46. Resa

Chapter 46

Resa

G arrison has his newspaper open as I walk into the kitchen the next morning.

I meant to stay awake and see if Garrison was any closer to finishing his puzzle. That didn't happen. I went out to my nest to lie down for an hour. Suddenly, light was streaming in through the sliding glass doors, and I was peeling my face off a chocolate wrapper.

Fortunately, no one was around when I returned to the house. A good thing too, because I had chocolate smeared all over my mouth.

I don't say a word as I enter the kitchen, but Garrison lifts his eyes and freezes. Which is how I know he has that pregnancy book hidden in the newspaper again.

"Something interesting?" I pull a chair back from the dining table and sink into it, my stomach growling from all the yummy breakfast scents. The two alphas' scents aren't so bad either.

Vaughn's smile is smug and Blaine and Garrison look pleased. Did I miss something this morning?

"Not particularly," Garrison says.

I point my chin at his newspaper, curious what excuse he will give me. "Can I see?"

He snaps the paper closed. "You wouldn't be interested in golf."

"Golf. Right." Vaughn snorts a laugh. "Want pancakes, beautiful?"

I consider how often I've eaten pancakes these last few days. Too many, probably. There's bacon, sausage, scrambled eggs, and toast laid out on the table, but my obsession with pancakes and fancy apple juice has yet to abate. "As long as I'm not in danger of one hitting me in the face. Thanks."

Vaughn pushes himself up from the dining table, crosses over to the kitchen island and picks up a plate of pancakes and a large glass of apple juice. And I realize what I just did. Scratch that. Where I am sitting.

He expected me to sit in my usual place. Maybe they all did.

Was that the reason for the smiles?

I didn't even think about what I was doing before I did it.

"Everything okay?" Garrison asks, watching me closely.

I debate moving to the kitchen island, and I don't for the same reason I've stopped carrying an emergency knife. I don't feel like I need a big slab of granite between me and alphas.

At least, not the two alphas in this house.

"Fine." I hold out my hands for my plate and wriggle my fingers. "Pancakes please."

"Coming up." Vaughn winks as he sets my plate down.

I'm two pancakes down and have barely come up for air when I realize no one else is eating. They're watching me, smiling faintly.

I automatically wipe the back of my hand over my mouth. "What? Do I have stuff on my face?"

"No." Blaine reaches for his coffee. "You look fine."

"She looks more than fine." Vaughn scowls at him. "She looks beautiful."

I'm scruffy in sweatpants, a black T-shirt, and fuzzy socks with my freshly washed hair scraped out of my face. I do not look beautiful.

"We'll leave for your appointment after breakfast," Garrison says before I can correct Vaughn.

My appointment…

Shit. I completely forgot it was today.

I eye my plate, wanting to finish, but determined not to be late for this appointment.

"You have time to finish," Garrison reassures me.

"Oh, okay. I was going to have another self-defense lesson with Blaine this morning," I remember, not realizing I was overbooking myself. He was going to teach me more ways to keep hold of my weapon so someone couldn't take it off me. Hence the reason for my comfy, cozy outfit.

Blaine takes a sip from his mug and sets it down. "I have some stuff I need to work on, but we can do it tomorrow or the day after if you want?"

That's probably a good idea. Who knows how I'm going to be feeling after this appointment? "Okay."

Garrison nods. "Vaughn will drive, and I'll go with you, if you don't mind."

Blaine looks down, and I hope he isn't feeling guilty about not coming. I know how he feels about clinics and hospitals, and I'd rather he didn't force himself to come.

"You must have lots of things to keep you busy," I say.

"Not this morning." Garrison puts his newspaper down.

Approximately two seconds later, Lex wanders in, busy tapping on his cell phone. "Boss Man, you have that meeting this morning with?—"

"You must be mistaken," Garrison smoothly interrupts. "That was tomorrow morning."

Lex lifts his head, takes one look at Garrison's blank face, and spins around. "Tomorrow it is. My mistake. I'll let him know."

I focus on my pancake as Lex leaves, hoping no one sees my smile. It sounds an awful lot like Garrison Brewster just ducked out of a meeting for my doctor's appointment.

Vaughn drives to the clinic as Garrison deals with some work stuff on his cell phone in the passenger seat.

Before we left the house, I changed out of comfy cozy and into a loose pair of black linen pants, a white T-shirt, and sneakers. Still comfy, still cozy. Just a little less slobby.

I look out the window and think about the future.

When I think of Henry, and what my life could have been, it still hurts, though not as sharply as it did before. But that ship has sailed, and the sooner I move on, the better.

I'd like to speak to Mom again and let her know she's going to be a grandparent. Not in the way she would have hoped or expected, but a child is a child and she has always loved children. She will be happy, and Dad will be happy knowing I'm safe and home.

"Resa?"

I blink myself back into the present. Garrison is holding my door open, no cell phone in sight. Seeing his concern makes me feel guilty.

Here he is dropping his meeting to come with me to my appointment, and here I am daydreaming about going back to my parents.

Why do I feel so guilty?

