Page 97 of Dream Girl
Brennan crossed his arms over his chest. “She doesn’t load the dishwasher right and washes all her clothes on warm. Also, she eats ice cream with a small spoon instead of a big one and holds her mug weird.”
“Barbaric,” I teased. “Is that all you’ve got?” I wanted to figure out what his issues were so we could fix it.
“Are the other reasons really not enough? She’s hiding something,” he insisted. Jett squeezed his shoulder.
Shewashiding something. When should we tell Brennan and Jett that she was fromanother world?
I put my dishes in the dishwasher and gave them another kiss. “I’ve got to get some work done. One of my cases is complicated.”
“Okay. Spend tonight with us?” Brennan ran his hand down my chest, reminding me of the quickie we’d had this morning.
“Mmmm, twist my arm.” I gave him a teasing kiss.
I dropped Riley’s stuff off in her room, then went down to the basement and tossed the stuff I’d bought myself in the washer. I picked up the bottle of soap and frowned. This wasn’t our usual laundry detergent. While we had de-scenting cleaning products, we didn’t use that sort of soap.
Huh. Maybe Riley brought it. Scents should start being more pronounced for her, and they might get overpowering at times. I put it back and found the kind I preferred. Perfect.
Wes and Spencer were in the living room deep in some sort of work conversation, both with their computers out. If Grace also worked there, what would dinner conversations be like?
Giving them a wave, I headed upstairs to look for Grace, with the things I’d bought for her.
One of the double doors of her room was wide open, and I spied her in the window seat, which was crammed full of pillows and blankets. She leaned over a notebook, scribbling furiously, with Wes’ tablet beside her, resting on a fuzzy blanket.
Relief filled me at seeing her like this. While she’d made big blanket piles on the bed in the hospital, I’d yet to see her make any sort of nest here. Not on her bed, or the floor, or using the giant beanbag I’d put in Wes’ office for her.
A nest was crucial to an omega’s emotional and mental wellbeing. They provided comfort and safety. I had a couple throughout the house for me to relax in, filled with soft things covered in scents that comforted me–like those in my pack. I’d even snagged a couple of pillows from Wes’ room that smelled like Grace.
Not all gammas made nests–and the urge to make yourself a cozy area or roll up in blankets wasn’t only for omegas. But I wanted Grace to feel at home. To me, her creating a little space for herself, even if it wasn’t a nest, was a sign that she was feeling safe and comfortable here with us. I’d even been cycling blanketsand pillows through Wes’ room, then leaving them places for her so she’d have things with our scents if she wanted them.
With everything Grace had been through, I wanted her to have that stability, that comfort.
Feeling unsafe could not only destabilize an omega’s mental state, but it could wreak havoc on omega hormones. An omega who felt unsafe might not go into heat, because they sensed it would be dangerous to bring children into the world. A lot of those things still applied to gammas.
It took over a year for my hormones to properly stabilize after Caroline.
I knocked on the open door, peeking in. “Anyone home?”
“Hey, how was shopping?” She looked up and grinned at me.
“Brought you some things. Can I come in?” I held up the bags.
“Of course.” I leaned in and gave her a kiss.
“Mmmm, please sir, I want some more.” She grabbed the collar of my work polo and dragged me in for another kiss.
There she went, calling mesir.Mmmm. My dick strained against my pants. I never felt the urge to top anyone–except her.
I caught equations on the papers. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to recall my parallel world research. It’s not going well.” She sighed and moved everything to the windowsill. Jett should build her a shelf in the window so she had a place to put things.
“Are you going to try to get home?” I didn’t want her to leave.
She scooted over and moved the blankets. “Sit.”
“You want me to join you?” I asked. An omega’s nest was sacrosanct. Her wanting me to come in with her meanteverything.
“It’s a pile of blankets, not a marriage proposal.” She grinned, patting it again.
