Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
TRISTON
T he touch-starvation morphs over the next few days, becoming a burning restlessness that no amount of hard labor around the ranch can manage to dampen.
My scent’s constantly holding the sour edge, intense enough I’ve started religiously wearing my scent blockers again, even when it’s only me and the other Beta farmhands.
Especially when I’m helping Scott or Lynn with something around their house.
My stomach cramps as Scott sets the last of the bags on the counter.
“Thanks for the help,” he says, adjusting his glasses as he smiles.
I unload the various food and household items from the bags already on the counter, keeping my hands busy. I’m going to need to do something about this itching under my palms and between my shoulder blades, and I’ve sworn off the bottle of pheromones stashed under the bathroom sink again.
“Of course.” I plaster a smile on my face, just like I did for various public events the last two years. “Thanks for letting me stay here the next couple weeks.”
He waves me off, his smile wide enough his eyes crinkle. He looks like Ethan when he does that, even though the rest of their coloring is polar opposite. His blond hair and blue eyes didn’t pass down to either of his kids.
I swallow down that entire line of thinking and focus on the groceries.
While I’m cleaning up the bags, Scott quietly starts a new pot of coffee and pulls down a travel mug before setting a nondescript white mug beside it.
I pull the trash even though it’s not quite full and breathe in the midmorning air as I step onto the back porch, crossing the small bit of yard that separates the house from the large dumpster.
By the time I slide the patio door closed and lean against the counter, slowly sipping a bit of water, Scott’s perched on one of the island stools, the town’s newspaper spread along the white stone, the simple mug of coffee in one hand. The travel mug is gone.
He must have taken it out to the other side of the house to where Lynn’s working on her beehives.
I busy myself with making a bit of late breakfast. The front door opens, and then Emily’s voice echoes down the short hallway that blocks the view of the kitchen.
“Mom? We’re here.”
My stomach clenches, and I breathe through the sudden, overwhelming need to beg her to touch me.
Just a brush of her hand against mine, her nose under my ear so her true scent lingers where I’ve contented to only have a flimsy replacement.
I’ve not gotten the craving stuffed down when Emily and Brielle both step around the corner.
Brielle’s arm is looped through a bulky, black infant car seat, the sunshade pulled down low enough the baby isn’t visible at all.
Her eyes are tired and her movements are stilted, but that sadness she’d had the last summer I was here is gone.
Instead, she has a happy contentment about her I haven’t really seen from an Omega since Kayla.
Not that I’ve been around any bonded Omegas since then.
Maybe it’s something that happens with the bonding, maybe some of the instincts quiet so not everything makes you unsettled.
I’d take that right about now.
Fuck , I can’t think that with the touch-starvation pulsing in my stomach like those pre-heat cramps that laid me out before I went on the suppressors.
“Oh, hi Dad.”
Penny’s perched on her hip, her head resting on her shoulder, making her lips pout.
Her hair is down, showing the soft curls that are identical to mine.
Instead of a dress, she’s wearing a set of pink shorts and a black long sleeve shirt with a butterfly outlined in white.
She has that dog plush Beau had mentioned on Saturday in one arm.
She twists in Emily’s hold when she sees me.
A smile brightens her face, and then she’s squirming against Emily.
“I thought Mom was watching Penny,” Emily says.
“She’s working on the garden and bees. We’ll go hang out with her once you gals are gone.”
Scott smiles as Emily carefully sets the baby on the ground, holding her waist until Penny takes a couple steps toward the kitchen.
“Well, good morning, pretty girl.”
She giggles and waves. The moment Emily’s hands fall away, Penny’s shuffling across the room toward Scott’s open arms.
A hot ball of emotion clogs my throat that I’m in no headspace to sort through.
I drop my gaze back to the toaster, begging it to go faster so I can hide in my room while someone else gets to know my daughter in a way I can’t.
Not until I somehow manage to talk to Emily about how much contact she’ll let me have.
Beau had said I’m welcome over for her birthday and party, but that’s leagues different than getting to be with her on a random Tuesday morning.
Small hands tap my leg, pulling me from the morose thoughts.
“Up,” Penny says, just as clearly as she did in the barn last week.
My eyes snap to Emily, the blood dropping from my face. Her throat moves as she swallows. She tucks her hands into her pockets as she nods, though she doesn’t offer any kind of smile.
As soon as I have Penny in my arms, she rests her head on my shoulder, her dog wedged between us, her grip on it stronger than I’d expected.
On instinct, I kiss the crown of her head.
She giggles and curls harder into me. I can’t help but look back at Emily.