"Sorry, I'm ready." I climb out of the car and he leads the way inside. Vaughn salutes me but stays leaning beside the car, arms crossed, scanning the quiet side street that we drove down to get to the clinic.

Garrison reaches for the door handle but peers over his shoulder before opening it. "I called ahead to make sure you don't get any nasty surprises."

"Nasty surprises?" My eyes flick over his shoulder.

I spot a nurse in a set of purple scrubs.

White coats. Why am I only thinking about that now?

"Okay?" Garrison asks.

I refocus on him and nod. "Okay."

We sit on two white metal chairs outside the same room I met Isaura. The only people in the hallways are nurses and the occasional doctor. Everyone is in scrubs. There's not a hint of a white coat anywhere, and I know exactly who to thank for that.

"You lied about that meeting," I say, staring straight ahead.

"Did I?"

Still not looking at him, I nod. "You had a meeting this morning, and you moved it to tomorrow. Didn't you?"

When he doesn't respond, I turn to face him.

While I was staring at the wall opposite, he must have been looking at me.

"Some things take priority. This is one of those things," he explains.

"Who were you supposed to be meeting?"

"No one important," he says.

"The head of the biggest bank in the city," Vaughn yells.

I'd thought he was still sitting in the car. He's at the front door, back to me, watching the front of the clinic. He must have been there awhile to have heard so much of our conversation.

"The head of the biggest bank?" I ask Garrison.

His expression is impossible to decipher. "He was offering us a million to find something."

"A million?"

"But like I said, some things take priority. So it wouldn't have mattered what he offered."

A door creaks open.

"Resa?" Isaura calls out.

I get up, take a step toward her and stop, turning to face Garrison. "You don't have to stay."

My last appointment took over an hour. This one will probably involve drawing blood and other tests if Isaura wants to check my iron levels.

He settles back in his seat. "I know."

But he will anyway.

"And if another job offer worth a million dollars comes along?"

"We're not the only security company in the city."

I turn around so he can't see my smile and follow Isaura into her office.

"How are you feeling, Resa?" Isaura closes the door and leads the way to the same chairs we sat in before.

"Okay," I say, taking a seat. I'm a million times more relaxed than my last visit, but that doesn't mean I'm not distracted.

I can't stop thinking about the men waiting outside for me, content, it seems, to put their lives on hold while I have this checkup. Even if it costs them a million dollars.

Isaura gives me a long look, crossing one ankle over the other. "That was permission to tell me everything. Even if it doesn't feel important. I give you permission to unload." She motions toward her chest with both hands. "Let me have it."

I smile, loving her energy. "I'm okay. Really ."

She nods and waits.

It's a good tactic.

Isaura might actually be the best person to talk to about this. She doesn't know me, doesn't know Pack Lucas, so her opinion will be objective. And hopefully, provide the clarity I need.

"Three men who are not the father of my child have been secretly passing a pregnancy book around. And they keep doing other things… father of the child things. I found the book, and they'd added Post-it tabs of ways they can make sure me and my baby have everything I need. What would you think?"

"Well, I'd think these men might be worth getting to know." She flashes me a grin. "And if maybe I could have their number?"

I snort a laugh and point my chin at her wedding ring. "And that?"

"My husband will understand, I'm sure," she says. But her amusement soon fades. "Sadie briefly, and I say briefly, mentioned you went through some things. Have you spoken to someone about those things?"

"I've thought about it." I focus on her desk and the pretty flower on it. "Those feelings are too big to dig into. I have some stuff I have to do first."

Stuff like speak at Sloane Eddiswood's trial because that's going to be how I get Dexter Pieter to listen. If he won't listen, then maybe the rest of the city will.

And to do that, I can't open myself to trauma I'm not ready to face.

Not yet.

"Well." Isaura gets to her feet with surprising grace, considering the size of her pregnant belly. I have a strange pang that soon I'll be the same. Well, not soon. I have a feeling time is going to creep up on me fast. "I'd say it sounds like those men care about ensuring your well-being. Not all men, biological fathers included, take on the responsibility of caring for the child they bring into the world."

Yeah, the alpha who sold me is a prime example of that.

"Shall we get started?" Isaura asks. "I'd like to check your stats and do another blood and urine test."

Blood test. I knew that was coming. Needles are not my favorite, but if it will confirm everything is okay, I can learn to tolerate them. "Sure."

My checkup doesn't run as long as the last one. I'm out in thirty minutes with more of Isaura's reassurance that things are progressing well.

Garrison is waiting outside the room, not playing on his phone, texting, or even working. Just sitting, one leg crossed over the other, arms folded, watching my door.

"Everything okay?" he asks as I wave Isaura goodbye.

"Isaura said I'm okay. She'll call with my blood test results sometime next week." Unless something scary comes up in the results which she doesn't anticipate, we've scheduled regular monthly prenatal appointments from now on.

He nods. "Excellent. Ready to go home?"

There's that word again.

Home.

He suddenly blocks my path with those big shoulders.

I stop. "Uh…"

"Give it a second," he says, eyes on something I can't see.

"I'm not going to want to know what's over there, am I?" I ask, already guessing what he's hiding from me.

"Probably not."

White coat. A source of more nightmares than he would ever know.

