"But you weren't entirely lying," I finished for him. "Because we are interested."
"I am," Garrett said quietly. "I don't know about the rest of you."
"I'm intrigued," I admitted. "Anyone who can stand their ground against an Alpha trying to buy them groceries has my respect. Plus, she's clearly talented—that garden you've been raving about is real, and if her baking is half as good as you claim, she's got skills."
"It's that good," Garrett confirmed. "Better, even."
Micah was quiet, his green eyes calculating in that way that meant he was processing multiple angles. "I haven't met her yet," he said finally. "But based on what you've both said, and the scene at the market... she sounds like someone who'd fit. Someone who values independence, who's built something on her own, who doesn't need us but might choose us anyway."
"If she chooses us at all," Oliver added. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Right now, we're just neighbors. Neighbors who are interested in getting to know her better."
"Neighbors who apparently can't stop running into her in town," Micah said with his usual smirk returning.
"I ran into her once," I protested. "Literally. It was an accident."
"Sure it was." He dodged my swat easily, his runner's reflexes making him quick despite his leaner build. "And I'm sure Garrett's visit tomorrow is purely work related."
"It is," Garrett insisted, but his ears were red. "She's going to help me evaluate the apple trees. Professional consultation."
"Right. Professional." Micah grinned. "Just like Levi's sourdough conversation was purely educational."
"It was educational. I learned a lot." I pointed my knife at him. "And you're going to benefit from that knowledge when I actually manage to make edible bread."
"I'll believe it when I see it." Micah grabbed his water bottle from the counter. "I'm going for a run before dinner. Someone has to maintain peak physical condition in this pack."
"In the rain?" Oliver asked, a frown on his face.
"Best time for it. Fewer people, better focus." Micah headed for the stairs, probably to change into his running gear. "Don't wait on me for dinner."
After he disappeared upstairs, Garrett shook his head. "He acts like he doesn't care about anything, but he's already analyzing her like she's a puzzle to solve."
"That's just how Micah works," Oliver said. "He'll run a dozen scenarios in his head, calculate risks and benefits, and then make a decision. Give him time."
"We should all take time," I said, starting to heat oil in the wok. "Daphne needs space to figure out what she wants. We need space to figure out if this is actually viable or just wishful thinking."
"It's not wishful thinking," Garrett said quietly. "At least not for me. There's something about her, something that just... fits. I felt it the first time I saw her in her garden."
Oliver studied him for a long moment. "You're serious about this."
"I am." Garrett met his eyes steadily. "But I know we move as a pack. If the rest of you aren't interested, I'll respect that. I won't pursue her alone."
That was the thing about our pack—we'd formed it by choice, bound together by friendship and mutual respect rather than blood or obligation. When we'd decided to try this experiment, to see if four Alphas could build a life together, we'd agreed on certain rules. One of them was that major decisions—like bringing someone new into the pack—required unanimous agreement.
"I'm interested," I said again. "But cautiously. She's got walls for a reason, and I'm not interested in pushing past them just because we want something."
"Agreed," Oliver said. "We get to know her as a person first, let her get to know us. If something develops naturally, great. If not, we at least gain a good neighbor."
"And if she wants nothing to do with us?" I asked, titling my head to the side in curiosity at what his answer would be. He was the most interested right now.
"Then we respect that," Garrett said immediately. "Even if it kills me."
The fierce protectiveness in his voice made me smile. Garrett had always been the steadiest of us, the most patient. But when he cared about something—or someone—he cared completely.
I tossed vegetables into the hot wok, the sizzle filling the kitchen. "Tomorrow should be interesting."
"It will be," Garrett agreed, moving to help by starting the rice. "I'm trying not to overthink it."
"You're definitely overthinking it," Oliver said with rare amusement. "You've been talking about those apple trees since you saw her on Wednesday. ."
