Page 34 of Puck Your Bunny

I turn onto her street and spot the fading yellow house. A landscaping crew hacks away at the front bushes. I pull my car into the cracked concrete driveway right behind a massive flatbed truck. I put the Porsche in park and kill the engine. I grab the stuffed paper bags, balancing two in each arm, and walk up the concrete steps to her front porch. I step toward the welcome mat to set them down and ring the bell.

The front door swings open before I can set the bags down.

A streak of orange and black fur darts through the gap.

"Cali, get back here!" Vayda grabs the edge of the door.

The cat scales my jeans. She digs her claws into my jacket and scrambles up to my shoulder. I chuckle, shifting the paper bags to handle her weight. I scratch the calico behind her ears. She purrs against my neck.

Vayda stands in the doorway. She wears an oversized blue sweater and faded jeans. Her red hair sits piled in a messy knot on top of her head. The silver roots frame her face. Dark circles stain the skin under her blue eyes. She still looks stunning. I grip the paper bags tighter. I want to drop them and pull her against my chest.

She stares at my face, then drops her gaze to the stuffed bags in my arms. She crosses her arms over her chest. Her slumped shoulders scream tired resignation, a big shift from the terrified energy from two days ago.

Kel came back to the penthouse this morning smiling like the cat who got the canary because she let him sleep on the couch. They hadn’t even done anything. He even met Brendan. A bitter pill of jealousy burned in my gut all morning. Kel plans to spendthe afternoon hammering the privacy panels into her new fence. I need to wedge my own foot in the door today.

"Simon." She lets out an exhausted sigh. "What are you doing on my porch?"

"You need food." I hold my ground, giving Cali another scratch. "Those protein bars kept you alive during your Heat. You broke the bond rejection sickness, but you lost too much weight. Seeing you this thin hurts my soul. You need real food to get your strength back."

She rubs the bridge of her nose.

"I let Kel build the fence." She eyes the bags in my arms. "I draw the line at letting you buy my groceries."

She glances at the brown paper bags. Her eyes snag on the bright red mangoes and the shiny foil bags of her favorite coffee sticking out of the top. Her tense shoulders drop. She stares at the expensive food.

She lets out a long breath and reaches into the back pocket of her jeans. She pulls out her cell phone.

"I owe you for the groceries." She taps the screen to unlock it. "I lack the cash for the landscaping, but I can cover this. What's your CashApp? I prefer paying my own way."

I shift the bags and reach out. I push her hand down, covering the screen with my palm.

"Keep your money." I meet her gaze. "I bought this. It's a gift. Let me carry these to the kitchen and help you unpack. Give me five minutes. I promise to walk right back out that door when the bags are empty."

Vayda chews her bottom lip. Her eyes dart between my face and the fresh produce. Her grip tightens on her phone. She wants to kick me out, but Brendan needs the fresh food.

She takes a step back and opens the door wider.

"Five minutes." She points toward the kitchen.

I step past her into the cramped entryway. Cali leaps from my shoulder, landing on the floorboards with a soft thud. The scent of medical wipes and her sweet lavender fills the air. I walk straight into the outdated kitchen and set the stuffed bags on the scuffed linoleum counter. Vayda follows me into the room. She stands on the opposite side of the island, keeping a wide berth between us.

I pull items from the paper bags. I stack the canned goods and the boxes of pasta on the counter.

"We can make this easier." I grab the bags of coffee and set them near her machine. "We have the cash to take the edge off your stress. We can handle the grocery runs and the house repairs. You can focus on Brendan."

Vayda grabs a stack of cans. She faces the open pantry. She sets the cans on the shelf with a loud thud.

"You think buying expensive coffee fixes my reality." She grips a box of pasta. "You guys throw cash at problems until they go away. My life requires constant work. It takes round-the-clock care. You have hockey games and road trips. You will get bored of playing home nurse."

I load the fresh produce into the refrigerator crisper drawers. "Money fixes the broken driveway. It buys you the time you need to breathe. We want a place in your life. We want to fit into your routine. We plan to adapt to you."

Vayda turns to face me. She points to the messy knot on top of her head.

"Look at my silver roots, Simon." She steps toward the island. "You three are in your prime. You have puck bunnies throwing themselves at you after every game. Young Omegas with zero baggage. You will wake up next month and regret tying yourselves to an aging woman and a disabled Alpha."

I shut the refrigerator door. I step up to the opposite side of the counter.

"We want you." I lock my eyes on hers. "We crave a mate with lived experience. Those arena girls break under this kind of pressure."