Page 26 of When She Needs Them Most
But I am.
And it all spills out.
Every thought in my mind, until I’m just rambling and repeating myself. “...Do you know how much pressure I feel to justnot die? Like, I better live another thirty years, minimum,because if I don’t, my kid will be alone.” My eyes burn, and I gasp as it feels like it’s impossible to catch a full breath. “And I can eat healthy and exercise, and be extra careful while driving, but shit still happens, and I need to live for a bare minimum of eighteen years, because if I don’t, she won’t have anyone.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” His huge palm comes to rest on the back of my head, and he pulls my nose to rest in his throat. “Soak up some pheromones and just breathe.”
His scent is complex, and my nose roots around, trying to pick out each piece. It’s a citrus-based smell, but there are salty tinges, almost like the beach. A salty, beachy, lemon scent. It doesn’t make any sense, but it’s fresh and clean andlovely.
He smooths his hand up and down my back in a tender touch that makes me clutch at his shoulders. “You’re okay.”
The fat tears I’ve been holding back burst out, leaking all over his skin. “I’m so sorry. I’m totally losing my shit. Everything is overwhelming, and I’m trying. I really am, but I feel like a failure.”
“Nah, you’ve just had a lot of changes all at once.” He keeps his tone soothing. “It would be a lot for anyone. Let alone an omega.”
A loud knock sounds against the bedroom door, and my muscles tense.
“Come in,” Linc calls out.
I bury my nose deeper in his skin and pretend to be invisible. It’s a very omega-like reaction, but I’m a hot mess right now and don’t care.
“I checked out the unit; it needs a deep clean. I could do that today, but that thing is ancient. I’m going to call Mrs. Wilson to get the okay to order the parts. They should be in by Friday.” The repair man clears his throat. “Monday, at the latest.”
“Thanks, Ed,” Lincoln says. “So, you’ll do the cleaning when you install the replacement parts?”
“That’s the plan,” Ed agrees.
“Okay, if you can put a rush on the delivery, we’ll gladly pay for it,” Lincoln says.
“I’ll text you after I get approval from the homeowner,” Ed says. “I’m headed out, but I’ll be in touch.”
Lincoln thanks him, and the door closes as the heavy footfalls of the man’s boots head down the hallway.
“On the bright side, at least it doesn’t need a whole new furnace?” He chuckles. “Sorry, I’m trying to find something positive, but I know that’s not what you wanted to hear.”
“Thank you for trying. And for letting me cry all over you.”
“It’s nothing.” He tenderly pats my lower back. “Would you like to grab some clothes and have a shower over at my house?”
The space heater kept the room decently warm last night. I could move it into the bathroom or the doorway, and it would probably heat up the space enough that I wouldn’t be freezing when I got out.
“Afterward, I’ll show you my favorite little diner in town.” Linc chuckles. “They serve breakfast all day. And we can stop by and check out where the grocery stores are. You really do need the full tour.”
I bite my lip, thinking it through. He’s right. I’ll need to buy groceries as soon as possible, and I’m unfamiliar with the area. “Okay, that sounds great.”
Blacksburg is charming. It’s not actually the closest town, which I only realize on the drive in, but it’s the closest city with a variety of the types of things I’ll need. The downtown area has a small-town vibe that I’m not used to, but being inside Linc’struck makes it difficult to focus on anything except how his scent permeates the air when the heat is on.
The businesses are all decorated with Christmas cheer, and my heart thumps wildly. I’ve already made the choice not to worry about decorating this year, but the holiday is still a while away. Who knows, maybe I’ll break down and get myself a tiny tree.
My phone buzzes in my lap, and I pull it up to see there’s a text from Kase. Opening it, I frown before a silly bubble of laughter escapes my lips.
It’s a picture of his driver’s license and a text.
My sister said it’s a safety thing to have a picture of a guy’s driver’s license. Email it to yourself or send it to a friend. I’m not weird, I swear.
Linc pulls into the parking lot of a small diner. Once he has the truck in a spot, he turns to face me. “What’s got you all giggly?”
“Kase just sent me this.” I flip my phone around.
