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Now, I fucking love cherries. Cherry pie is my all-time favorite thing to eat on the goddamn planet. Ophelia’s housekeeper, Greta—words I never thought I’d say—makes a killer cherry pie, and Phe steals it from her boys and brings it over every couple of weeks. I eat it almost daily at May's Diner. I could live on that shit.
But this cherry scent? I bring the fabric closer, breathing it in, practically inhaling every particle, every fiber. It's layered. Sweet, like maraschinos, with warm undertones, like black and amarenas. Warm, sexy, tasty as fuck.
My voice is gravel, the words heavy and stuck in my throat. "What… what is this?"
My alpha knows what it is. It sits there in the forefront of my mind, the obvious reason why my alpha was so sure Imogen was the one.
Cass rips the ribbon out of my hands. I don’t watch his reaction, burying my head in my hands, almost dizzy with the realization.
"Holy shit," Cass rasps. "Is this…? Is that Imogen’s?"
I peek through my fingers after scratching them over the shaved sides of my head, afraid to look at Red and discover I'm way off. But no, it couldn't be anyone but her.
Because that motherfucker’s still smiling. "It’s Imogen’s."
"And she’s…?" Cass shakes his head back and forth, at a loss for words as much as me.
"Ours. She’s our scent-match." Red takes a big step forward and snatches the ribbon from Cass’s hand, inhaling like he could breathe all of her in, just from this tiny scrap of fabric.
"I can’t believe this." Cass laughs, looking up toward the ceiling. "A fucking scent-match! This makes so much sense. God, all of it, her nesting with our jackets and shit, the way my alpha… wait. Wait. She’s on a fucking date right now?"
Red's grin stays in place. "Yup."
"And you just left her there? Why is she still with them? Why the fuck didn’t you bring her home?"
Red holds his hand up, counting off on his fingers. "Yup. Dunno. What was I gonna do, throw her over my shoulder and kidnap her?"
I shift uncomfortably, since the thought crossed my mind and the reason Red was delegated to talk to her without Cass or me.
"I mean… no, but come on. We're her scent-match, and she’s still going on dates with the mayor's pack, so I assume she’s still engaged? What the fuck am I supposed to do with that? We can’t compete with them."
Walking toward the one window in the room, the wall blank and scuffed and stained, Cass leans against it, highlighting how shit this future nest is.
At least Red's still grinning. "Don’t worry so much, bro, we’ll figure it out. I left her there because she asked me to. And she tried to tell us the other day but were too dense to fucking listen, that she isn’t marrying them. I don’t know what the deal is. Honestly, something sketchy is going on. But she promised she’d explain everything."
That perks Cass up. "When?"
"Tonight. Hopefully, she’ll come over after dinner."
"After her dinner date, you mean. With the mayor. Her fiancé."
"Bro, if you can’t stop being such a Negative Nancy, maybe go do some push-ups or something, clear out this aggro shit out before she gets here."
I snort a laugh, then haul my ass up to a stand. My brothers watch me warily while I exit the room and run down the stairs, through the common room, down the side door off the kitchen, and into the garage below. Grabbing a mallet, sledgehammer, and a few other things I can carry off the tool bench, I run back up the stairs.
The guys are still arguing, but now it’s about what to do when Imogen gets here, Cass worrying he needs to change his shirt or some shit. It’s funny.
Their argument turns into whether she might need a second dinner or if someone should go buy her a dessert or get snacks and groceries since our fridge is always empty, and then they realize the kitchen is a mess and someone needs to go clean up. I let them argue, running my hand along the far wall, tapping the sheet rock every few inches, the sledgehammer dragging on the floor with each step.
Red grinds out, "Bro, you need to chill out. She said she’s coming, so she’s coming."
"I don’t even have her phone number. What if she needs a ride or gets lost? I only drove her here that one time. I need to call Ophelia and get her number—"
Thwack. The sledgehammer plows through the wall in a satisfying crunch, just between the studs, the feeling of the hammer hitting the wall vibrating through my fingers. My brothers stop arguing, but I pick up the hammer and nail it again, this time snagging on a piece of the wall, and I tug, ripping a huge chunk of sheet rock back toward me.
Red clears his throat. "So, Iggy… wanna share with the class?"
They both come closer and stare at the hole peeking into my bedroom.
