Chapter 12
Kade
I wake before Emrys with his hand spread over my chest and his face tucked against my side like he chose the exact place he wanted and never questioned whether he was allowed to keep it.
The nest is still uneven from the way we rebuilt it last night, one side tucked too tight against the wall and the cream blanket half twisted around my thigh.
A cushion has spent the night trying to work beneath my ribs, but Emrys slept through most of it with his ear over my heart, and that matters more than comfort.
His scent is easy this morning, vanilla and brown sugar threaded through the cedar from my jacket where he tucked it along the side of the nest. The sour edge from last night is gone.
I stay until his breathing tells me he’s deep enough to move, then ease out from under him slowly.
His fingers catch once in my shirt before I free them, and he makes a soft sound but doesn’t wake.
I pull the blanket up around his shoulder, tuck it close enough that he won’t reach for me and find empty air immediately, then step into his kitchen in my boxers.
I’m not even sure when I stripped down but feeling Emrys pressed against me all night was worth it.
Though, the universe has a nasty sense of humor.
I’m standing in the kitchen of the Omega I was arrested for protecting, making coffee like this is an ordinary morning and not the first one I’ve had in his apartment after days of being told I was the danger.
I move on autopilot, even pulling out the honey because I’ve had exactly one cup from Ardor and remembered asking how Emrys made it.
A smile spreads across my lips as I open the cupboard, remembering Emrys complaining in the building chat weeks ago that the second cupboard is the only one with hinges that don’t sound like a dying bird.
Of course that’s where he keeps the things he reaches for every day: honey, tea, cocoa, cinnamon, ginger candies, and a small jar of emergency sprinkles with delicate handwriting on the label.
I set the honey beside his mug and pour my coffee as bare feet move over the floor behind me.
Emrys comes in wearing soft sleep pants and the gray hoodie from last night, his lids still heavy.
He stops when he sees me at the counter.
His gaze drops to my bare chest, lower for a breath, then back up, and the color rising in his face makes my hand tighten around the mug.
“You found the honey,” he says, voice rough from sleep.
“You mentioned the cupboard weeks ago.”
His brows pull together. “You remembered that?”
“I remember most things about you.”
Emrys looks at me for a second, soft and uncertain in a way that tells me exactly how many times he’s convinced himself the attention meant nothing. Then he crosses the kitchen and kisses me, just as easily as he had last night.
There’s no warning. No shy reach for permission. His hand lands against my chest, and his mouth presses to mine like he’s done it every morning for years. I keep my hands off him for one breath, giving him space to decide that’s enough, but he only leans closer, his fingers curling against my skin.
I set the mug down, catch him under the thighs, and lift him onto the counter.
His breath catches against my mouth as I step between his knees, one hand settling at his hip and the other sliding along his jaw.
He makes a small sound when I kiss him again, and I keep the pressure careful around the split at the corner of his mouth, slow enough that he can feel every second of it.
Emrys’ hands move over my shoulders, then around the back of my neck, and he opens for me with a soft, shaken trust that goes straight under my skin.
I let the kiss deepen, letting him feel the way my body wants him, the way I’m holding myself back because he matters too much to be rushed.
The kitchen disappears around us for a few seconds.
There’s only Emrys warmth on the counter, his scent blooming sweeter with every breath, and the ache of eight months of finally becoming something real.
When I pull back, his face is flushed, his fingers still folded together behind my neck.
“I’ve been thinking of doing that for too long,” I tell him.
“The counter?” he asks, dazed.
I brush my thumb lightly along his jaw. “Kissing you until you stopped wondering whether I wanted to.”
His eyes shine fast enough that my chest tightens. “I couldn’t tell. I thought maybe you were just like that with people. Protective. Careful. I thought maybe I was making it into something because I wanted it to be something.”
“You weren’t.” I tip his chin up when his gaze starts to fall. “Listen to me, Rys. I saw you. I wanted you. I stayed away because I didn’t know how to want you without putting too much of myself in your space before you asked for it.”
His hands flatten against my chest, right over my heart. “I’ve been waiting eight months.”
“I know that now. And for the record, I always saw you that way.” I kiss him again, softer this time, because the first answer doesn’t feel like enough.
“I saw the flour on your sleeves, the way you left bread at Mrs. Allen’s door when she was sick, the way you smiled at me in the hallway and then looked away like you’d been caught asking for something. I saw you, sweetheart.”
His breath shakes. “Is this a thing now?”
My mouth curves before I can stop it, but the question matters too much to turn into a joke. “If you want it to be.”
“I do.”
A knock interrupts the moment before I can kiss him again.
Emrys startles, and I help him down from the counter before moving toward the living room.
He follows, stubborn even with his face flushed and his mouth soft from mine.
Through the peephole, Skylar Grayson stands in yesterday’s jacket with damp hair, a diner bag in one hand, and the expression of a man who has argued himself in and out of knocking enough times to lose count.
I open the door, trying to hide my smile. Skylar’s gaze moves from my bare chest to Emrys behind me, then back to my face. I can’t tell by the shape of his scent if he’s jealous, startled, or just plain confused. “I brought breakfast.”
Emrys slips around my side before I can answer. His whole face brightens when he sees the bag. “Are those donuts?”
Skylar lifts it a little. “Diner donuts. Which sounds worse than it is. I was in the area, and I wanted to check if you were okay, and there’s an update on the camera request. Also, the diner was open.
” He stops, hearing the excuses pile up between us.
His mouth tightens. “I brought breakfast,” he says again.
