Page 18 of Secret Heart
“Beau said you call her Penny? What’s her middle name?”
For the first time, her cheeks darken with a sudden blush.
It’s Beau who answers. “Michaela.”
“Michaela?” I ask.
Like… Michael? So few people know that’s my own middle name. Another brick weighs down my stomach. God, I want to vomit.
When he nods, I swallow. “After me?”
Emily’s flush traces down her throat. Her knuckles whiten around Beau’s hand.
As she drops her chin in a quick “yes”, a different voice cuts through the air.
“Knock, knock.”
The masculine timbre has me trying to reel myself in, trying to re-spool myself. I quickly wipe my face and blow out a breath, trying to erase all evidence of my reaction to meeting Penny. Years of spotlights and merciless para-social expectations make the process easier than it should be for an Omega. Not that it will matter since it won’t change Emily’s distress-drenched scent that’s still swirling around us. Someone grunts just outside the entrance to the barn.
“Everything all right?” Caleb asks cautiously.
He edges into view a heartbeat later, Brielle tucked into his side. Her eyes go from Emily to me before widening, her face draining of all color. She stops abruptly, forcing Caleb to pause, too, frowning at his bonded Omega. One look, and she understands.
How women communicate so effectively still terrifies me.
“We, uh, were sent to let you know dinner’s just about ready,” she says to the barn at large. “We can tell Lynn something came up, though.”
Penny wiggles against me, kicking her feet. This time when I ease her onto her feet, she doesn’t look at me at all. She toddles to the door and taps on Brielle’s leg. It’s Caleb who picks her up, arranging her so she can touch Brielle without making her carry any of Penny’s weight. His body is tight, coiled and ready to pounce, and I swallow down another whine as his cinnamon scent mixes with Emily’s vanilla. Was I not supposed to let Penny go to them?
Right. Brielle just had a baby. It’s surprising she’s up and about without Caleb and Ethan being over-the-top possessiveof her, to be honest. Penny smiles as Brielle kisses her palm and then blows a raspberry into it. The tension lowers, and Caleb relaxes. I manage to release my pent up breath and shove my hands into my back pockets to keep the fact they’re trembling from being public knowledge. No one moves, the silence lengthening again. After a minute, Caleb’s gaze switches between Penny and me, and I can see the moment the realization settles on him.
“Oh shit,” he mutters.
Brielle frowns and discreetly elbows him. It almost makes me laugh. Almost.
Instead, I clear my throat.
“Yeah, okay,” I manage to say. “Dinner.”
I run my hand down the back of my neck and breathe deep again. That itchy, gnawing ache only grows stronger under my skin, the exact way the Haven doctors warned it might. Beau steps away from Emily and grabs my elbow as I take a step toward the barn’s entrance. I bite back a whine. Brielle hones in on the move.
“We’ll run interference,” she says. She releases Penny’s hand. “Just come when you’re ready.”
My laugh is mirthless. Ready to face all of my friends after learning I have a daughter? I’m not sure there’s any length of time that’ll make me ready for that. Especially since I haven’t seen most of them for nearly two years and didn’t give any of them any kind of warning I was coming back at all.
I can’t help but look at Emily. Beau’s the only one that’s touched me, that’s come anywhere close to me this entire time. She’s staring hard at Penny, her face blank. Her scent’s not getting any stronger, either. If she wants to talk, it’s clear she doesn’t want it to be now.
“It’s…” I clear my throat again. “No, it’s okay. We can go now. Another half hour isn’t going to change anything.”
Chapter Eleven
BEAU
Caleb and Brielle start back to the Monroe farmhouse without another word, Penny still in my brother’s arms. I force Triston to stillness when he tries to follow them. He freezes, his entire body so damn tense. Emily’s just as tightly strung to my left, her death grip on my hand making it numb.
“We don’t have to navigate this tonight,” I tell them both.
Even if I can’t smell the exact edge to Emily’s vanilla scent, it’s obvious she’s emotional and volatile. Caleb wouldn’t have suddenly dropped into such a careful tone and paused at the entrance to the barn if her scent was communicating something happy. Triston’s not much better. Even though his own clove scent is hidden behind whatever scent-blocking technology he’s using, it’s clear enough that he’s a mess, too. His hand shakes as he runs it down his neck again, and his breathing is unsteady, like he’s having to make the active choice for each inhale.
