Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
EMILY
“ O h! Jonas!” Olivia’s voice cuts through the growing din of conversation. “Don’t pop the balloons!”
She rushes past me and down the porch’s stairs, her hands outstretched as she tries to keep Jonas away from the nearest cluster of balloons we have lining the long driveway.
Beau brushes past me, running his hand along my hip as he hands me a soda from the cooler.
He avoids the chalk drawings slowly edging out from the center of the concrete and joins Ethan and Kyle.
Paul joins them, too, his daughter perched on his hip.
She’s a few months older than Penny, almost perfectly splitting the gap between when Jonas was born right after Christmas and Penny’s birth the next May.
Mom climbs the porch steps and pauses next to me.
Her brown hair is curled to perfection in large barrel rolls that fall around her shoulders.
Her green and blue floral dress is probably a bit more formal than needed, but it suits her in the same way most of the men wearing worn Levis and their preferred cowboy hats suit them.
“The chalk is such a perfect idea,” she says. “It keeps the kids all entertained without being too messy.”
“Speak for yourself, Lynn.” Caleb chuckles as he steps onto the porch. “Your dress has exactly zero hand prints.”
She laughs. “Better than being soaked to the bone from a wayward sprinkler,” she says.
Caleb concedes the point.
Camden rushes past him, a small flower in his hand.
He skids to a stop in front of Ethan and holds out the daisy that had been sitting in a vase on the island counter.
Beau must have given him permission to take it.
It’s something we all do when we have flowers.
Camden loves them so much, loves giving them to anyone who might smile at the kindness.
It’s never bothered me before. And yet this time a fierce possessiveness swells under my sternum, stealing my breath and infecting my scent as it pulses around me.
Caleb frowns.
“Shit, sorry. I can have him put it back,” he says. “Beau didn’t say this set he got you was off limits.”
I quickly swallow the jealous growl wanting to rip out of my throat and shake away the urge to punch something, opening the soda with trembling fingers.
“No, it’s fine.” I take a long drink of the soda to hide the rasping envy in my voice. “ Just pretend you didn’t see that.”
It’s not like I’ve done anything to claim the Omega who gave me the flowers. I didn’t even have the bravery to say something to him yesterday before he left when Penny needed to take her first nap.
Caleb doesn’t look convinced, and it has Mom frowning now, too.
She looks toward Camden and understanding softens her features.
Of course Mom saw the flowers he’d brought me.
They probably sat on her counter before they moved to mine.
She deftly moves until she stands between me and Caleb, looping her arm in mine.
He raises an eyebrow but heads down the driveway without comment, kissing Brielle’s temple on his way to stand with his dad.
“Yesterday went well, then,” Mom says once it’s just the two of us on the porch. Her voice is quiet enough to be lost in the din of all the conversations and toddlers laughing.
I shrug, not sure I can be trusted to say anything that won’t come out a half-formed pleading scream. She squeezes my hand and rests her head against mine for a heartbeat, her silent show of support and comfort.
Penny’s happy squeal cuts through the crowd, my ears trained to the sound.
My stomach twists over itself, my vanilla pulsing stronger with that territorial edge, as she runs right to where Triston’s joined Caleb and Mark and Scott.
His jeans are the same cut as the ones he wore yesterday, the hat one I’ve never seen him wear here, though it’s identical to the one worn in all of his competition rides.
He wears a light black and gray flannel unbuttoned, revealing a black t-shirt that clings to his chest even more than the one he’d worn yesterday.
He looks down as Penny slams into his leg, his hand cupping the back of her head like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
His hold as he perches her on his hip isn’t as awkward as it was last week, his touch more comfortable.
She has the bunny blanket clutched in her arms with nothing less than a death grip.
Mark and Scott both smile. Caleb holds up his hand in a wave, and Penny tucks her face against Triston’s shoulder, the exact same way she does with us when she’s shy and doesn’t want to interact with someone.