Brielle’s focused on her, too, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion or maybe worry.
“This should be all of her things,” Emily says, her voice cracking. “She normally naps around noon.”
Scott frowns, looking up from the paper he’d turned back to, clearly ready to comment about information he probably already knows. That ton of bricks in my stomach somehow gets heavier. His mouth snaps shut as his gaze flashes to me and then back to the newspaper.
“There’s, um, a basket of toys.” She gestures over her shoulder toward the living room. “And I packed her current favorite blanket. I’m not sure if she’ll actually want it. We should be back before she wakes up.”
“Okay.” My voice cracks, too.
She nods and her eyes roam over the room, like she’s trying to find something else to say.
“Beau said they’re moving some of the Highlands today, but if something happens, you can call him.”
“Yeah, I know,” I say.
Of course I know what cattle they’re handling. I’m a ranch hand, too, even if my days off are the middle of the week so the others can have the weekends. At least for the moment.
Scott snorts. “Because your mother and I are suddenly chopped liver?”
Emily flushes and then clears her throat. “Right. Not what I meant, Dad.”
I’ve never seen her so unsure of herself, not even when we were drunkenly confessing how much we wanted to kiss each other in that bar up in Jackson a lifetime ago now.
Brielle says, her voice soft, “We’ll be back in a few hours.”
“You gals go have some fun.” Scott waves and takes a large drink of coffee. “We’ll be just fine.”
They don’t make any noise as they leave. At the click of the door closing, Penny lifts her head, her lips pushed into a pout. Her chest shudders with a caught, silent sob.
“Mama?”
Scott stands and walks around the island. “She’ll be back, pretty girl.”
The toaster finally finishes, and Penny jumps at the sound.
I awkwardly grab the bagel halves and drop them onto a plate.
Scott runs his finger along Penny’s cheek, and she does that hitching breath again.
He doesn’t say a word as I struggle to spread the cream cheese, though there’s no judgement evident in his demeanor at all.
“You want to show Triston your blocks?” he asks once I’ve set the knife in the sink and the cream cheese back in the fridge.
“Bok,” Penny says, though she doesn’t lift her head from my shoulder. She pulls her dog tighter into her side, her elbow jabbing into my arm.
I follow Scott to the living room, still too nervous to try and say something. Will my voice freak her out? Will it feel too loud, and those couple hitched breaths will become actual crying?
I ease Penny to the floor, and she holds onto my leg, those hitched breaths coming faster.
“Hey, pretty girl, it’s all right.” Scott grabs the wicker basket tucked next to the window overlooking the large garden and brings it over to the sectional, dropping into the spot nearest us.
“We’re not going anywhere, okay? You need to give him a chance to sit down, and then you can show him your blocks. ”
One of the hitched breaths gains sound, and I haphazardly set the bagel on the coffee table before settling on the floor.
Penny quickly crawls into my lap, her cheek pressed against my chest, like she needs the tactile comfort.
I glance up at Scott, and I know I must look entirely unnerved right now.
“I don’t…”
Scott’s smile is softer now. “It’s not you. Emily had really bad postpartum anxiety and couldn’t handle being separated from Penny until just a couple months ago. They’re both still getting used to it.”
My chest tightens for an entirely different reason than before.
“Is she okay?”
Scott shrugs and holds a neon green plush block the size of Penny’s head out to her. He focuses on me after she grabs it and tucks it against her chest. “Better. There was a bit there where we were all pretty worried, but I think she’s through the worst of it. Beau helped a lot.”
I swallow past the mixed swell of emotions. “Good. That’s… that’s good.”
Penny burrows closer into me, turning her head until she’s pressed entirely against my chest, both the dog and block wedged between her stomach and mine. Scott chuckles.
“Penny girl, do you want to show Triston any more blocks?”
She shakes her head and holds up the green square. “Bok.” She turns her head and taps the dog on my collarbone. “Duh.”
Scott sets the basket on the floor in front of me and then hands me the bagel.
“She really likes you,” he says.
“Yeah?” I carefully run my hand down her spine the way Beau did in the barn.
He nods. “She doesn’t really cuddle with people, not like that. She loves getting hugs. You saw that Thursday. But relaxing on someone’s lap? Emily and Beau, mostly. Not even Lynn.”
Something warm and weighty spreads under my chest, loosening some of my nervousness even as my skin tightens over my bones again, those cramps getting stronger. Two days until my appointment. I can make it that long without completely breaking down.
I press a soft kiss to my daughter’s temple and then carefully take a bite from the bagel.