the situation is helpful.
It should be. A nervous Omega doesn’t respond well to an Alpha who’s on edge.
“Everyone’s excited to have you home.”
His smile is hollow and doesn’t touch his eyes, but at least he doesn’t look like he’s a second from completely breaking down.
Small improvement. He keeps pace with me as I trek up the four porch stairs.
The front door’s already open, the dull hum of several conversations overlaying themselves bleeding out from the house.
Triston sucks in a breath and then steps into the house in front of me, his hands shoved deep in his pockets and his shoulders more relaxed than I’ve seen them the last hour.
I hang back as Triston slowly integrates with the families, leaning against the wall across the kitchen.
Penny’s perched on Lynn’s hip near the patio doors, eating a chocolate-covered strawberry without a care for the juice dribbling down her chin.
Part of me wants to put a bib on her so Emily doesn’t stress out about the stains on the dress, but I keep myself immobile.
Lynn’s quick to wipe the worst of it from my daughter’s chin as she giggles without pausing her conversation with her husband, Scott while he grills.
Hudson and Dad are laughing at the island, Hudson’s hand running through Jonas’s hair.
Ethan guides Triston to them, seamlessly adding the two of them into the conversation.
There’s a few furtive glances from Penny to Triston, and Hudson focuses on me, an eyebrow raised.
I only flatten my lips and shrug, conveying my knowledge of the entire situation without saying a single word.
Brielle is nestled in the large chair in the living room, nursing Naomi while Melissa and Olivia quietly chat with her.
After a few minutes, I slowly let myself leave the outskirts and perch an elbow on the large island next to where my mom sitting.
“Is Emily not coming?” she asks, glancing up from the small paperback she has held open on the counter.
It’s not that Mom doesn’t enjoy these big family events.
She just tends to watch and listen rather than drive the conversations.
Part of it is the fact she owns and runs the main cafe in town, the Rustic Roast, and so spends her days making small talk with tourists.
The other part is being the mom to three sons, two of which presented as Alphas within six months of each other in the height of high school.
Watching and waiting was often the best method of handling Hudson and Caleb when they were climbing the walls trying to adjust to all of the Alpha urges.
I shake my head, popping a piece of cheese from the wood cutting board in my mouth, and Mom frowns.
“I thought everything was ready for opening weekend at Misty.” She closes the paperback. “Does she need help? I can have Miranda open alone tomorrow if another set of hands are needed.”
That’s my mom, always ready to jump in where needed.
All of the family is like that, actually.
When Brielle’d gone into heat suddenly with Caleb in the backcountry a couple years ago, we’d all pitched in and made sure Camden was taken care of.
Not to mention they’d dropped everything when Emily went into labor early and we’d had to rush to Jackson.
We’d been in the middle of a rough calving season with the Highlands herd, and no one had batted an eye at switching responsibilities so I could be with Emily the entire week we were trying to keep her from having Penny.
Melissa glances up at the mention of the recreational ranch she owns that Emily helps her run. She frowns and leans over the back of the couch.
“No, everything’s fine,” she says. She pushes up her glasses. “Sage is finishing up the last couple things tomorrow, a few smaller decoration projects. We’re ready for Saturday.”
An oven timer goes off. Lynn hands Penny off to Ethan, kissing her juice covered cheek before crossing the kitchen and pulling side dishes from the double wall ovens.
Hudson quickly joins her, helping arrange everything on the counter along the back wall.
After a moment, Caleb helps, too, then builds a plate.
As he takes it to Brielle, Ethan grunts, a noise of surprise.
I breathe in slowly as I focus on him and my daughter. His eyes are full of the same question everyone else has had since Triston walked in. When I nod once, his lips flatten and he scrunches his nose in an almost grimace.
“What’s that face for?” Scott asks as he walks by with a plate full of steaks. “I didn’t even burn them this time.”
Despite everything, I manage a small smile. To my knowledge, Scott’s never once burned food when he’s grilling. Ethan starts to say something, but a kid’s happy squeal cuts him off.
“Mom! Mom, look!” Camden comes running in from the back patio, rushing around the furniture and skidding to a stop beside Brielle.
In his hand is a single white daffodil. He’s been obsessed with flowers since he was a toddler and starting kindergarten this last year hasn’t dulled that love at all. “Papa let me pick it for you.”
Bless that kid.
Before Ethan can try and bring it up again, Lynn and Scott are standing together on the other side of the island, and Scott whistles loud enough to cut through the din of everyone chatting. Once everyone’s focused on him, he smiles and lifts his bottle of beer.
“To Triston,” he says warmly. “Congratulations on your historic win.”
Triston smiles and holds up his own beer in acceptance as everyone claps and cheers. His gaze flicks to Penny, and his throat moves with a swallow. The elephant’s suffocating the room, but no one acknowledges it.
“Thank you,” he murmurs.
Penny wiggles against Ethan, and he sets her down. She runs straight for me, tapping on my leg. “Up, Dada.”
The tension in the room is thick enough to choke as I ease her up onto my hip and she presses her lips to my cheek, leaving a wet mark behind.
Triston’s eyes are glassy when I look at him again.
A rope tightens around my chest. I have no idea what to do, how to handle any of this right now, especially not in front of my entire family.
“We’re happy to have you here for the next few weeks,” Lynn adds in a valiant attempt to cut through the silence. “Now come grab some food.”
Triston manages a small smile and nods. “Yes, ma’am.”