Page 4 of Down Knot Out
Dependable.
The kind of person who nurtures and cares.
And he’s been caring for me—for all of us—with a fierceness that sometimes takes my breath away. He didn’t take it well when he learned I had planned to sacrifice myself for the pack. The others had been angry, worried, and protective, but my heart still aches when I remember Holden’s devastation.
I tried to explain how I thought I was protecting them, that I believed Louie would leave them alone if he had me. But Holden hadn’t been able to comprehend it. They were my Alphas, and he took my choice to face danger alone rather than let them help me as a sign I didn’t trust them.
Since then, I’ve found him sleeping on thecouch in the living room upstairs in the family quarters more than once, curled under a blanket, his face peaceful but his body positioned between my bedroom door and the stairs. Always guarding, always watching. It’s both touching and heartbreaking. I never meant to hurt him. I just wanted to protect him.
I leave the mugs of coffee on the countertop and move to his side as he flips another perfect pancake. The spatula appears small in his hand, which bears tiny scars from cuts and burns.
I lean into him, rubbing my cheek on his hard bicep. “These smell amazing.”
“Almost ready,” he says, voice a little rougher than before. “Bacon is warming in the oven, and I made extra for Quinn because she’s going through a growth spurt, according to Blake.”
His thoughtfulness touches me. “Dominic needs to eat with his meds.”
“Already have his plate planned. I made his favorite. Blueberry pancakes.” Holden gestures with the spatula toward a separate stack. “And I made those chocolate-chip mouse ones for Quinn, and the plain ones are for you because you like to add more butter.”
My heart swells at his attention to detail, and the way he catalogs our preferences,accommodating them without being asked. “Such a good Alpha, caring for everyone.”
A flush spreads across his freckled cheeks. “It’s nothing.”
But it isn’t nothing. It’s everything.
On my tiptoes, I kiss Holden’s cheek, collect the coffee, and leave, feeling Holden’s eyes following me.
The kitchen door swings shut behind me, and I navigate around Quinn, who’s now sprawled on the floor with more paper and crayons, drawing a purple horse with wings.
I deliver Grady’s coffee first, then head over to Dominic with his. He still scrolls on his tablet, his dark eyebrows drawn together, and pain tightens the corners of his mouth.
“Here you go,” I say, offering the mug. “Holden says breakfast is almost ready, and he made your favorite blueberry pancakes.”
“I can’t say I dislike being spoiled.” The tension in Dominic’s face softens as he reaches for the coffee.
Our fingers brush in the exchange, and that buzz of awareness races through my body like electricity again, heating me.
His pupils dilate, his nostrils flaring as he catches the change in my scent. Alphas can detectarousal in Omegas, just as I can pick up on their interest in the subtle shift of their scents. Dominic’s citrus-and-musk pheromones grow richer.
“Thanks,” he says, voice lower than before. Hope lights his face, and he tilts his head in a subtle, unmistakable invitation.
My cheeks warm. It would be so easy to lean in, to brush my lips over his, to let the spark between us turn into desire. More and more, it’s getting harder to remember why I keep resisting the pull between us.
“Uncle Blake, I need glitter,” Quinn yells, bringing me upright at the reminder we’re not alone.
“No glitter before breakfast,” Blake rumbles.
With an apologetic shrug, I step back.
Understanding fills Dominic’s face, along with disappointment. His fingers curl around the mug, knuckles whitening as if restraining himself from reaching for me.
As I turn away, a flash of movement outside the window catches my eye. I move closer to the glass, peering out into the yard.
Nathaniel stands on the path outside, throwing a ball for Sprinkles. His blond hair gleams in the morning sunlight, swept back from his forehead in neat waves.
Even this early in the morning, he appears put-together dressed in khakis and a polo shirt, this one a deep blue that compliments his brown eyes.
Nathaniel throws the ball again, and the black Newfoundland bounds after the ball with surprising grace for such a large dog.