Emrys reaches for him without hesitation, fingers circling Skylar’s wrist, and pulls him inside. “Good. We like breakfast.”
Skylar goes still at the contact, his scent shifting before his face does. Emrys takes the bag, peeks inside, then kisses Skylar’s cheek in one quick, grateful press that looks almost thoughtless until Skylar’s whole body locks.
Emrys pauses, his cheeks coloring. “Sorry.”
Skylar’s eyes flick to him. “Don’t apologize for that.”
Emrys doesn’t push, only gives him a soft look before carrying the bag to the kitchen and setting donuts on plates. Skylar gives the update near the counter with his hands in his jacket pockets like he still isn’t sure what to do with himself.
“You’ll find it,” Emrys says, sliding coffee toward him. “You brought Kade home.”
Skylar looks down at the mug. “That wasn’t just me.”
“No, but you didn’t let them leave it wrong.
” Emrys leans against the counter, studying him with that gentle directness I have already learned can undo a man faster than force.
“You keep making yourself smaller as if you weren’t the only one who did the good thing.
” Emrys’s voice stays soft. “It’s just something I noticed. ”
Skylar looks like he wants to offset the moment with a joke but instead, his shoulders relax a fraction, his gaze shifting through the room. I still can’t read where his head’s at.
“Has anyone ever wanted you without needing you to fix something first?” Emrys asks.
His scent tightens, then shutters so quickly that every protective part of me comes awake. Skylar looks at the coffee instead of Emrys. “That’s a dangerous thing to ask anyone before coffee.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“No,” Skylar says quietly. “It isn’t.”
He lasts only a few more minutes after that before saying he should go, and none of us believes it’s about time. He asks me to walk him out, which is its own kind of surrender. I follow him into the hall and close Emrys’ door behind us.
Skylar makes it three steps before I decide to break the tension, needing to know what his stake is in whatever’s building between this. “If you keep showing up, make it clear.”
The muscles in his jaw tighten as he meets my gaze. “That’s not… Kade, it’s not that simple.”
“No, it isn’t. He’s already hoping, and I won’t let you give him something you aren’t willing to stand behind.”
Skylar sighs, the tiredness in his eyes keeping the anger from landing. “I don’t know what I want.”
“That’s part of the truth, not all of it.
” I step closer, keeping my voice low enough to stay between us.
“You have the badge, the case, Morrison, ethics, and every other reason that sounds better than wanting something you didn’t plan.
I’m not dismissing any of it. I’m saying none of it answers the question I’m asking. ”
“And what question is that?” He tips his head back to truly meet my gaze.
“You.” I brace one hand on the wall beside his head, close enough that my scent makes his nostrils flare slightly. “Not the detective. Not the man trying to make himself useful enough to justify taking up space. You. What do you want?”
Skylar’s expression darkens slightly. “I don’t get attached.” His eyes dip to my bare chest and then back to my face, his cheeks reddening with a mixture of embarrassment and desire. Now that I’m close enough, I can see that there isn’t any jealousy there, just confusion.
“You’re already attached.” I chuckle softly as he bristles beneath my presence.
“I’m not pushing you. I know what’s pulling at us, strange as fate is, and we’ll go as slow as we need to make this work, if that’s what you want.
There’s no need to force it. But I need to know if this is going somewhere eventually, or if I need to step back before Emrys starts building hope around you. ”
His eyes cut toward Emrys’s door. “I shouldn’t want this.”
“That’s still not an answer.”
“I’m not good for this.”
“That isn’t either.”
He looks ready to leave with every true thing locked behind his teeth.
Then something slips, and his voice comes out quiet, stripped of every joke he has been hiding behind.
“I don’t want to be alone.” The words sit there, too honest to survive long.
Skylar’s face closes almost immediately.
“I don’t know why I said that. Excuse me. ”
He turns like he means to go, and I catch his wrist before he gets farther than a step. Tension locks through his shoulders as he stops. I give him one breath to pull away, then turn him back into me and press my lips to his.
My hand comes to his jaw, the other still loose around his wrist, and I kiss him slowly enough that he has to feel the choice in it.
Skylar goes rigid for half a second, then breaks open with a low sound in his throat, stepping into me like he has held himself back so long that moving forward feels like falling.
He tastes like coffee and rain. Amber rises under my palm, rougher now, less guarded, and when his fingers catch at my waist, I deepen the kiss just enough to make him feel what he’s being offered.
When I pull back, his lips are parted and his eyes are less guarded than they used to be.
I step back first and fold my arms over my chest, giving him some space.
“Next time you come over, drop the excuse,” I tell him.
“Let Emrys know you’re here because of him.
Not the investigation. Not a camera request. Him. ”
Skylar looks toward the door, nervous enough that his scent gives him away. Then he nods once.
“Good.” I reach for the handle. “Now go find out who put our Omega in danger.”
His eyes cut back to mine. “Our?”
I grin because it is either that or kiss him again. “Go to work, detective.”
I step inside before he can argue. Emrys is at the counter with a donut half eaten, his cheeks slightly reddened and eyes too curious to pretend he has not been listening. “What was that?”
I lock the door behind me. “I was giving our detective a little reassurance.”
“Our detective?”
“Yes.”
His blush deepens as he glances toward the door. “You’re very sure of yourself for someone who came home yesterday.”
I cross the kitchen and take the donut from his hand. “I’ve been waiting too, Emrys and I’m not passing up a chance fate is putting in my lap, as strange as it is the way we met.” Now, I just have to make Skylar actually believe that.