Page 61 of Forget

Struggling slightly to squeeze out, I chuckle to myself about how ridiculous I must look, barely able to see around the bundle of bedding so I can walk.

Unlocking my door and yanking it open, I hear Dad say, “I’m right here, Aisling. I brought a maid to grab that.”

“Dad, I’d rather do this myself,” I sigh, turning sideways so I can see him. There’s a maid wearing gloves and an amused look reaching for the dirty laundry. She’s a beta, the same one who Dad usually brings up to catch me.

Sometimes he succeeds, others he finds me in the laundry room and chases me out with the promise of food. Speaking of which, my stomach growls loudly, making Dad chuckle under his breath

“Gotcha,” he says. “Hand over the bedding, and I’ll cook for you?”

“You cook?” I ask, surprised. The maid tugs away the bundle in my arms, and I let her. She proudly walks off with the prize of stinky laundry, making me smirk.

“I can,” he admits. “Chef does such a wonderful job, I don’t do it as often anymore. Grab your phone, Aisling. You’re going to need to return some calls.”

“Yes, I saw the notifications,” I murmur, turning around to grab it from my nest. I inhale deeply, as if I’m an addict looking for her next hit, whimpering as I perfume.

God, this is embarrassing. Thank goodness for my panties, nothing is getting past them. Being an omega is messy enough as it is, I can’t handle being called out by my body on top of it.

Hurrying out, I meet my dad at the doorway to my room.

“There’s so many missed calls and texts,” I tell him as we begin walking.

“I know. I did call Omega’s Haven to tell them that you weren’t feeling well, but I don’t know that they believed me,” he admits.

“You’re my father, why would you lie?” I ask as we jog down the stairs. I’m so fucking hungry, I don’t care what he makes as long as it’s food and edible.

“I have a tiny bit of a reputation,” Dad grumbles. “Even people without any mafia affiliation know who I am.”

“Does your reputation include refusing to let your daughter go to work at her organization?” I ask, perplexed by this. I remember the way Domh asked if Dad was forcing me to date, and realize he may be right.

My father is really fucking scary to the outside world.

“It could,” he says with a shrug and a smirk. “How do strawberries and cream pancakes sound?”

“Amazing,” I say. “Yes, please.”

“Take care of work, and I’ll make you a very late breakfast,” he rumbles as we walk into the empty kitchen.

“There’s no one here,” I say in awe, climbing into a chat stool. This kitchen usually is busy, between Chef and an assistant or two.

“I told him to take the week off,” he says. “Now get to work.”

Nodding, I start to fire off texts, answering them in order to the house mom who runs the shelter, Dr. Alys, Hollis, and Wren.I explain that I had my heat and it was a very intense one, so I was unable to text earlier.

I also call back those who left messages, until Dad is serving me pancakes and it’s time to take a break.

“I’m already exhausted,” I whine, cutting off a bite of my breakfast and placing it in my mouth. My eyes shutter closed as the flavors hit my tongue, and I nod appreciatively. “Wow, this is so good.”

Shrugging as if it’s no big deal, he digs into his food.

“Does anyone need you now that you’ve let them know you’re alive?” he asks, amused.

“No, they took care of everything,” I say. “I was also told not to come back until tomorrow, so my schedule is clear.”

“The snow plow came through and cleared the roads, want to go on an adventure?” Dad asks.

Intrigued, I nod. “I’m up for it. What should I wear?” I ask.

“Very warm clothing. I think there’s long johns and snow clothes in your closet,” he says. “Be ready in twenty minutes?”

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