Page 30 of Forget-Me-Nots and Apricots

"It's my job," he said simply, though something in his tone suggested it was more than that.

My stomach chose that moment to growl loudly, reminding me that I hadn't eaten since lunch yesterday. Collins's mouth quirked up at the corners, a ghost of a smile.

"Hungry?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his tone.

"Starving," I admitted, unable to keep the edge from my voice. I hadn't asked for any of this—the break-in, the attack, being whisked away to an Alpha den in the middle of the night.

Collins nodded, stepping aside to gesture toward the doorway. "Kitchen's downstairs. Theodore made breakfast."

"The tech guy cooks?" I asked, raising an eyebrow as I followed him into the hallway.

"Don't let the glasses fool you. He's the best chef among us." Collins led the way down a wide staircase, the hardwood smooth beneath my socked feet. "Though that's not saying much, considering Reeves once set cereal on fire."

The unexpected glimpse into their pack dynamics caught me off guard. I couldn't quite reconcile the image of these intimidating law enforcement Alphas with the domestic scene Collins was describing.

"He set cereal on fire?" I couldn't help asking. "How is that even possible?"

A genuine smile flickered across Collins's face. "You'd have to ask him. None of us have figured it out yet."

We reached the bottom of the stairs, and Collins guided me through a spacious living room with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked a lush backyard. The house was open and airy, with natural materials and clean lines that created a sense of calm despite its size. It felt lived-in but not cluttered, comfortable without being overly personal.

The kitchen was a chef's dream—all gleaming stainless steel and dark granite, with a massive island in the center where Theodore stood at the stove, expertly flipping something in a pan while Lucas sat at the island, scrolling through a tablet. Reeves was off at the table, reading what looked like a casefile of some kind.

Lucas looked up as we entered, his eyes flickering over me with a quick assessment before returning to his tablet. The bruises from last night's fight were visible along his jawline, a mottled purple against his tanned skin.

"Morning, sleeping beauty," he called, his tone light despite the seriousness of the situation. "Thought you might hibernate through the weekend."

"Sorry to disappoint," I replied dryly, moving cautiously into the unfamiliar space. The kitchen smelled amazing—coffee, bacon, and something sweet that made my stomach growl again, louder this time.

Theodore glanced over his shoulder, offering a small, genuine smile. "Perfect timing. Pancakes are almost ready." He adjusted his glasses with his wrist, hands busy with a spatula and mixing bowl. "Coffee's fresh. Are you hungry?"

"Starving," I admitted, suddenly self-conscious under the gaze of three Alphas. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, acutely aware of my rumpled appearance.

"Sit," Collins instructed, gesturing to an empty stool at the island. "I'll get you coffee."

I slid onto the stool, keeping a careful distance from Lucas, who continued scrolling through his tablet. The domestic normalcy of the scene felt surreal after last night's violence. These men had fought to protect me—had possibly saved my life—and now they were just... making breakfast like it was any ordinary Saturday morning. Like they hadn't just brought a strange Omega into their territory.

"Cream or sugar?" Collins asked, setting a steaming mug in front of me.

"Both," I replied, watching as he doctored my coffee with practiced movements. "Thanks."

I wrapped my hands around the warm mug, drawing comfort from its heat. The normalcy of the gesture—drinking coffee in a kitchen—helped ground me despite the extraordinary circumstances.

Theodore slid a plate in front of me, stacked with golden pancakes and crisp bacon. "Eat," he said simply, his quiet voice carrying an undertone of concern. "You need strength."

"Thank you," I said, genuinely touched by the gesture. I hadn't expected kindness from these men—professionalism, certainly, but not this... care.

I took a bite, surprised by how good it tasted. "This is amazing," I said to Theodore, who acknowledged the compliment with a small smile.

Lucas snorted from his position at the island. "Don't encourage him. His ego barely fits in the kitchen as it is."

I hid my smile behind my coffee mug, watching as Theodore rolled his eyes good-naturedly. The dynamic between these Alphas was nothing like I'd expected. There was the typical Alpha posturing, sure, but underneath it was something else—a comfortable familiarity, a genuine bond.

I ate quietly, savoring each bite while trying to gather my thoughts. The reality of my situation was sinking in with each passing moment—I was in danger, my shop had been attacked, and I was now sitting in an Alpha pack's kitchen eating pancakes like this was all perfectly normal.

"Jamie knows you're safe," Collins said, as if reading my thoughts. "Theodore contacted him this morning. He wanted to come see you, but we thought it best to keep your location limited to those who need to know."

I nodded, swallowing a bite of pancake. "When can I see my shop?"

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