Page 114 of Knot in Bloom
“Take that away,” I beg, covering my nose. “The smell?—”
He immediately dumps the coffee and moves upwind, concern radiating from his scent. “Better?”
“Much.” I straighten slowly, trying to regain some dignity. “Sorry. Pregnancy hormones are apparently not compatible with festival crowds.”
Within minutes, both Reid and Caleb appear at my booth with the kind of focused concern that would be overwhelming if I weren’t feeling so terrible.
“Why didn’t you tell us you were feeling this sick?” Reid asks, immediately checking my forehead for fever.
“Because it just started this morning,” I say, leaning into Caleb’s solid warmth when he settles beside me. “And because we have customers?—”
“Fuck the customers,” Caleb says bluntly. “You’re pregnant and sick. That takes priority.”
His alpha authority makes something settle in my chest. Not the independence I’ve been clinging to, but the relief of letting someone else take charge when I’m not capable.
“I brought crackers and ginger ale,” Levi says, producing supplies from somewhere. “And called Dr. Barker to confirm this level of nausea is normal.”
“You called my doctor?” I ask, touched by his thoroughness.
“Of course I did. You’re carrying our baby.” The possessive pride in his voice makes my heart skip. “I’m not taking chances with either of you.”
The next few hours pass in a haze of managed nausea and overwhelming pack protectiveness. They rotate duties—Reid handling customers while Levi feeds me crackers and Caleb rearranges our entire booth to minimize my exposure to triggering scents.
“There are my girls!” Maeve Bennett’s voice cuts through the festival noise as she approaches our booth with a determined stride, carrying a wicker basket that smells like heaven. “Both of my pregnant omegas in one place. This is exactly what I needed to see.”
“Maeve,” I say weakly, though her motherly presence is exactly what I need right now.
She immediately sets down her basket and moves to feel my forehead with practiced hands. “You look peaked, sweetheart. When did you last eat something that stayed down?”
“About two hours ago,” I admit. “But the crackers are helping.”
“Crackers,” she snorts dismissively. “You need proper nutrition. I brought ginger cookies—my grandmother’s recipe, settled many a queasy stomach in this family.” She turns to examine Lila with the same critical eye. “And you, young lady, are you taking your vitamins? Getting enough rest? You’re carrying precious cargo.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Lila says with obvious affection. “Dean makes sure I eat and sleep.”
“Good boy. Knew he had sense.” Maeve turns back to me, pulling items from her basket. “Now, Sadie, I made you some peppermint tea blend—it’ll help with the nausea. And there’s bone broth with ginger that you can sip when nothing else appeals. These pregnancies are giving me something to fuss about properly.”
Through our pack bond, I feel my alphas’ amusement and affection at Maeve’s motherly takeover. She’s become the unofficial grandmother to every pack in town, and seeing her this excited about our babies makes my heart warm.
“Both my grand-nieces or grand-nephews,” she continues, one hand on my shoulder, one on Lila’s. “Lord knows this town needed more babies. Between Julian’s spreadsheets and your boys’ protectiveness, these children are gonna be the most prepared and loved babies in Montana.”
“Thank you, Maeve,” I say, genuinely touched by her care. “I don’t know what any of us would do without you.”
“Starve, probably,” she says briskly. “Now, you eat one of these cookies and I’ll check back in an hour. Both of you girls need to come by the bakery this week—I want to show you the new recipes I’m testing for baby-friendly finger foods. Never too early to start planning proper nutrition.”
As she bustles away to continue her festival rounds, River Brooks appears with his usual golden-retriever enthusiasm,pulling Levi into a quick hug before turning to beam at me. “Heard the news—congratulations! This is so exciting.”
“Thanks,” I manage, grateful when he doesn’t comment on my obvious green tinge.
After chatting for a few minutes about the baby, River heads off to check out other booths, and I’m settling back into my chair when a young woman with short dark hair approaches.
“Sadie Quinn,” she says with a grin. “I’m Bea Wilson—you used to babysit me when I was about eleven.”
“Bea!” I say immediately, memories flooding back. “Look at you, all grown up. I heard you were back from college.”
“Yeah, trying to figure out what’s next.” She glances around the festival, then back at me. “Heard about your pack—congratulations on the baby. That’s really exciting.”
“Thanks. Are you staying in town?”
