5. Zara

Staring at the ceiling, it's impossible to fall back asleep. Trying to earn Benjamin's trust is like beating my head against a brick wall, but I've been here two minutes, so I have to be patient. I'm usually well-liked, though, and don't have conflict with anyone, Eddie notwithstanding, of course. It's starting to give me an ache and not in a good way. The omega designation in my DNA is desperate for him, an alpha, to accept me. I know I'm a people pleaser, but this is different. This is… his scent captivating me in ways that I need to push aside and forget about.

Groaning, I roll over on the small double bed.

Thud.

"Ah!"

My face is on the carpet from falling off the bed, and the sheets are still tangled around my legs. I'm glad Benjamin didn't see me face plant. He wouldn't trust me with his baby if he had. It's weird, though. Holding a baby and dealing with children is when I'm at my most confident and capable, so he needn't worry.

"Shower," I mumble, untangling my legs and standing up. I sort out the covers on the bed and then gather up my towel and toiletries, slinging my dressing gown around my shoulders so I'm not sneaking back to my room in just a towel.

I slide out of my room, sneaking down the hallway to the bathroom.

The bathroom is cool and inviting, and as I strip down for the shower, I let the frustrations of the past day fade away with each layer of clothing. The hot spray of water soothes away the stiffness from sleeping in the armchair next to Mia. She had been niggly and fractious, and I didn't want her disturbing Benjamin, who I could hear snoring all the way down the hall. The poor man must've been exhausted. So I stayed, and it calmed her, and I'd do it again. This isn't a 9-5 job where I can clock in and clock out. I'm here for all the hours, and I hope Benjamin gets it through his thick alpha skull sooner rather than later.

The water rushes over me, drowning out everything but the beating pulse against my skin. It's a cleansing ritual that helps clear my head.

Once I'm done, I dry myself quickly and slip on my dressing gown to head back to my room. Making it there without incident, luckily, I dress in white leggings and oversized tee. Today, I have to make more progress with getting Benjamin on my side.

Today's the day I make us a team, for Mia's sake.

I head to the kitchen to start breakfast, hoping the smell of coffee and toast might lure out one grumpy alpha.

Halfway through popping bread into the toaster, there's a small squeal from the baby monitor clipped to my waistband.

I snatch it up to see Benjamin returning to the nursery with Mia. He is a totally different man than the brooding asshole he shows to me. Chuckling and tickling her, rocking her and dancing around as she flaps her arms. It's beautiful.

So his bad attitude is reserved just for me. But I understand. I have to. He feels guilty for needing help, and he thinks I'm going to leave like his mate did. I watch as he settles her in her cot, and then I go back to making toast as I hear him come down the stairs.

"Morning," I say brightly as he comes into the kitchen with bedhead, tartan pyjama bottoms, and nothing else.

Don't look. Don't look…My gaze lingers on his abs before being drawn back up to his face by the intensity of his stare.

He glares at me as if he had forgotten I was even here. "Oh, you."

It takes a second of epic face control, but I don't grimace at him. I smile. An over-the-top cheesy grin that he seems to recoil from, like it's going to melt him or something. "Coffee?" I chirp.

"Tea."

Of course. If I'd offered the other way around, he'd be just as obtuse.

"I'll make it. I like it a certain way."

"Doesn't everyone?" I ask brightly, reaching for a mug anyway and handing it to him.

He looks at it for a moment and then leans past me to replace it and pick up another one. It's fair. Everyone has their favourite mug. But now it's my turn to recoil as his pinecone scent hits my nostrils and makes my heart beat a bit quicker. I stumble back and he looks at me like I've lost my mind, so I busy myself wiping down an already spotless counter.

"So, what are your plans for today?" I ask, glancing over my shoulder at him.

Benjamin doesn't respond immediately. His focus is on the task at hand as he meticulously stirs tea around in the mug. The way his fingers deftly work the spoon is almost mesmerising.

"Work," he grunts finally, not looking up. "Got to catch up on a lot of paperwork."

