Page 16 of Holly Jolly Heat
THREE
Lucas
I'd been having the worst three days of my life.
Well, technically, I'd been having the worst three days since the best moment of my life, which was seeing my omega for the first time at Pike Place Market, feeling the mate bond snap into place like coming home, and knowing with absolute certainty that I'd found what had been missing from our pack.
The worst part came immediately after, when she'd looked at me with absolute terror and run.
"Lucas, you're spiraling again," Ro said from the passenger seat of the Cozy Caravan. "I can hear you thinking from here."
"I'm not spiraling. I'm processing."
"You've been processing the same thing for seventy-two hours. That's spiraling."
From the back, Dex made a sound that might have been agreement. He was doing security checks on his tablet, monitoring our route, checking traffic patterns, probably scanning for potential threats even though we were driving to a small Oregon town to meet our omega's family, not infiltrating an enemy compound.
Old habits died hard with Dex.
"I'm just saying," I continued, "what if she changed her mind? What if inviting us was a momentary impulse and now she regrets it? What if we show up and she runs again?"
"Then we'll handle it," Ro said calmly. "Like we discussed."
"Right. The plan. Respectful boundaries, no pressure, prove we can separate professional and personal." I gripped the steering wheel tighter. "But what if the plan isn't enough?"
"Lucas." Dex's voice from the back was firm but gentle. "Breathe. You're going to give yourself an anxiety attack before we even get there."
He wasn't wrong. My alpha was a mess, caught between the euphoria of knowing our omega existed and was real and perfect, and the terror that we'd somehow screw this up and lose her before we'd even had a chance.
The three days since Pike Place Market had been torture.
That first day, I'd had a video call with Michelle, professional, cordial, discussing content strategy like I hadn't just met my fated mate an hour earlier. She'd looked stressed and beautiful and so carefully controlled that it had physically hurt to maintain the professional distance she clearly needed.
After the call, I'd wanted to immediately drive to wherever she was and fix everything.
Ro had literally stood between me and the door.
"Give her space," he'd said. "She needs to process. We all do."
So we'd processed. We'd talked through scenarios and approaches and boundaries. We'd researched pack dynamics with professional clients (turns out there wasn't much precedent since most people kept those worlds completely separate). We'd planned how to court her properly while respecting her very valid concerns about professional ethics.
And we'd sent her gifts.
That had been Dex's idea, actually. "Traditional courting gifts," he'd said. "Show her we've been paying attention. That we see her as more than just an omega or a manager."
So I'd sent her favorite tea and a desk plant named George (because she needed more life in her workspace and I'd needed to make her smile). Ro had sent organizational tools because he understood her need for control. Dex had sent practical things because he was Dex and showing care through logistics was basically his love language.
And yesterday, she'd texted.
I'm not running anymore.
Those four words had made my heart literally skip a beat.
We should talk. All of us.
We'd been packed and ready to go within an hour.
"Turn coming up," Ro said, checking the GPS. "Two miles to Cedar Falls."
