Page 62 of Where There's Smoke
I continued to laugh. “I guess old habits die hard. When we formed a pack, we had no idea what sort of family Fitz came from. We knew he was well off, but when he came into his trust fund… Let's just say, it was an eye-opening experience.”
“Are pack finances all shared?” she asked. I had a feeling there was a lot about pack life Melody knew nothing about.
“Yes and no. It’s kind of like marriage. There can be legal paperwork to separate things, but usually, assets are shared in a pack. So, when Fitz came into his trust, the little shit decided he wanted to share it and didn’t set up any legal protections.”
Now, Melody was the one chuckling. “He’s a special one.”
“That’s one way to describe him,” I muttered. Still, as much as I wanted to scold the guy, teach him some basic financial protections, I couldn’t deny that the gesture had been extremely generous of him.
“What’s through there?” Melody asked, jerking her head in the direction of the pack suite.
“Those are the pack rooms.” I said it casually, but my chest tightened at the mention of those rooms.
I had known that one day I would want our omega to live in those rooms, but now, instead of picturing an unknown omega, I was picturing Melody settling in there.
The idea of her living in our house, being in our space? My chest hurt with how badly I wanted that.
How could I convince her of that?
The guys from Station Sixteen had bought a house nearby, so even when we were working, Melody would have a friend she could talk to. Sunny was as sweet and friendly as they came. We already knew that the two of them got along, so it was perfect in a way.
Then again, she’d probably be busy working at the rescue.
And if Fitz had his way, the rescue would be right next door to the fire station.
That rich bastard was really onto something.
Chapter 30
Melody
“Would you like a drink?” Elliot asked as we walked back toward the open-plan kitchen and living space.
“A soda, if you have it,” I said, sitting on the plush maroon couch.
“I'm pretty sure we have at least ten varieties of soda and as many varieties of energy drink, thanks to Samson.” He chuckled as he walked over to the fridge, pulling out a cherry soda and returning to where I was sitting to hand it to me.
“Cherry?” I asked, raising a brow as a grin threatened.
He shrugged. “It's your favorite.”
“It is, but how doyouknow that? I don't think I ever told you.”
Elliot raised his brows back, cocking his head as he gave me a look. “You're constantly drinking them at the station. I'm pretty sure Fitz has been getting extra boxes of it at the grocery store just to keep you well stocked.”
My face heated, my pulse fluttering in my neck. Why did it please me that he paid close enough attention to notice that?
For a moment, we were quiet, Elliot standing awkwardly next to me, while I sat there, playing with my can of soda. We had been friendly ever since my heat, but there was an unresolved issue that still lingered.
“I—” I started to say, but was cut off when Elliot opened his mouth.
“I owe you an apology,” he said matter-of-factly, his voice level and clear.
I paused, mouth still open. While I expected several things of Elliott, I didn't expect an outright apology, considering he had proven to be fairly stubborn in the past. A trait we both clearly shared.
“Okay…” I trailed off, letting him continue. I wanted to hear whyhefelt he had to apologize, if he actually understood what he had done to offend me, or if he was simply apologizing for the sake of apologizing.
“I was a complete ass to you about the arson investigation.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair and sinking onto the couch to the left of me. I watched him sit, noticing his shoulders droop.
