Page 44 of Stuck with my Pack
I nod, my heart beating a little faster. “Yeah. I think it’ll be good for all of us.”
His gaze searches mine, and I hold my breath under the weight of his scrutiny. Finally, he nods, his expression softening. “All right. I’ll be there.”
Relief washes over me, and I flash him a huge smile as I push open the door and step into the cold. The snow has picked up, swirling gently around me as I walk toward the inn. Something makes me glance back, and I catch Ethan watching me through the windshield, his eyes dark and unreadable.
The truck pulls away, the taillights glowing red against the snowy landscape, and I stand there for a moment, the cold forgotten. My emotions are a tangled mess—excitement, nerves, and something deeper I can’t quite name.
19
TYLER
The rhythmicthwackof the knife meeting the cutting board is oddly soothing as I chop the vegetables. The kitchen smells of simmering tomatoes, garlic, and herbs—Sophie’s doing.
She stands beside me at the stove, her delicate hands stirring a pot of sauce, her humming a soft counterpoint to the bubbling sounds around us. There’s something so domestic about this moment, so grounding, that it makes me feel…at ease. And that’s rare for me.
I glance at her out of the corner of my eye. Her hair is tucked behind one ear, and a small smile plays on her lips as she focuses on the pot. The glow from the overhead light casts a warm halo around her, making her look almost ethereal.
Mine,my Alpha murmurs, restless beneath my skin. It’s a ridiculous thought. She isn’t mine. Not yet, anyway.
The sound of a knock at the door pulls me from my reverie. Sophie wipes her hands on a dishtowel and heads for the door. I watch her go, the gentle sway of her hips drawing my eyes like a magnet.
When the door opens, Ethan steps inside, his broad frame filling the entryway. His face is as stoic as ever, but there’s aflicker of something softer in his expression as his eyes land on Sophie.
“Smells good in here,” he says, his voice low.
Before Sophie can respond, Brodie appears behind him, a lopsided grin on his face. “You didn’t think I’d miss this, did you?” he teases, stepping inside like he owns the place.
Sophie laughs, the sound warm and welcoming. “Come in. Make yourselves comfortable. Dinner’s almost ready.”
I lean back against the counter, watching the dynamic unfold. Ethan moves into the living room, his presence still commanding even when he’s not speaking. Brodie follows, his easy charm lighting up the space like he belongs there.
The way they settle in so naturally like they’re already part of her world…it’s both comforting and unsettling.
When Sophie returns to the kitchen, I focus on the task at hand, trying not to let my thoughts spiral. The comfort of working beside her eases the tension in my chest.
“Favorite childhood meal?” Sophie asks casually, her voice cutting through the quiet.
I chuckle, shaking my head. “Didn’t really have much of that growing up.”
Her curiosity piqued, she tilts her head, her eyes soft but probing. “Why not? You seem like the kind of guy who’d appreciate good food.”
I hesitate, the knife pausing mid-chop. I don’t like talking about my past—never have. But something about Sophie makes me want to. “Let’s just say my mom wasn’t much of a cook, and my dad…not a chance he did anything more than toss a ramen pack at me.”
Her hand stills on the spoon, and she turns to face me fully. “Tyler…”
I shrug, trying to keep my tone light. “It’s fine. I got through it.”
But Sophie doesn’t let it go. She steps closer, her gaze locking onto mine. “No, it’s not okay.”
I force a smile, trying to shake off the weight of the moment. “It’s the past. Besides, I’m here now. And…I feel like I actually belong somewhere.”
Her fingers press into my arm, grounding me in a way I didn’t know I needed. “You belong here, Tyler. With me. With us.”
Her words settle over me like a warm blanket, and I feel my chest tighten in a way that’s both comforting and terrifying. She means it—I can see it in her eyes.
Before I can respond, Brodie’s voice cuts through the moment. “Hope you didn’t ruin the sauce, Hawk,” he teases, leaning against the doorframe with that damn grin of his.
I smirk, shaking my head. “Not a chance. I know my way around a kitchen.”