Confusion and envy and jealousy mix together into an indescribable ball, making it nearly impossible to breathe.
Triston brushes his lips against her temple, and the ball burns hotter than the sun itself.
My scent flashes out from me, so strong it’s a miracle no one notices it.
I accidentally crush the soda can. With a curse, I hold it out from me, barely avoiding the sticky liquid spraying all over the porch.
The party’s busy enough no one notices my loss of control.
I shake off the worst of it and then wipe off the mess on my hands with a couple of the ice cubes from the cooler.
The frozen liquid burns, but it helps alleviate some of the festering jealousy still bleeding out from my chest and into my limbs.
“Oh, Emmy baby,” Mom whispers. She takes the ruined can and tosses it in one of the small trash cans scattered around the edges of the party. “It’s not a weakness to want him, too, darling. I know he wasn’t here, but it’s clear he’s torn up about it. Give him a chance to explain himself.”
I shrug. He already has explained himself, tears in his eyes and absolutely stricken with horror in our family’s barn, when he asked why those he’d put in charge of his safety hadn’t told him about the messages I’d sent him.
Before I have to admit to any of the messy things twisting up my stomach and confusing my mind, there’s a sudden, loud pop as one of the balloons explodes. Jonas laughs as several people curse. A baby’s cries fill the following silence.
Hudson rushes across the driveway, abandoning whatever conversation he was having with Paul to scoop up Jonas.
Olivia sighs. “Damn it,” she groans. “I’m so sorry, Brielle.”
Brielle gives a small smile. Ethan’s by her side in another few moments, running his finger along Naomi’s cheekbone.
Her crying fades away within a few seconds, soothed back to sleep between his touch and Brielle’s warmth.
He bends down and whispers something to Brielle, and stress falls away from her shoulders.
He looks across the party, and Caleb nods without missing a word of what he’s saying to Mark.
“How about we do the cake?” Mom whispers just as Joan steps out of the house and adjusts her cardigan. She loops her arm with mine again. “Some of the kids are needing a break, including Penny, and it’ll be getting dark soon.”
“That’s a lovely idea,” Joan says. “I’d like to get some photos of you all in the golden hour light while she’s still in that adorable outfit. Those boots are to die for, Emily. And the way they match that new cuddle blanket perfectly? It’s so cute. How did you find them?”
Mom drops my arm and grabs my brother’s elbow when he tries to pass by.
He stops without complaint, his eyebrows furrowing.
“I didn’t.” I swallow and plaster on a fake-as-all-hell smile to answer Joan’s question. “Triston did.”
Ethan’s eyebrow slowly rises in very real surprise. His gaze snaps to Penny, and he whistles. It’s obvious he recognizes the brand on the small tag of the boots. Any person who ranches would.
Joan’s smile is even wider than before. “Oh, that’s so sweet! He did a fantastic job. She’s not liked any blanket quite that much, has she?”
A lump crowds my throat, impossible to form words around. My scent pulses again, and Ethan grunts like he’s been punched. Mom and Joan are both oblivious, but I try to calm my breathing anyway. The last person who needs to know my mess of a mind is my brother.
“What’s up, Mom?” he asks, dropping his attention away from me.
“Will you grab the cupcakes with me, please?”
Joan’s quick to help facilitate the transition. She cups her hands around her mouth and calls across the party. “Hudson, come help set up for cake, please.”
That sets everyone else in motion, too. Camden and Mason—the four year old of Jake’s pack—cheer and clap and then rush to the patio. Paul’s three year old boy follows after them, abandoning the chalk drawing he’d been working on.
“Are they green?” Mason asks. “Green cupcakes are my favorite.”
“We’ll have to wait and see,” Joan says, her voice warm. “Why don’t you boys help Mark move a couple of these bubble toys so there’s a spot for Penny’s chair?”
As she directs them to the space, everyone slowly converges.
Beau chuckles as Paul says something, shaking his head.