I nod understandingly, setting out plates and butter for the toast that's just popped up, golden brown and perfect. "Okay. Will that be here, or are you going out?"

He glances at me, a flicker of something indecipherable crossing his face before it settles back into that stern mask I'm getting to know all too well. "Here," he says curtly, taking a sip of the steaming tea he just made.

As I spread butter on the toast, I think about that flicker I saw. Was it vulnerability? My omega instincts are itching to soothe him, to show him he doesn't have to be strong all the time. But I tamp down those feelings. He's not ready for that kind of comfort for this hurt yet—at least not from me.

"Okay," I murmur, wishing he'd give me something to work with. I slide a plate of toast over to him.

He glares at it like it's poison, and I sigh. He is impossible!

But then he snatches it up and bites into it as he walks away, his mug in his other hand. Wonderful. What a great way to get him on my side by making him hate me even more.

I stand there for a moment, letting out a small, frustrated huff. It's like navigating a minefield with this man. But as I glance at the empty space where he stood moments ago, I forgive him for being a dick. He's like a locked door with no key in sight. But something tells me there are treasures behind that door; it's not just stubborn pride and angst. There's caring in him—I've seen it with Mia—and if I'm patient enough, I'll see it directed somewhere else.

Shaking my head, I quickly eat my toast and tidy up, knowing Mia will probably be up soon and looking for her bottle.

A soft gurgling sound from the monitor alerts me, and I quickly wash my hands before heading back to the nursery. Mia is awake, wide-eyed and kicking her chubby legs.

"Good morning, sunshine," I coo as I pick her up. She rewards me with more cute baby noises that melts any remaining irritation from my encounter with Benjamin. I quickly make up a bottle with one hand while I keep hold of Mia. We settle into the comfy armchair, and she latches onto the bottle with gusto. It's these moments, the quiet ones with Mia, that fill me with warmth.

As Mia sucks eagerly on her bottle, my thoughts stray to Benjamin again. Despite the rough edges to his attitude, there's a tender side I witness only in his interactions with his daughter. I wonder if anyone else sees that side of him or if it's locked away, accessible only by this tiny, innocent being.

Once Mia has her fill, I gently pat her back until a soft burp escapes her lips, and she nuzzles into my shoulder.

I lay Mia down in her cot again and stroke her forehead; she's contented for now. Feeling brave—or perhaps I'm just being stupid—I decide to join Benjamin downstairs. Maybe if we're in the same room without the pressure of conversation, his walls might lower just a bit.

Padding softly down the stairs in my slippers, I enter the living room, which has been turned into an impromptu office. Papers are scattered across the coffee table where Benjamin sits hunched over his laptop.

"Do you need anything?"

I curse myself for asking, but I can't help it. It's in my nature to nurture.

He glances up briefly, eyes narrowed behind his glasses, but he shakes his head curtly before returning his gaze to the screen. "No," he mutters.

"Will you be going to the office tomorrow?"

He looks up at me with a frown. "Why do you ask?"

"Uhm, your mum said that you'd run out of paternity leave and were now on holiday leave. I'm here now. You can go back and do your work without worrying about Mia."

Stop talking, Zara. You're making it worse.

His gaze hardens, and I'm sure he's about to lash out with a comment about not needing my permission to go back to work or something equally as prickly. But instead, he shocks me and sighs, the sound heavy like it's been dragged from the depths of his soul.

"I know that," he says, his voice softer than I expected. "I've been... adjusting. It's not as simple as just going back."

I nod, fighting the urge to step closer and offer more than just assistance. I want to offer comfort, but I know that's not my place. "I understand," I say, keeping my voice gentle. "If you need anything, I'm here, okay?" It seems that I need to constantly remind him I'm not going anywhere.

"Thanks," he grumbles, turning back to his screen.

I take it as my cue to leave and retreat back to the kitchen, where I can be useful. Busy hands keep nosy thoughts at bay—or at least that's what I tell myself as I start prepping for lunch.