Page 68 of Heat Clinic

“Is this thing safe?” Emily leans closer and asks in a low voice.

“It’s existed since nineteen-oh-one when the building was finished,” I say. And then I lean down so my mouth is by her ear. “What if today is the day its chain snaps?”

She narrows her eyes and pokes me in the ribs, and it bloody hurts. “Mean.”

Perhaps I was teasing her a little too much if she’s actually afraid of it. It’s hard to reign in the sarcastic brat side of me that comes so naturally after spending the last two decades with just Marcus. We’re still getting to know one another. It’s going to take some time for everyone to adjust.

“We could take the stairs if you prefer, although I warn you it’s seventeen stories,” I say.

Emily glances at the iron railed stairs at the end of the marble hallway. “Rickety death trap it is.”

“It passed its inspection this spring. If that makes you feel better, miss,” the doorman says.

She smiles at him, then glances at his nametag. “It does. Thank you, Robert. The building is beautiful. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite like it. How long have you worked here?”

He enjoys her attention, his round cheeks pinkening as he adjusts his black cap on his balding head. “Call me Bobbie, miss. I’ve been a doorman here since I was sixteen, and my father before me. Here we are. Let me settle this first, and then I’ll hold the doors for you.”

When the door opens, he loads the cart inside, then holds it for us and selects our floor. It creaks and squeals as it climbs, slower than a modern elevator but a hundred times prettier and authentic to such a grand old building. I’m glad the co-op board opted to repair instead of replacing it.

It stops and opens onto our floor, and Bobbie helps us get the overloaded luggage cart to our door. I pull my keys from my pocket and unlock it and promptly put Sam to work, moving everything into the foyer.

“Oh, wow, this is quite the place,” Sam says once he’s moved the last of it and the doorman leaves us.

“Let me give you a tour,” I say and lead them into the living room, then show them the formal dining room, Marcus’s study, and the library.

Emily runs her hands over the books and walks around the room, and I make a mental note that she loves reading. I know the perfect place to take her on our first outing. They follow me to the kitchen, and I show them which door is the pantry and which is the wine closet.

“Our bedroom is on this floor. The guest rooms are upstairs.” They climb the stairs with me, and we pause in the den for a bit as I point out the laundry room and then finally the guest bedrooms that we’ll need to convert for them.

I lean in the doorway while they inspect the first one. “These rooms don’t get used often, but they should have everything you need for now, and then we can get whatever else you need later. I’m sure Marcus is already planning the new decor, so if you have anything specific in mind, you should mention it sooner rather than later. He has a tendency to run full-steam ahead and assume everyone else is on board.”

Emily’s eyes are wide, her shoulders stiff, while Sam pokes and prods at some knick knacks I’ve never noticed before. The front door slams, and Marcus shouts, asking where we are.

“Upstairs!” I yell back. His loud steps echo on the creaky stairs, and then he comes into view. I go to his side and lean into him, curling my arm around his waist.

“Have you decided which rooms you’d each like?” he asks.

I pat him on the chest. “Let them settle, darling. Let’s go unpack while they discuss it.”

“Right,” he says, his smile falling for a second before he catches it. “We’ll just be downstairs then. Come down when you’re ready. I’ll bring your things up in the meantime while you’re getting sorted.”

We head back downstairs, and I supervise while Marcus divvies up the luggage, putting our bags in our room and bringing theirs upstairs to leave in the den.

“Her scent is stressed,” he says as he drops the last bag by our bed. “She was fine in the car. Did something happen?”

I pause in my unfolding and think. “She was nervous about the elevator—it’s antique and it creaked—but… I think it’s more that she walked into an alpha’s den.”

He sits down hard on the bed and his shoulders slump. “You think I scared her? Was today too much? We should have waited before doing something like that. God, we shouldn’t have pushed her too fast. What if she wants to leave already? We only have three months to court her.”

I put the shirt down and stand between his legs, my hands on his shoulders as he stares up at me, miserable and frightened. “If you couldn’t tell by how wet she was, let me say it. She liked what we did. And like you said, she was fine until we came inside. I think there have been a lot of changes one after another for her, and the reality of walking into an alpha’s den, being in an unfamiliar place surrounded by our scents, is finally hitting her. Give her time. Let her adjust.”

“Right.” He stares straight ahead at my middle and nods, his brow creased. “Of course. We should give her some time and space to realize she’s safe here, even from us. The last thing I want is for her to feel unsafe in our home. I want her to feel like it’s her home too.”

“What?” I cup his face and tilt him so he’s looking at me. “No. We should notgive her space.We should bend her over every piece of furniture all over the apartment and rut her brains out. Sam said she’s overthinking everything. That she doesn’t trust her omega instincts. So we need to short circuit her mind so her hind brain can take over. We have to trust the rest of her will follow.”

“You… want to fuck her into loving us?”

“Well, it worked for me.” He acts like he’d forgotten how disastrously horny we were as young men fucking all summer long, cramming an entire year’s worth of togetherness into two short months.

---