Another pulse of my scent pushes away from me, smaller than before but no less revealing.
Penny’s still plastered to Triston’s side, her new blanket held tightly in both hands.
Brielle’s eyes lock on me, and her brows furrow in concern.
Jake’s pack doesn’t make a comment, but Melissa tenses.
“Melissa, would you be willing to take a few photos for us before Penny’s not in her birthday outfit anymore?” Joan asks when she realizes she’s close enough. “Your photos are always so lovely.”
Melissa smiles, adjusts her glasses, and lifts the camera she has looped around her neck.
“Of course, Joan!” Then, to me, she asks, “Do you want them where you’ve done all the other monthly ones?”
She points over her shoulder to the large cluster of aspen trees that sits between the main house and the guest cabin. The leaves have started coming in, filling the white branches with splashes of green.
“Sure,” I manage to say almost normally.
Melissa’s quick to start across the meadow. Brielle’s frown grows, the small lines around her lips deepening. She grabs my elbow in a surprisingly strong grip as I navigate the stairs and start toward the trees.
“You all right?”
That lump closes off my throat again, the ball of emotion rushing through me, leaving me a volatile Alpha ready to fall into a jealous, possessive rage over an Omega who isn’t even mine.
My scent betrays that internal line I straddle, and the color bleeds from Brielle’s cheeks.
She drops her hold like she’s been burned.
All the other Alphas standing within ten feet of me look, too, coiling with the need to protect their own packs from my emotional unpredictability.
Caleb eases closer, within arm’s reach of Brielle, though he doesn’t touch her, still trusting that I’ll not actually fall over that edge.
Triston swallows a whine, and my scent flares again.
Beau palms the nape of my neck, and I settle just enough to not completely lose it. I shove my hands into the back pockets of my jeans to hide just how much they’re shaking.
“Fine,” I mutter, though no one actually believes me.
Beau’s lips are soft but unyielding on my temple, forcing me back from the edge. He laces his hand with mine and then guides me to the trees. I can feel Triston following us, but I don’t risk looking at him. When we reach the trees, he sets Penny down and takes a few steps back.
Melissa doesn’t say a word as she takes candid photos.
Each of us hold Penny for a bit, and I try to keep a smile curving my lips.
After a few minutes, Penny reaches for Triston again, curling forward in my hold.
I can’t help but focus on him as he takes her.
His pulse beats fast in his throat, and the barest hint of his clove scent clings to his clothes, a remnant from when he’d dressed, probably, since he’s not had a single bit of it break through whatever blockers he’s wearing.
I breathe it in, and there’s that sour smell, too.
The need to run my hands through his hair, plaster myself against him, rips through me.
Brielle’s probably right. He probably is touch-starved.
All of me wants to close the foot of distance, to make the first move. And yet I can’t. I’m rooted to the ground, that nagging, belittling voice that’s been silent for over a year screeching at me that I’ll end up alone, that it’s better to just never reach out and try in the first place.
His eyes catch mine, and my entire world narrows to the longing in them.
A thousand years could have passed, and I wouldn’t know.
“Firecracker, they’re waiting for us,” Beau whispers.
His voice holds that same longing, too.
It’s only then I realize Melissa’s gone back to the main house. I drop my gaze to my boot-clad feet and breathe deeply.
“Right.” Then I clear my throat and focus on my daughter. “Love bug, you want to go see the cake Uncle Hudson made for you?”
She kicks against Triston in answer. When he puts her down, she takes off across the clearing, the blanket trailing behind her, picking up pieces of sticks and dirt.
Triston doesn’t move to go back to the party.
Beau eases into the small bit of space separating us, his gaze flicking between us.
Triston looks at him and then back at me.
With Penny gone, he feels more fragile, like how he did in the barn.
Like he’s going to bolt at the first quick movement, a rabbit terrified of being caught.
He opens his mouth, but then he shakes his head.
He turns back to the party, leaving us to follow a few steps behind.