Page 34 of Stuck with my Pack
I exhale sharply, gripping the wrench so tight my knuckles go white. I need to get my head on straight. Focus. But then I hear her laugh.
It’s soft, unguarded, and way too fucking rare.
It spills through the hallway, curling around me like a goddamn siren call. My entire body tenses. I glance toward the doorway just in time to catch a glimpse of her—gesturing wildly with a piece of fabric in her hands, talking a mile a minute.
Brodie sits on the arm of the sofa, watching her, occasionally pulling her in for a kiss, like they are the only people in the world.
And then—she stumbles, tripping over the carpet.
My heart slams against my ribs, and before I can even think, Brodie’s already there, catching her effortlessly like heknewshe was going to fall before she did. His hands settle on her waist, steadying her, and she tilts her head back, laughing in that soft, breathless way that sends heat straight to my cock.
Her scent spikes—something sweet, somethingwanting—and I swear to fucking God, I feel it in my teeth.
A growl rumbles low in my chest before I can stop it.
Brodie doesn’t even look my way, but I know he feels it.
I tear my gaze away, forcing myself to focus on the light fixture, on the wrench, onanythingthat isn’t the way Sophie’s fingers linger on Brodie’s forearm as she rights herself. I clench my jaw so hard it aches.
This isn’t jealousy. It’s deeper than that, darker. It’s the pull of the pack, of the bond forming whether we have acknowledged it or not.
And Sophie?
She has no fucking clue what she’s doing to us.
She moves through this house, through our lives, lighting fires she doesn’t even realize she’s started. And every day, every second, I get closer to losing whatever grip I have left on my self-control.
Because I know, deep down in my bones—she’s not just an Omega in need of an Alpha.
She’sourOmega.
And it’s only a matter of time before she figures it out, too.
The sound of Sophie’s footsteps retreating upstairs pulls me out of my thoughts. I climb down the ladder, brushing dust off my hands. Then the door bangs open, and Sophie bursts into the room like a hurricane. She’s clutching a piece of paper in her hand, her face pale but her eyes blazing with anger.
“Look at this,” she snaps, holding the letter out. “Can you believe this?”
Brodie steps into the room behind her, his expression instantly sharpening as he takes in her tone. “What’s going on?” he asks, his voice calm, measured.
Sophie waves the letter in the air like it’s personally offended her. “The county sent this,” she says, her voice tight. “They’re threatening to condemn the inn if we don’t address these ‘structural and safety issues’ immediately.”
I take the letter from her, scanning the contents. My stomach sinks as I read the list of violations, each one more daunting than the last.
The timeline for the repairs is laughably short, and the resources we’d need? We’re nowhere close to having them.
“They can’t be serious,” I mutter, looking up at her. But the fire in her eyes tells me they are, and they’ve managed to hit her exactly where it hurts.
“Half this stuff is just ridiculous,” I say firmly, stepping closer to her. I can smell the bitter tinge to her scent. “We’ve got this Soph.”
Her hands tremble slightly as she crosses her arms, gripping the letter like it’s the only thing keeping her steady.
“It’s just one thing after another,” she says, her voice cracking. “Every time I think we’re making progress, something else falls apart.”
“You can't give up. We're not giving up,” Brodie says, his tone leaving no room for argument. “It’s not happening.” He pulls her into his arms.
His certainty is grounding, but the deadline looms large in my mind. “All right,” I say, running a hand through my hair. “We need a plan. Brodie, you good to assess the structural stuff? I’ll tackle the safety violations. We’ll break this down into pieces and hit the most urgent ones first.”
“It's weird, though. Why now? Your Aunt ran this place for years without anybody sniffing around. Someone must have complained, but who?”