We stand in the hallway for another five seconds, then he says, "Ready to go?"

I nod, and he leads the way out. "Anything we need to do?"

My steps slow. "Why would you need to do something?"

"Presumably, there are ways we can make you comfortable."

Naturally, my mind goes back to my sex dream, which I'm positive is not what he means.

Blushing, I stare at the white polished floor. "Uh, no. Just resting mostly." That's not entirely true. She encouraged my men to spoil me and for me to enjoy every minute of it. For a beta, Isaura acts a lot like an omega. "And she said she doesn't need to see me again until next month, but I should call her in case I have any questions."

Outside, the sun is bright in the sky, and Vaughn is leaning on the side of the Hummer. He lifts his hand in a wave. "Wanna get ice cream?"

"It's still breakfast time," I remind him.

"Well, I've decided ice cream is now a breakfast food. What do you say to a scoop of mint choc?" He opens the back seat with a flourish.

He's relaxed and joking, yet he has his right hand close to his pocket, and his eyes never settle on anywhere for long. This clinic is down a quiet street with no one in the parking lot, but he never stops being alert.

Garrison is the same. Walking beside me, he looks calm, on the surface at least. He matches his longer legged pace to mine so we're always side by side.

He must feel my attention to peer down at me. "Something wrong?"

"No. Just wondered what ice cream you would choose."

"Vanilla," Vaughn says with a wink.

I get in. Vaughn opened the door, but it's Garrison who moves to close it. "Incorrect. I'm partial to sweet ambrosia and wild honey."

I have a flashback to sitting on Vaughn's drum kit with his face buried between my thighs, as an alpha listened down the phone.

Garrison wanted to know how I taste. Vaughn told him.

Sweet ambrosia and wild honey.

Garrison holds my gaze for a beat longer as my heart spikes and I fight the need to squirm in my seat. He isn't talking about ice cream flavors.

He's talking about tasting me .

We eat our ice cream in the car, returning to a house that smells so good, there's no silencing my growling belly.

I press my hand over my stomach as Vaughn and Garrison pretend not to notice how it sounds like I've never eaten a day in my life.

Blaine swings the door open as we approach, smiles at me and says, "Be prepared. Lex did the dinner."

"Oh no," Vaughn breathes. "And I stuffed myself with ice cream."

He had four scoops of mint choc chip. I settled for three of chocolate but wanted four, and Garrison had one scoop of pistachio. Clearly, he's the only one of us with any restraint.

"What's the dinner?" I ask, following Blaine inside.

"You'll see." Blaine slows his steps, catching my eye. "Are you okay? Garrison texted to say everything was okay, but is it?"

"Yeah, I'm okay."

"Good." His concern melts away, and he leads the way to the kitchen.

I grind to a halt in the doorway, struggling to make sense of what I'm seeing.

Lex, wearing a white apron, is standing beside a kitchen island laden with food, grinning proudly as he brandishes a wooden spoon. "Prepare to feast."

"What the hell is this?" I breathe.

He has everything from carbs to meats to dessert covered. I've never seen so much food laid out like this before.

" That —" Vaughn presses his hands on my shoulders and guides me to the dining table chair I sat in for breakfast, "—is the dinner. He likes to surprise us with it."

"He did it for me when I came home from the hospital." Blaine takes his usual seat and for one second everyone stares at him. I'm not sure why until he catches my eye and says, "We don't talk about that time much."

Right.

"So. This is Lex's way of showing he cares," Vaughn explains.

"But why is he wearing an apron when everything looks like it came from a restaurant?" I ask, confused. "And why is he holding a wooden spoon like that?"

"None of us knows." Garrison takes his seat with a sigh. "I think he wants us to believe he cooked it all."

I point at the overflowing trash can. "But you can see all the takeout boxes."

Lex's head whips around. "So that's how you always knew," he breathes.

"Yes." Vaughn takes a seat and picks up a spring roll that he thumps onto his plate. "Though we always pretended not to."

"Why didn't you ever say?" Lex says, joining us at the table.

Vaughn picks up a dish of rice and serves himself. "You looked so proud waving your little wooden spoon around."

"And we've ordered some of these dishes before," Blaine adds. "So there's no way you could have made them."

As they talk, they pass plates around, helping themselves, offering dishes to me and pointing out what they think I might like.

I'm more interested in watching them than eating.

I knew they worked together and were a pack, but I hadn't really seen them as a family until now.

"Resa?" Garrison is holding a dish of orange chicken toward me.

I take it. "I still don't understand why you call it the dinner. Why is it different from any other dinner?"

"Because this one is special. Means we came home safe at the end of a big job. Everyone is safe, and everyone is home," Blaine says quietly. "Lex said his mom used to do something similar when he was younger."

"Though she cooked it all," Lex confirms. "But it's how it made me feel that's important."

"In our line of work, things don't always end well, so we always appreciate the dinner," Garrison says.

Violet.

No one says her name, but they must be thinking of her.

"So, this is because of you?" I frown at Garrison, though I don't see what he did to deserve this spread.

"No. You got the all clear at the doctor," Garrison says, smiling at me. "This is for you."