Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

- Dominic -

T he salty sea breeze caresses my face as the sun dips below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the island. I sigh with relief, grateful to be back home after a week of grueling investor meetings in the city.

"Thanks for picking me up, Kyle." I clap him on the shoulder as he slows the engine and slides the water taxi up to the side of the dock.

His close-cropped beard and shaved head glisten with sweat from a day spent fishing, his Scally cap sitting on the console above the steering wheel.

"I was done for the day, anyway." He nods toward a cooler lashed down to keep it from sliding around. "Help me carry that in, will you?"

"Of course." I tie off the rear of the water taxi while he does the front, and then load my suitcase onto the golf cart parked on the narrow beach.

Jogging back to the boat, I grab one handle of the ice chest and grunt with surprise at the weight. "What's for dinner?"

"Salmon." Kyle grins, his eyes twinkling like the ocean waves. "Enough for our bellies tonight and for the smoker."

"Ah, that'll put a smile on Nathaniel's face." I can already imagine how my bondmate's stoic expression will light up when he finds Holden's famous smoked salmon dip in the fridge.

Kyle chuckles and nods. "I sure hope so. He was a bit of a grump earlier."

A frown tugs at my lips as we load the cooler onto the back of the golf cart before we climb into the front. "Grumpier than usual?"

"Yeah." Kyle drives up the main path. "He was on Blake's ass first thing this morning, nitpicking everything. They would have come to blows if Emily hadn't put them both in their place."

"Did his dad call him? The old man pushes Nathaniel's buttons when he noses around in our business."

"Most likely." Kyle's face scrunches in annoyance. "Asshole always senses exactly when things are going well for us and swoops in to wreck it."

"It's the price of taking money from a family member." And one we continue to regret.

The Burton and Sterling names got us in front of a lender, but once the bank realized our pack families weren't part of our project, they denied our loan request. After my mother disowned me for not falling into line with her plans for my future, it left us with only one place to turn.

"You know you could get him off Nathaniel's back." Kyle nudges me, but a hint of seriousness underscores his teasing words. "All you have to do is say I do ."

I glare at him. "I'm not crawling back to my family to offer myself on the auction block. That would defeat the purpose of building a home here."

"Must have been hard to grow up in such a rich pack, huh?" Kyle shakes his head. "You and Nathaniel are always complaining about those silver spoons in your mouths."

"Ha. You're hilarious," I grumble, but deep down, I know he's right.

Compared to our other pack members, our lives were privileged. But sometimes, the weight of our families' expectations is suffocating.

As we drive up toward the house, I catch a whiff of something sweet in the air that fills me with a warm, almost nostalgic feeling. For a moment, I'm transported back to my childhood, playing in the gardens at the family estates.

"Are the flowers blooming already?" I ask Kyle, trying to pinpoint the source of the scent.

He casts me a puzzled glance. "We've got a few blooms opening in the back garden. Why? You fancy a bouquet to brighten up your bedroom, m'lord?"

"Shut up, asshole." I take another deep breath, the sweetness lingering in the back of my nose, teasing my senses. "You don't smell that?"

Kyle slaps me on the back, laughing. "It's nature, man! You've been in the city for too long. You've forgotten what fresh air smells like."

"Maybe you're right," I concede, but the niggling sense of familiarity refuses to let go.

The gravel crunches under the golf cart's wheels as we pull up to the house, the familiar sight of its weathered wood and stone exterior bringing the warmth of comfort and belonging.

Kyle parks alongside the door that leads directly into the kitchen, and my stomach rumbles in anticipation for whatever delicious meal Holden created for us tonight.

"Let's bring this cooler inside." Kyle bounds out of the driver's seat.

After fishing out in the sun all day, I don't know how he's so energetic. I follow at a slower pace, unloading my suitcase and setting it inside the service hall.

Returning to the golf cart, I grab one handle while Kyle grips the other, and we heave the heavy container through the doorway into the back hall of the house.

As soon as the door swings open, a wave of warm vanilla, rich chocolate, and tantalizing spices wraps around me in welcome. My mouth waters, and my stomach rumbles with hunger.

"Holden's been baking all day." Kyle drags in a deep breath and releases it with a groan. "He's been going all out for our guest."

"Oh, did they already arrive?" Over the past two months, I've been off the island more often than not, schmoozing up to investors, and had completely forgotten about the soft launch. "Everything going okay with them?"

"So far so good, from what I've heard," Kyle says. "She's a quiet little thing, but I think Holden might have a wee crush."

"Why do you think…that…" I trail off as we round the corner into the kitchen, and I spot the sideboard, which groans under the weight of cakes, pies, cookies, and pastries. "Sweet mother of mercy."

Kyle laughs at the abundance of sweets. "You might need that loan, after all, if he keeps going through ingredients at this rate."

"There's only one guest, right?" I ask, unable to tear my eyes away from the display.

After a week of fancy restaurants and hotel buffets, I've missed Holden's home-cooked meals. I lick my lips, eager to sink my teeth into a few of the raspberry scones I spot poking out of a basket. Those are my favorite.

"Wipe the drool off your chin and get back to work." Kyle gives the cooler a little shake to remind me we still have a job to finish.

