Page 14 of Pumpkin Patch Pack
Pride, maybe. Or hope.
5
Liam
Ihear her soft footsteps in the hallway before she even reaches the kitchen.
I keep my eyes fixed on my plate, pushing the pasta around with my fork as if they’re the most fascinating things I’ve ever seen.
Once she steps into the kitchen, I immediately catch Emma’s scent—faint but unmistakable even through whatever blockers she’s using. She moves quickly, almost silently, like she’s trying not to be noticed. There’s a wall separating the kitchen and the dining room, but I can track her movements as she makes a sandwich from the ingredients Theo left out.
Rowan and Theo continue their conversation about the upcoming weekend’s corporate event, but I know they’re both as aware of her presence as I am. We’re all listening to the rustle of paper as she wraps her sandwich, the soft padding of her feet as she retreats.
The front door opens, then closes with a gentle click.
Theo waits exactly three seconds before speaking. “She’s settling in well, I think. Has a real eye for photography. Did you see that Instagram post she made today?”
“Mmm,” Rowan nods, taking a sip of his beer. “She’s good at her job. Professional.” He sets his bottle down, eyes narrowing slightly. “But she seems more than a little nervous, like maybe she is hiding something.”
“Hiding?” Theo asks, raising an eyebrow.
Rowan’s fork pauses halfway to his mouth. “I think she might be wearing scent blockers. There’s something underneath her scent. It’s faint but sweet, but with a bite, like warm apple pie.”
I keep my expression neutral, though my stomach tightens. He’s caught hints, but they don’t know what I know. They haven’t smelled her, really smelled her, like I have.
“She’s an omega,” I confirm quietly, speaking for the first time since we sat down to eat. Both their heads swivel toward me.
“You sure?” Rowan asks.
I nod once, focusing on cutting a piece of bread with unnecessary precision. “Yesterday. When Maple stole her…” I pause, clearing my throat, “personal item.” The memory of holding that purple silicone floods back. Her scent had been all over it—pure, unfiltered. “No beta smells like that,” I finish, looking back at my plate.
Theo lets out a low whistle. “Well, that explains why she’s so jumpy. Unbonded omega, new town, two unmated alphas, and a badass beta for employers. No wonder she looks like she’s ready to bolt every time someone moves too fast.”
“We’ll need to be careful,” Rowan says, his protective instincts evident in his tone. “Clearly, she doesn’t want anyone to know. We give her space. Make sure she feels safe.”
“Agreed,” Theo nods. “No sudden movements, no alpha posturing.”
They both look at me, and I frown. “What?”
“You’re the most intimidating of the three of us,” Theo says bluntly. “All silent and broody. Just, try not to loom.”
“I don’t loom,” I mutter, stabbing a noodle with a little more force than necessary.
“You absolutely loom,” Theo counters. “You’ve got the whole tall, dark, and foreboding thing going on. Which works for you, don’t get me wrong, but might not be what a nervous omega needs right now.”
I grunt noncommittally.
If they only knew.
If they could smell what I smelled yesterday—the pure, undiluted scent of her that had hit me—sweet apples, warm spices, and buttery crust. The most exquisite thing I’d ever encountered—it cut through every defense I’d built.
Fuck. Like walking into a wall of pure want.
My body went from zero to claiming mode so fast that I nearly embarrassed myself. My cock had hardened within seconds, straining against my jeans as if trying to break free. It had taken every ounce of self-control not to claim what every cell in my body recognized as mine. The urge to press her against the nearest surface, to taste her, to bury myself inside her, and lock us together with my knot had been overwhelming.
Thank god for Maple.
The little troublemaker had chosen that moment to dart away, giving me the excuse I needed to chase after her. The run had cleared my head somewhat, cool air filling my lungs, distance diluting her scent. Not that running with a raging hard-onhad been comfortable—each step a reminder of what I’d just discovered.
