15. Zara

Ihadn't intended to make Benjamin so upset with the video call, but sometimes, you have to yank on the reins when an alpha is getting stubborn and broody.

I know he's got a lot resting on his shoulders, but Mia needs him to be sensible right now. I'm just trying to push him in the right direction. He might not like it, but someone's got to do it. The man could use a break from worrying every second of every day. I need to be more proactive. I'm here for Mia, yes, but I need to be here for Benjamin as well. Make his life a little bit easier.

I glance around, considering what to make for dinner tonight.

With everything that's gone on, I reckon comfort food is the order of the day. Something that'll give him a break from all the stress when he gets home.

I pull out my phone and start scrolling through recipes. Stew? No, too heavy. Pasta? Maybe it's a bit unimaginative.

"Ooh, nice." Cottage pie. I spotted another pack of mince in the freezer yesterday, so I quickly grab it and place it in a sink of cold water to defrost quicker. In the meantime, I set about peeling potatoes and prepping vegetables while feeding Mia and playing with her. She is babbling from her play mat, trying to tell me something very important in baby speak and honestly, who am I to ignore such an enthusiastic conversation partner?

"Really?" I say as I tickle her tummy. "And you think adding a bit of cheese on top of the mash would be even better?"

Mia giggles and flails her arms about as if to say ‘obviously'. Wise beyond her months, this one.

Eventually, all the play wears her out, and she succumbs to the pull of sleep. I place her carefully in her crib in my room and make sure the baby monitor is on as I slip out and head back to the kitchen. Time is ticking on, and the mince is soft now, so I rip it out of the packet and chuck it into the waiting pan of onions to brown off before I add it to the carrots and stock. I stir it, watching the way the meat sizzles and mixes with the caramelised onions, releasing a homey scent that fills the kitchen.

The potatoes are soft now, so I drain them and start mashing, adding butter and a little milk until they're creamy and smooth. I grin as I sprinkle cheese on top—just like Mia ‘suggested.'

As the pie bakes in the oven, I tidy up. The clatter of plates and cutlery is rhythmic and comforting.

I glance at the clock. Shit, time's running faster than I thought. I quickly set the table for three, Liam included. I'm nervous to see him now. This is going to be like our first date, with Benjamin tagging along for the ride.

When the door opens and the alphas stride in, my heart kicks it up a notch.

"Wow!" Liam exclaims, coming straight to the kitchen. "Fuck, that smells good. Knew you wouldn't let us down. Ben here thought we'd be on cold soup and stale bread."

Giggling, confused, I ask, "What?"

"Springing this move in on you," Liam explains. "Ben thought you'd be big mad."

I glance at Benjamin with a raised eyebrow. He glares back at me. "It's not my place to be mad. This is Benjamin's house."

"Call him Ben, for fuck's sake," Liam says. "Benjamin's his Sunday name."

Shaking my head with a smile, I will call him Ben when he tells me to and not a second before. "Mia's sleeping," I say, turning my attention to the alpha of the house. "She's not due a bottle for a while, so dinner's ready now if you guys want to grab showers beforehand?"

"Are you going to join me?" Liam asks, waggling his eyebrows.

"Fuck off with that," Benjamin growls. "Leave her alone."

"It's okay," I say, pressing my lips together, appreciating the defence but not needing it. He doesn't know that Liam and I are… whatever we are or will be. "But thanks. Nice to know there are still gentlemen out there."

"I don't want him fucking this up," Benjamin grouses. "That dinner smells too good."

"Agreed," Liam states. "I promise not to fuck anything up. Deal?" His green eyes pin mine, and the sexy, seductive gaze is almost more than I can handle. I gulp and feel slick dampen my pussy. He is affecting me way more than I'd like. My heat isn't due for another four weeks, and while Susan and I made a plan for that, where I will hole up for three days while she and Peter take over during the weekdays, Liam's presence seems to be dragging it closer to the surface.

I don't know if that's a good thing or a very, very bad thing.

"Go now," I croak, waving them off towards the stairs. Benjamin doesn't look particularly thrilled, but there's a subtle shift in his posture. The rigidity in his shoulders relaxes just a notch as the smell of dinner seems to erode away some of his earlier frustration.

Liam gives me a cheeky grin and bounds up the stairs two at a time.

Benjamin grumbles something under his breath that I don't quite catch as he follows Liam at a more sedate pace. I shake my head, trying to focus on setting the last of the table rather than the riot of butterflies Liam's flirtatiousness has set off in my stomach.

Once they're out of sight, I turn to Mia's baby monitor and check on her one more time before turning back to attend to the pie just as the oven timer pings. Pulling on oven gloves, I retrieve the cottage pie—all golden brown and bubbling around the edges—and set it down with a satisfied sigh.

Liam returns first, hair wet and dressed in grey joggers and a tight white tee. His hair is sticking up adorably, and through forces that are unknown to me at this particular time, make me smile and go over to him. I reach up, his six-foot frame towering over my five-one as I stand on tiptoes and smooth his sticky up hair down, lingering a bit too long.

His gaze pins mine again, heating my insides, my heart speeding up as our lips are too close together.

He grins. "Thanks."

"Anytime," I croak, drawing in his scent as he does the same to me. It's natural. It's the dance of the alpha and omega.

"Fuck, you smell good," he murmurs, closing his eyes.

"You sure that's not just the pie?"

He chuckles and opens his eyes. "Not the pie. You."

I tilt my face towards his, wanting him to kiss me. His summer rain scent is overpowering, telling me of his arousal that matches mine. His lips brush mine, but then Benjamin's footsteps can be heard coming down the stairs, and I stumble back, my cheeks on fire as I turn away and busy myself with the veggies.

Fuck. What am I doing?

Bad Zara. Bad, bad omega.