Page 35 of Nesting With My Three Alphas
Her excitement was infectious, and I found myself actually looking forward to walking through aisles of art supplies, toremembering what it felt like to create something beautiful just because I wanted to.
The rest of the afternoon unfolded like a warm dream. We piled into Reed's truck, Charlie chattering excitedly about what I might draw while Jonah pointed out local landmarks and Reed hummed along to the radio. The art store was exactly what Micah had promised, well-stocked with supplies that made my fingers itch to create.
By the time we left, I had enough supplies to stock a small studio, sketch pads and pencils, charcoal and pastels, even a small watercolor set that Micah had insisted I needed "for experimenting."
"This is too much," I protested as Reed loaded everything into his truck. "I can't let you all spend this much on me."
"Kit," Jonah said gently, "let us do this. Please."
"But why?"
"Because you matter," Charlie said simply, climbing into the truck with her new colored pencils. "And because making you happy makes us happy."
As we drove home through the golden afternoon light, my heart full of possibility and the truck full of art supplies, I realized that maybe I was finally learning what love was supposed to feel like.
And maybe, just maybe, I was brave enough to let myself have it.
Chapter 11
Micah
The Monday morning rush at the bakery had been busier than usual. Apparently word was spreading about Kit's integration into our little community, and everyone wanted to catch a glimpse of the omega who'd managed to charm Charlie Maddox and her notoriously protective father. I'd fielded at least six not-so-subtle questions about "that sweet girl from the duplex" while boxing up muffins and pouring coffee.
Small towns, I thought with fond exasperation. You couldn't sneeze without it becoming community news.
But it was the good kind of gossip, the kind that came from genuine care and curiosity rather than malice. Mrs. Carrington had stopped by specifically to tell me how lovely Kit seemed, and how nice it was to see "young Jonah smiling again." Even gruff old Mr. Peterson had asked if I thought Kit might be interested in joining the community garden committee.
Not all the morning's conversations had been so welcoming, though. Around ten o'clock, Jake Morrison from the hardware store had stopped by with a troubled expression that immediately put my alpha instincts on alert.
"Hey, weird question," he'd said, glancing around the empty bakery before leaning closer. "Someone was asking about that new omega yesterday. Wouldn't give a name, but the description matched your friend Kit perfectly."
"What kind of questions?" I'd asked, my protective instincts sharpening.
"Where she lived, how long she'd been in town, whether she was seeing anyone. Said he was an old friend trying to reconnect, but something felt off about it." Jake had shrugged apologetically. "Might be nothing, but figured you'd want to know."
I'd thanked him for the heads up, but the conversation had been nagging at me all morning. Kit had been careful not to share much about her past, but the few things she had mentioned suggested she was running from something. Or someone. The contrast between the genuine warmth of the community's interest and this stranger's probing questions left me unsettled.
Still, most of the morning had been about genuine care and welcome.
They were already claiming her as one of ours.
The thought made my alpha purr with satisfaction. Pack expansion was always delicate, but Kit was fitting into Hollow Haven's rhythms like she'd been born here.
I was just pulling the last batch of cinnamon rolls from the oven when the bell above the door chimed, bringing with it the vanilla-and-honey scent that had become my favorite part of any day. Kit stood in the doorway, looking uncertain despite the small smile on her face.
"Am I interrupting?" she asked. "I know you're probably busy..."
"Never too busy for you," I said, meaning it completely. "What brings you by?"
"Coffee emergency," Kit said, her smile becoming more genuine. "I forgot to buy coffee yesterday, and I'm pretty sure I'm not safe to be around until I've had at least one cup."
"Well, we can't have that," I said, already reaching for my best beans. "Medical emergency calls for serious caffeine intervention."
I watched her settle at the small table by the window, noting the way the morning light caught the auburn highlights in her dark hair. She'd pulled it back in a messy bun secured with what looked like a pencil. Artist habits already reasserting themselves after yesterday's supply shopping.
"How are the new art supplies?" I asked, starting the espresso machine. "Find anything inspiring yet?"
"Actually, yes." Kit's face lit up in a way that made my chest warm. "I stayed up way too late last night sketching. It felt... God, it felt like remembering how to breathe properly."
