Page 6 of Fragile Heart

I pour another pancake into the pan, making sure to not meet his gaze. The last thing we need right now is a full-on brawl, and even if the blonde woman from last night was nothing more than a one-time hookup, it doesn’t stop the instinctive rage at having my territory and decisions questioned.

“It was my night off.” It’s not really an explanation. Ethan grunts. I blow out a breath, trying to find some semblance of calm, and add another pancake to the pan.

“And?” he asks when I don’t offer anything else.

“And I had a date,” I say, giving up and looking toward him. His scowl is firmly in place, his eyes an interesting mix of angry and betrayed. “I didn’t propose to her. I bought her dinner and fucked her in my truck. I’m not expecting to have a follow-up. Stop freaking out.”

He ticks up one eyebrow.

“You know I’m not ready,” he says.

No shit. You weren’t ready for Kayla, either, fucker.

I swallow down the urge to say just that, but his eyes darken, and I know it must be written all over my face. The downside of raising a kid with your best friend—a best friend you once shared a bonded Omega with—is that they get really damn good at reading you, even when you’d rather they didn’t.

I flip the first round of pancakes onto a plate before turning to grab Camden’s plastic dishes and getting his breakfast ready. Ethan steps up beside me, seamlessly taking over without putting down his coffee. Grabbing the spatula, I focus on pouring the next round of pancakes.

“She was different,” he says after an extended silence.

I don’t bother to comment on whether Kayla was different. It won’t diminish the urge for change that’s starting to claw its way under my skin. I recognize it from the last time I felt it, over eight years ago: it’s the need to find an Omega and knot her until we’re so connected I can smell her in my dreams.

Footsteps patter down the hallway, breaking me out of the thought before it can manage to leave me with an annoying hard-on. I twist away from the stove just in time to see Camden come rushing into the room. He scans the living room before focusing on the kitchen. His eyes land on Ethan first, and he crosses the room, slamming into his legs before Ethan can put down the mug of coffee.

“Good morning, kid,” he says, some of the cynicism melting away from his voice.

“Morning,” he says, his voice muffled against Ethan’s jeans. “Riding today?”

Ethan nods. “Beau and I are moving cows.”

Camden grins, showing off his dimples. Damn, he looks like Kayla when he smiles like that. My chest tightens at the thought.

I’d thought the grief would get more manageable with time. Sure, I don’t think about them every single waking moment anymore. But when the moments come? They seem to cut deeper than anything I’ve ever experienced.

Making breakfast doesn’t erase the pain, but it’s certainly something I know how to do, something I’mgoodat doing. Knowing I’m caring for and protecting my Omega’s son settles the grief lodged so deep I feel it in my bones. Even after four years—nearly—of her being gone.

So, pancakes.

I flip the second batch onto the plate and pour the final group.

“Go with you, Daddy,” Camden says, suddenly serious. I frown. It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve taken him. Except it’s always been us. Mostly me, to be honest. I saddle up Maple because he can handle the extra weight, and Cam rides double with me.

Ethan shakes his head and herds Camden to the table, grabbing the plate of food on his way out of the kitchen. “You can’t this time. Papa has to go to a fire.”

He sighs but nods. “Nana?”

“Yeah.” Ethan kisses his temple as he helps him into his booster seat, setting the plate full of food in front of him. “She said she has flowers to plant today. You want to help her with that?”

Camden smiles again, appeased by the available option, and then attacks his breakfast with a ferocity that has me mildly concerned for when he becomes a teenager. I’ll have to ask Mom how she managed all three of us during those years.

As soon as the final pancakes are finished, I dump them onto the plate and clean up. I kiss Camden on my way toward my room, running my hand through his blond hair. He glances up at me, his eyebrows furrowed enough there’s the little line between them, exactly how Brandon would get it.

“Love you, Papa,” he says around the pancake, garbling the words.

I grin and hug him, wrapping my arms around him. “I’ll see you soon, all right? You have a good time with Nana today and be a big helper with Daddy during the week.”

Camden nods without pulling away from me, his cheek brushing my shirt.

I kiss his temple again as I pull away.

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