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Watching her wolf down the pancakes, eggs, and bacon I’d made alongside Rhett was good for my soul. While I didn’t have the alpha-driven biological need to make sure she was taken care of, I was still a man who wanted to make sure his woman was safe and cared for.
Hazel licked the syrup off the tines of her fork, having no clue how hard that little pink tongue made my dick.
“So good,” she groaned with an appreciative smile. “Thanks, Jude.”
I had to clear my throat before I could speak. “Anytime, pretty girl.” I reached across the kitchen island to grab her plate.
Hazel held it back with a scowl. “I can clean up.”
“No way,” I argued, still holding out my hand as I wiggled my fingers in a ‘give it here’ motion.
She huffed and passed me the dish. “Fine. But only because I don’t know my way around this kitchen.”
“Yet,” I added, rinsing the plate and utensils. I put them into the dishwasher, where they joined the stuff we’d used to make breakfast. Straightening, I looked at her. “So, any idea what you want to do today?”
She exhaled, looking uncertain. “I have no idea. I know I should do something, but it all just sounds so overwhelming.”
I nodded. “Part of that is being an omega.”
She shot me a puzzled look.
“Omegas aren’t big on making decisions,” I clarified, remembering there was a lot about her designation she probably didn’t realize. Betas weren’t taught much about alpha and omega designations in school, but after joining a pack, I’d read a few books on pack hierarchy and the differences between designations to understand how to navigate living with three alphas.
She snorted. “Explains why Calla always had me pick the movie or where we went to grab food. Sometimes I even picked what she was eating.” Her mouth turned down. “I guess that’s one more thing I’ll have to get used to. Letting everyone else make decisions for me.”
I leaned forward on the counter. “It’s not like you’ll have no say or have to let everyone pick for you. The level of that depends on you. Some omegas give up total control to their alpha or pack. Others maintain a lot of independence. Even have a career. You decide how this goes.”
Hazel frowned, her brows pulling together. “I have no idea what I want.” She ended the statement with a soft whimper that tugged at my heartstrings.
I didn’t have to be an alpha to want to comfort this sweet omega. “Okay, how about if we move this conversation to the family room, somewhere more comfortable,” I suggested.
Relief crossed her features and she nodded, slipping off the stool.
I came around the island and held out a hand for her, smiling when she didn’t hesitate to slip her hand into mine.
Walking down the hallway from the kitchen to the sunken-in family room, I tried to see the space as Hazel was. Taking it all in for the first time.
Did she like the house? Was it too big? Too small? Too rustic?
Shit, omegas loved fancy stuff, right? An oversized cabin in the woods suited four guys just fine, but would it be enough for Hazel? We’d opted for a lot of space and upgraded shit because Rhett and Crew’s asses were used to finer stuff, but was it enough for our omega?
I’d seen the house Crew’s parents had. It was a sprawling mansion with a manicured lawn and artfully crafted shrubbery. The weather was sunny and warm where he’d grown up. Where Hazel had grown up. Did she even like snow? Because it snowed by the foot in Montana. It was the end of March now, so we weren’t expecting much more snow, but if we were still here when winter was in full force?—
I hadn’t realized I’d stopped in the archway of the family room until Hazel squeezed my hand.
“Are you okay?” Her green and gold eyes were soft with concern.
I swallowed thickly. “Just wondering what you thought of the house.”
She blinked once. “It’s beautiful.”
I rubbed the back of my neck, my skin feeling too tight. “But is it enough? Could you be happy here? I mean, we can redecorate or you can?—”
“Whoa.” Eyes wide, she stepped away from me. “I don’t want to redecorate the whole house. That’s nuts. You just met me. Maybe I want to cover every surface in glitter and little flying cherubs.”
Tossing back my head, I laughed. “Not to push the stereotypes here, babe, but we’re guys. We don’t really give a shit about decorations. Well, except Rhett, but he’s picky about everything. Mama Dutton actually decorated a lot of this place.”
She made a soft humming sound. “I can see that. Elizabeth has great style.”
