Page 16 of Knot Our Omega

I nodded in response.

Penn took her other hand and like me, she let him. “Always, omega. We want to spend as much time as possible with you. So let’s all eat. I’m going to put a little of everything on your plate. You eat what you like and as much as you want and let us know what you don’t.”

“Don’t you like coffee, Rumor?” Vargas asked.

“I wasn’t allowed coffee,” she whispered.

There were necessities in this life. Death. Taxes. And coffee. She was clearly missing a big piece.

“I’m getting you a cup. What do you like in it?”

She faintly smiled. “Ungodly amounts of flavored creamer, please.”

“You got it.” Vargas poured her a cup, humming. He placed it in front of her. As she took her first sip, she let out a noise of approval, and I tensed. Gods, I hoped I could find a way to coax that sound out of her in the future. If by no other means than more coffee.

We began to eat but only after she took her first bite. We were gentlemen, after all.

“So, how did you sleep, Rumor?” I asked after watching her down half the plate. I saw her eyeing more toast and I took the liberty of putting some on her plate.

“Like the dead, actually. It’s…it’s been a long time since I slept that well. Did you put me in someone’s room? Is that the place I’m going to be staying?”

I swallowed. Of course it was. That was the room and the nest we put together with only the dream of her in our minds.

“It’s your room,” I said plainly. “It’s all yours.”

“Oh. It’s beautiful. Thank you. The bed is incredible. I’ve never seen a round bed before.”

“Wilder custom built it.”

If I wasn’t melted before, I was a puddle now. I would give her anything she wanted—anything that I had to give. “You did? It’s really something.”

“You don’t like cantaloupe?” Penn asked, noticing the pile of the orange fruit on the side of her plate.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I really don’t. It tastes…musky.”

Note taken.

“No more cantaloupe growing for you, Vargas,” I laughed. “Well, maybe only to sell.”

“You grow these?” she asked.

“We grew all the fruit on this table. And we gathered the honey in that jar. We make the preserves in those jars from the fruit on our trees. The eggs come from our chickens out back.”

“Right here?” She looked around.

“Right here,” Penn offered. “How about we finish up and take a tour around our farm?”

Her face brightened. “I would like that. Thank you. But…” Her gaze drifted to the kitchen. It wasn’t a bigger mess than any of us would have made.

Vargas stood. “I’ve got cleanup duty this morning. We all take turns, okay?”

She tugged at a few blonde hairs floating in front of her ear. Was it as silky and smooth as it looked? “Okay.”

Penn and I walked around with her while Vargas stayed behind to clean up. She seemed in awe of the whole place. She asked questions about what was growing and stood slightly behind Penn as we showed her the bees. The chickens flocked to her like a magnet, and so did Old Bay, our German shepherd. He mostly stayed outside, by choice, but I had a feeling he would come in more often now. Even the sunflowers seemed to turn in her direction.

“We sell a lot of our produce and honey in town, but we preserve and eat most of it. We also have a freeze dryer and a dehydrator. We have become pretty self-sufficient over time.”

Vargas walked up behind her as we stood there. “You won’t ever want for anything here.”

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