Well, I know why.
I like control too much.
And that’s a flaw, not a virtue, in this line of work.
11
Vera
“Can I help you with dinner?” I lean against the counter as Eli is chopping cucumbers.
There’s a big stack of vegetables and meat on the counter on his other side. The other kitchen staff are here to help him, but even then, that’s a lot of food to prepare and I want to do something that doesn’t require too much from my brain right now.
He turns to me, smiling, though it’s tired. “Do you want to chop or cook?”
“Chop.” It means less thinking and less chances of me accidentally hurting myself by touching something I’m not supposed to, and I don’t want to hang over a pan that might make me feel sick or even warmer than I already feel.
“Grab any of the veggies, chop small. You know where everything is.” He watches me grab what I need and then goes over to the other staff, checking in with them.
I go for the courgettes first, they’re nice and easy. I stack them next to my cutting board and start cutting them into small cubes. First, slicing into disks, then stacking the disks to cut them into strips and then cubing those strips. It’s simple work that I don’t have to think about.
By the time I’ve done four of them, Eli comes over, putting his cutting board next to mine, moving onto tomatoes. “How are you keeping up?” His voice is quiet, though it’s not like it’s easy for the others to overhear us in the noisy kitchen.
“I don’t know. There’s a lot going on and I haven’t had time to really think about all of it.” I throw some more courgette cubes into a bowl, taking a few moments to stare at them.
“And your pregnancy? Going okay today?”
I nod. “I’ve mostly been fine.” I let out a soft laugh. “I’m glad that the baby doesn’t seem to mind blood, or last night would have been a lot worse.” I don’t want to imagine what would have happened if I’d also gotten sick on top of the rest of the mess in that room… That would have been horrible to clean.
That makes Eli smile too. “I guess the baby takes after Caleb, because Jorge isn’t that good with blood.”
I flash him a grin. “Or maybe my genes are more dominant.”
“With you, I wouldn’t be surprised by that either, you have a habit of taking over places. And I mean that in the most loving way possible.” Eli laughs and then looks at a point behind me.
When I follow his gaze, I find Mathew in the doorway, wearing summer suit pants and a light dress shirt that shows the shadows of his tattoos underneath. His long black hair is still damp from the shower, so it reaches well past his hips, and he’s barefoot.
Eli steps closer to me, leaning in conspiratorially, making Mathew glare. He drops his voice so only I can hear him. “Like you’ve taken over Mathew’s life. Before, he would never have walked around the house barefoot, or have worn a dress shirt that didn’t fully hide his tattoos. It might not look like much, but these are good changes.”
Heat flashes in my cheeks and I can’t help the way my pheromones flare, making Eli laugh.
He steps away from me and returns to his chopping. “Are you here for a reason, or are you just going to stare at your Omega from the doorway? I would prefer if you didn’t do the latter, it tends to make the other kitchen staff nervous.”
“Pretty sure it’s my house...” Mathew strides inside, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me against him, possessive, claiming me.
“And I’m pretty sure that you put me in charge of the kitchen.” Eli doesn’t even take his eyes off the tomatoes, he keeps talking while he works. I guess he’s used to working with distractions, from how often I’ve found his Alphas sitting at the kitchen table, chatting to him.
“Fair enough.” Mathew lets out a short laugh, his arms around me relaxing a fraction. “I’m here for my Omega, I need her for something. You can have her back after, if she feels like it.” Mathew nuzzles my neck, making me melt against him.
“She knows she’s always welcome.” Eli turns to me, winking.
“Thanks.” I smile, glad that mates being possessive are just another expected occurrence in Eli’s daily life, and turn in Mathew’s embrace. “What do you need me for?”
Mathew lifts me up and carries me out of the kitchen, crossing his office and then sits us both down in one of the chairs outside, me in his lap. He leans slightly back, pulling a face, like it’s painful.
“What’s wrong? Do I smell bad?” I don’t think that any of the scents from the kitchen —from the food or the pheromones— are things that Mathew doesn’t react well to right now. I try to slide from his lap, but he quickly grabs hold of me, keeping me in place.
“No. You smell amazing.” He kisses my shoulder before he leans his head against it, letting out a long sigh. “Promise not to laugh?”
