Page 89 of Claiming the Pack's Omega
He shows me around the rest of the second floor, where there’s a bedroom for each of the guys, along with a few extra offices that they use when they’re working from home.
The first floor is where things get exciting.
The kitchen is the sleekest part of this house, with stainless steel appliances and sprawling countertops.
There’s a griddle on the stove. A built-in griddle.
That’s fancy as hell.
I’d make bomb ass pancakes for my siblings on something like that.
My heart pangs at the thought that I won’t get to make my siblings’ breakfast anymore.
Sure, it sucked waking up at what felt like the asscrack of dawn to make them all food and get them to school on time, but they’re all such good kids.
I miss them.
I miss my entire family.
Like, a lot.
I shake my head, dragging myself back to reality. I’m giving my family the golden ticket out of the dead-end life we were living. This is necessary. And good.
“Holy shit, your kitchen is insane,” I breathe out.
“Yeah," he says. “Theo wanted a fancy kitchen.”
“Really? I wouldn’t have pegged him as the kind of guy who’d care about that kind of thing.”
“He’s a great cook. When he’s not ridiculously busy with things at the firm, he tries to make things for us all,” Milo says, leaning against the kitchen counter. “He taught himself how to cook when he was a kid ‘cause his original family… wasn’t very present.”
“Yeah, he’s mentioned some stuff to me about them.”
Milo’s brows go up in surprise.
“Really? He doesn’t talk to a lot of people about that.”
“Yeah, well, I guess I’m special,” I say, teasingly tossing my hair over my shoulder. “What can I say, people feel safe around me.”
Milo’s eyes are soft as they look at me.
“Yeah,” he says, seriously, no hint of any joking in sight.
Shit, now I feel like I was being an ass about them confiding in me.
“I’m not really that special,” I shrug.
“Agree to disagree.” Theo’s voice calls out from the front door. He saunters into the kitchen. “Sorry, guys, didn’t mean to listen in, I just heard the tail end of the conversation and had to?—”
“Butt in?” I say, letting out a huff of laughter.
“Well, I was going to say correct your factually incorrect statement, but butt in works too,” Theo says, flashing me a wink.
An actual fucking wink.
Who does this man think he is?
I roll my eyes, but I swear I can feel my cheeks growing pink. Why the hell does this man have to look and smell so delicious?
