Page 105 of Feeling the Heat: Part One
There’s a soft chuckle on the other end and when he speaks, his voice is lowered. “We’re both totally fine, love.”
“Good.” The panic lessens, and I don’t want to examine why it was almost as intense a worry for Camille as it was for my mate. “Everything, uh, going okay?”
“Yes. Really well. I know you didn’t want a lot of details, but, uh…”
“It’s fine,” I say, and let him feel through the bond that it really is.
Huh. I thought I didn’t want to know anything, but my alpha is suddenly eager for every crumb of information Ambrose is willing to give me. He likes thinking about what they’ve been up to.
God, this is all so strange.
“She fell asleep while I was giving her a massage. She’s completely out, like snoring and drooling, and I don’t feel right leaving without saying anything. But I wanted to check because we didn’t agree ahead of time to me spending the night, and I understand if you’re not ready for that. I’ll wake her up and say goodbye if that’s the case.”
There’s a spike of instinctual possessiveness, but it only lasts for a few seconds. On its heels comes appreciation for how considerate Ambrose is, both to me and Camille. Then thememory of how exhausted Camille looked leaving the office earlier.
Not that I was watching her or anything. I just happened to notice.
“Stay with her,” I say firmly, my alpha coming out in my tone.
Ambrose recognizes it immediately. “Oh. Alright. If you’re sure.”
“Yes. I’ll be okay.” A beat passes and more words spill out of my mouth. “Take care of her.”
Another moment of silence hangs between us as Ambrose processes my words and the emotion that flooded my mind, and therefore the bond, as I spoke them. “I will. I love you.”
“I love you, too. I’ll show you whenever you get home tomorrow. Don’t rush.”
We hang up and I close my eyes for a moment, thoughts racing.
What is going on with me? First the stuff with Jackson, then the strange lack of jealousy and my alpha’s need to make sure Camille is okay. It’s a little terrifying how right it felt to give the order to care for her, and how good it feels to know Ambrose absolutely will. What do I even do with those feelings?
My phone chimes with an incoming text from Jackson.
Jackson: Stop freaking out alone and come downstairs. You can freak out with me and Dolly while we work on our farm.
I groan and shut my eyes, begging him to leave me to wallow on my own.
A flurry of text alerts go off, forcing me to look at them.
Jackson: If you don’t, I’ll do something drastic.
Jackson: I’m serious dude, you’re not dealing with this shit on your own.
Jackson: I’ve got my pickaxe out and I’m standing by the pumpkins.
“Don’t you fucking dare!” I shout, sitting up and racing out of my room.
A loud burst of gleeful laughter echoes up the stairs. And just like that, Jackson’s magic works again. I shove my miasma of emotions and concerns aside and head back down to spend time with my best friend.
34
Blissful warmth encompasses me,a gentle rumble vibrating against my back as I slowly emerge from the best sleep I’ve had in ages. Soft citrus and aromatics suffuse the air, mixing with my coffee scent to make something bright and invigorating, yet comforting. I squeeze my eyes shut and sink back into the relaxing bulk pressed against my back, unwilling to break the spell.
My bladder has other plans, giving an angry twinge as soon as it realizes I’m awake. There’s no arguing with an insistent bladder at my age, no matter how much I don’t want to get up.
Releasing a soft sigh, I scooch away from the alpha at my back, doing my best not to wake him as I carefully slip out of my nest and tiptoe over to the bathroom.
After taking care of business, I do a quick swish with mouthwash and dab on some lip balm as I survey myself in the mirror.
