“Jude texted. She’s already asleep. He put her to bed about an hour ago.”
“Good. Then go home and get some rest yourself. You look dead on your feet.”
“I feel it,” I agree. “I’ll lock up on my way out.”
“Thank you, Amber. Seriously. For checking on the flowers. For everything.”
“Night, Wren.”
I walk back through the darkened café. The silence is peaceful, but my mind is already racing ahead. I push out the front door, the cold night air biting at my cheeks.
I get into the car and sit there for a moment, resting my forehead on the steering wheel. The adrenaline from the shift is fading fast, leaving me with a bone-deep weariness. But it’s a good tired. It’s the tired of a day well spent.
I think about the paycheck I’ll get from Blade & Butter. It won’t be a fortune, but it will be enough.
Enough to cover the debate fees. Enough to buy Maisie a new pair of boots—her old ones are getting tight. Enough to start rebuilding that emergency fund.
For so long, my life felt like a house of cards, one stiff breeze away from collapsing. Every day was a battle against the fear of Luke, the fear of poverty, the fear of failing Maisie.
But tonight, driving through the quiet streets of Fox Hollow, the house of cards feels a little sturdier. I have a job. I have friends who have my back. I have a man who brings me chocolate croissants and fixes glass steamers.
I start the engine and pull away from the curb.
The house is quiet when I step inside, the only sound the low murmur of the television from the living room. The air smells of cinnamon and yeast—the distinct scent of Lorelai’s cookies—mixed with the pine cleaner Norah favors.
I lock the door behind me, leaning my forehead against the cool wood for just a second to gather my thoughts.
Dorian has been at his mom’s for the last few days. Ryker must have already taken Norah up to bed. She’s been exhausted lately, the pregnancy draining her energy faster than she can replenish it.
That leaves Jude.
I walk into the living room, dropping my keys onto the entryway table. Jude is sprawled on the sofa, one arm thrown over his eyes, the other dangling off the edge holding a half-eaten oatmeal raisin cookie.
The TV is playing some nature documentary about jellyfish, the blue light washing over his tired face. He lowers his arm when he hears me come in, sitting up. He looks… heavy. Weighed down.
“Hey,” he says, his voice rough. “You’re late.”
“Long day,” I reply, moving to sit on the armchair opposite him. I kick off my boots, my feet throbbing. “We had a rush. And then I had to check on the flowers at Wren’s.”
Jude nods slowly, his eyes tracking my movements. He takes a bite of his cookie, chewing thoughtfully. “I feel like I haven’t really talked to you in days. You’re always gone when I wake up and asleep when I get home.”
“I’ve been picking up extra shifts at the restaurant.”
“Right. The restaurant.” He sets the cookie down on a napkin. “Is that all it is?”
I stiffen. “What do you mean?”
He sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I’m not stupid, Amber. I can smell it on you. You come home reeking of Alpha pheromones. Specifically, that distinct blend of woodsmoke, sea salt, and sugar. You’re spending all your time with that pack. The butcher, the baker, the… whatever the other one is.”
“Knox is the head chef,” I say, perhaps a bit too defensively. “And yes, I’m working there, Jude. I need the money. The shop is closing in two weeks. You know this.”
“I know you need money. I’ve told you a thousand times you don’t need to scramble for it. I can help.”
“I don’t want your help,” I snap, then immediately regret it. I take a breath, trying to soften my tone. “I need to do this myself.And yes, I’m working there. But is there something else going on? Why are you asking like that?”
Jude leans forward, his elbows on his knees. “Because I’m worried about you. You’re… different. Lighter, maybe. But also more secretive. I know how Alphas are, Amber. Especially a pack of three unmated males. They can be intense. Are you… involved with them?”
I look away, staring at the pattern on the rug. I don’t want to have this conversation.