With effort, I look away from the sideboard and help Kyle heave the ice chest onto the countertop with a grunt.

"Let me grab my dinner, and I'll be out of your hair." Kyle pops open the lid and hooks a finger into the gills of the salmon on top. "Come to Daddy, you beauty."

As he turns to head back in the direction we came from, I yell after him, "I'll just take care of the rest, then?"

He gives me a thumbs-up before disappearing around the corner. A moment later, the sound of the door opening and closing drifts back.

Drawn to the sideboard, I flip open a tea towel and pluck up one of the scones. The tender crust is still warm, and when I take a bite, it melts in my mouth. I groan and reach for another with my free hand.

Nothing beats Holden's scones.

Speak of the devil. Holden bustles in from the dining room, a bowl of apples cradled in his hands. His hazel eyes light up with happiness when he spots me standing there, and he sets his armful next to a container of brown sugar on the island.

"Welcome home, Dominic!" He comes over to give me a quick once-over. "You look good."

"Thanks." I pull him into a tight hug, breathing in the comforting scent of his vanilla cake pheromones. "I've missed you, man."

He hugs me back, chuckling softly. "Are you buttering me up so I'll deliver dinner to your room?"

"Maybe. But seriously, it's nice to be home." With another squeeze, I release him. "What's with all the baking? Are you trying to fatten us up?"

He laughs as he steps back. "I see you already found the scones."

"Sure did." I shove the rest of the tender biscuit into my mouth and talk around it. "Are you working your way through your entire pastry book?"

"I have to make the most of having someone new to test my recipes out on." His hands move to his hips as he takes in the abundance of sweets. "I can always send what we don't eat down to the construction site. The workers never have a problem finishing our scraps."

"Not these." I snatch up the basket of scones. "They're mine."

Crinkles form at the corners of Holden's eyes as an appreciative smile lights up his face. "I made them special for you."

"You're my favorite. You know that, right?" My stomach rumbles in agreement. "I've missed your cooking, Holden."

"I've missed you, too. There are leftovers in the fridge if you want some protein with your pastry." He bustles over to the island and pops open the cooler to peer inside. "Kyle brought in a big catch."

I trail after him. "He suggested you smoke some to soothe the savage beast."

"So, you already heard?" He moves around the kitchen, pulling out supplies and scooting the pie ingredients down the counter for later. "Such a nasty man."

I grab one of the apples. "What's Maxwell done now?"

"Same thing as last time." He lifts out a salmon and lays it on his cutting board to filet. "He's still pushing for us to combine phase one and two, getting under Nathaniel's skin and making him question the plan."

Anger sizzles in my blood. "Sounds like it's working."

Holden's hand tightens on the knife. "We just have to keep reminding him that his father doesn't have our best interests at heart."

"No, he doesn't." Maxwell would be thrilled to see us fail.

"That bastard is so…" Holden takes a deep breath, and his fist loosens. "I want to take Nathaniel for a visit with my family to surround him in a loving environment and remind him of what real parents are like, but he won't leave the island until the construction is finished."

Unlike the rest of us, Holden didn't grow up rich, and the only expectations his mom and dad have are for him to be happy.

When he brought me home to greet his parents after our pack bond formed, I kept up my guard. It took several more visits to realize their generosity and acceptance didn't come with any strings attached, and I know Nathaniel had an even harder time.

But now, the Wrights have become the surrogate family for us, teaching us what it means to be a true pack, brought together through bonding. They've shown us what it means to love and support each other.

I circle the counter to wrap an arm around Holden's shoulders. "Then we'll invite your parents here once our guest leaves, yeah?"

His stiff muscles relax. "Yeah. Let's do that."

I press my nose to the side of his head, breathing in his sweet pheromones. "Give them a call and make the arrangements."

"I will." Holden elbows me into stepping back. "All right, out of my kitchen. I've got work to do if I'm going to filet all the salmon and start marinating the ones I want to put in the smoker."

"Fine, fine." I step back and reclaim my basket of scones, which I plan to eat with the apple for a late dinner.

Warmth spreads through my chest as I retrieve my suitcase and head out into the dining room. The warm wood paneling and banked fire ease the weariness brought on by my travels. This house, these people… This is my home, and the simple act of being back again fills me with an indescribable sense of happiness.

As I walk past the long, mahogany table, the sweet scent from earlier returns, stronger this time. It's an intoxicating aroma, like a sun-warmed garden.

I scan the room for the source, my focus flitting from the polished chandelier to the ocean-themed oil paintings lining the walls, but nothing appears out of place, and there's not a flower in sight.

Maybe I'm more tired than I thought, and Kyle's right. I've spent too much time in the city. My muscles ache with fatigue, longing for the familiar embrace of my bed after too many nights of sleeping in hotels.

I continue through the dining room to the grand staircase leading to the second story, and my nostrils flare as that sweet scent fills my nose once more.

Brow furrowed, I glance back at the long table near the kitchen, half expecting to see someone sitting there, but I'm all alone, the only sound coming from the clank of dishes in the kitchen.

Shaking my head, I begin my ascent, ready to unpack and stow my suitcase away for a while.