Page 32 of The Flavor of Us

“She deserves everything,” she continues, her fingers curling around the edge of the counter. “Every bit of love and care and attention. And I…”

I stop a few feet from her, leaning one hip against the counter as I cross my arms over my chest. “Why can’t you have both?”

She doesn’t answer right away and I can see the war playing out on her face—the hesitation, the longing, the stubbornness that’s kept her walls up for so long. I push away fromthe counter, taking a slow step toward her, my movements deliberate.

“You deserve everything too, Carleen,” I say softly, my voice dipping low, rough around the edges. My purr is just beneath the surface but I hold it back, unsure of how Carleen would take it in this moment.

Her eyes snap open, wide and searching. Both of us are caught in this electric pull—this undeniablethingvibrating in the air between us.

“Can I kiss you?” I ask, my voice barely more than a whisper.

Her lips part slightly, her breath hitching again as she stares at me. She doesn’t move at first, doesn’t breathe. And then, slowly—so slowly—she nods.

I don’t waste a second.

My hands come up to cup her face, my thumbs brushing gently along her cheekbones as I tilt her head up. Her skin is warm beneath my palms, her scent overwhelming as I lean down and press my lips to hers.

It’s not a soft kiss. It’s deep and consuming, a tangle of breath and heat and something sharp and needy. Her lips are soft, yielding under mine, and I swear she tastes better than the dessert we’ve been perfecting all morning. But then, just for a split second, I feel it—the faintest stiffening in her shoulders, the slightest tension in her spine.

I pull back immediately, my hands lingering on her cheeks as I search her face. Her brown eyes are wide, her lips slightly swollen, her breathing uneven. I step back, letting my hands drop away as I give her space. “Carleen…” I start, my voice rough with restraint.

The last thing I want is to make her feel trapped. I lean casually against the counter, crossing my arms over my chest to make myself look a little less…big. Less imposing. She glances atme briefly, her brown eyes flicking up and then away again, like she’s trying to pull herself back together.

I offer her a small smile—soft, easy, something meant toreassure. “Carleen,” I start, keeping my voice low and steady, “I want you to know that I understand. You and Tati are different people. How you respond to me, to Ashton, tothis—it’s going to be different. And that’s okay.”

Her shoulders drop slightly, her hands stilling as she takes a slow breath.

I press on, my tone firm but gentle. “But what I need you to know—what I need you to believe—is that I will never push farther than you’re comfortable with. Not now, not ever.”

Carleen’s gaze finally meets mine, something vulnerable and raw flashing in her brown eyes. Relief, maybe. Or gratitude.

“Thank you,” she says softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

I nod, holding her gaze. “I don’t know who put that fear in your eyes, who made you doubt that your ‘no’ would ever matter, but I swear to you—I will never disregard it. If you say stop, I stop. No questions, no arguments, no hesitation. But,” I continue, “I need something from you too. If one of us—me, Ashton, even Tati—ever crosses a line, if something feels wrong or too much, I need you to speak up. I need you to tell me. Can you do that?”

Carleen nods slowly, her brow creasing slightly. “Yeah… yeah, I think I can.”

“A simple word works,” I say, tilting my head slightly. “Something short, something easy. Likered.”

Her lips part slightly, her head tilting as she processes that. “A safe word?” she asks, her voice laced with curiosity.

“Exactly. A safe word. It’s about trust, Carleen. If this trial—ifwe—are going to work, it needs to be built on trust from the ground up. And that means knowing when to stop, knowing when to back off, and knowing when to listen.”

“Okay. Yeah. I can do that.” She shoots me a warm smile before pointing to the mess that is her kitchen. I know she’s deflecting but I don’t mention it, knowing that we all need a bit of time to process this. “We should probably finish cooking before those two tornadoes come back and devour everything in sight.”

I chuckle, pushing off the counter and moving back to the station where Ashton and I had been working earlier. “You’re not wrong,” I say, picking up a spoon and giving the dessert mixture one final stir.

We settle into an easy rhythm, something more comfortable than this morning. Carleen is no longer distracted and I feel a weight off my shoulders, seeing a future with the two women we’ve just met. The best part is seeing Carleen a bit more relaxed in this moment. There’s something softer about her now, more vulnerable.

Even as untraditional as Ashton and I always were, I thought there would be an Omega and maybe a Beta in our future. Seeing this now, being in Carleen’s kitchen, I can’t think of anything else I could have wanted.

As we work in silence, I can’t help but think about earlier—about the way she looked at me when I said her ‘no’ would always matter. Carleen Monroe isn’t cold. She isn’t cruel. She’s just…careful.

And if it takes a week, a month, or a year, I’ll make damn sure she knows she’s safe with me.

Withus.

No matter how long it takes.

---