Page 9 of Nesting With My Three Alphas (Hollow Haven #1)

Kit

I arrived at Micah's bakery two minutes early, trying not to look like I'd spent an embarrassingly long time picking out my outfit.

The soft lavender sweater and dark jeans felt right, but my racing pulse suggested my omega instincts had very different ideas about what this "friendly coffee" really meant.

Through the bakery's front windows, I could see him moving around inside, flour dusted across his forearms, sleeves rolled up to reveal the corded strength I'd noticed before.

He was wiping down counters with the methodical care of someone who took pride in his work, and something about the domestic scene made my chest go warm.

The bell chimed as I pushed open the door, and he looked up with a smile that felt like a deep breath after a long time underwater.

"Perfect timing," he said, setting down his cleaning cloth. "I was just finishing up. How are you feeling? Recovered from Charlie's dinosaur education?"

"Completely overwhelmed by Cretaceous period facts," I said, matching his easy tone. "I had no idea there were so many varieties of terror birds."

"Charlie's very thorough in her research." Micah moved behind the counter, his movements fluid and confident. "Coffee? And before you say 'whatever's convenient,' I'm not giving you the dregs from the afternoon pot. Let me make you something proper."

I watched as he worked the espresso machine with practiced ease, steaming milk to exactly the right temperature, creating something that smelled like heaven and looked like art. The care he put into it, the attention to small details, felt like a gift I wasn't sure I deserved.

"Vanilla latte with an extra shot," he said, sliding the cup across the counter. "Unless you prefer something else?"

"This is perfect." I took a sip and nearly moaned with pleasure. "Oh wow. This is incredible."

"Good." His smile was soft, pleased. "Ready for the grand tour of our metropolis?"

"Lead the way."

Micah grabbed his own coffee and a light jacket, then held the door for me as we stepped out onto Main Street. The afternoon sunlight was warm but not harsh, and a gentle breeze carried the scent of woodsmoke and autumn leaves. Perfect weather for wandering.

"So," he said as we started walking, "where should we begin?

The bookstore that doubles as an unofficial town meeting place?

The general store where Mrs. Patterson knows everyone's business before they do?

Or the park where Charlie likes to hunt for fossils that are definitely just interesting rocks? "

"All of the above," I said, surprised by how easy it was to fall into step beside him. "I want the full Hollow Haven experience."

We started with the bookstore, a cozy space crammed with books that smelled like old paper. The manager, a beta woman named Claire, greeted Micah like family and me with curious but friendly interest.

"So you're our mysterious new neighbor," she said with a grin. "Micah mentioned you stopped in the other day, said you had great taste in muffins."

"Did he?" I glanced at Micah, who had the grace to look slightly embarrassed.

"Only good things," Claire assured me. "He mentioned you might be interested in our book club. We meet every other Thursday, and we're always looking for fresh perspectives."

The casual invitation, the assumption that I'd be sticking around long enough to join groups and make commitments, made something flutter in my chest. "That sounds lovely."

"Excellent. Micah has my number if you decide you want in." She rubbed a hand over her round pregnant belly. “I’ll be going on maternity leave from the store soon, but I’ll still be dropping into the book club. If you can’t reach me, Hollis who owns this place, can fill you in.”

We left the bookstore with a small stack of books by local authors Claire had insisted I "simply must read," and continued our wandering tour.

The general store was exactly as advertised, a place where Mrs. Patterson held court behind the register, dispensing advice and gossip with equal enthusiasm.

"Micah, sweetheart!" she called as we entered. "And this must be Kit. I heard you've been causing quite a stir."

"Causing a stir?" I asked, genuinely confused.

"Reed was in this morning, going on about security systems and proper locks. Jonah stopped by for Charlie's favorite cereal and mentioned family dinners. And now here you are with our bachelor baker, looking absolutely lovely."

I felt heat rise in my cheeks. "I'm just getting to know the town."

"Of course you are, dear." Mrs. Patterson's smile was knowing but kind. "Micah, you make sure you show her the overlook. Best view in town, especially this time of day."

As we left the store, Micah shook his head with fond exasperation. "Small towns," he said. "Privacy is a foreign concept."

"They seem to care about you," I observed.

"They do. It took some getting used to after city life, but it's nice having people who notice if you don't show up where you're supposed to be."

We walked through the small park, where a playground sat empty in the afternoon lull and walking paths wound between ancient oak trees.

Micah pointed out Charlie's favorite fossil hunting spots and the bench where the high school kids liked to sit after school, sharing the kind of local knowledge that only came from truly belonging somewhere.

"There's the overlook Mrs. Patterson mentioned," he said, gesturing toward a path that led up a small hill. "Want to check it out?"

The climb was gentle, winding through trees beginning to show autumn colors. At the top, a wooden bench faced out over the valley, offering a view of Hollow Haven spread below with mountains rising in the distance.

"Oh," I breathed, sinking onto the bench. "This is beautiful."

"One of my favorite spots," Micah said, settling beside me with careful space between us. "I come up here sometimes when the bakery gets overwhelming, or when I need to remember why I chose to stay."

"And why did you choose to stay?" I asked, turning to study his profile.

He was quiet for a moment, his gaze fixed on the view.

"Because it felt like a place you could grow roots, not just patch holes," he said finally.

"After Laura left, I was just... surviving.

Going through the motions. Liv brought me here thinking it would be temporary, but something about this place made me want to try again. "

"Try again?"

"To build something. To be part of something bigger than my own damage." He looked at me then, his brown eyes warm and serious. "What about you? What made you choose Hollow Haven?"

The question was gentle, not pushing, but it still made my chest tighten. "I needed somewhere quiet," I said carefully. "Somewhere I could figure out who I was without... external pressures."

Micah nodded like he understood exactly what I wasn't saying. "External pressures can be hell on the soul."

We sat in comfortable silence for a while, sipping our coffee and watching the town below. A few cars moved slowly down Main Street, and I could just make out people walking on the sidewalks, living their quiet lives in this place that felt like a snow globe version of what home should be.

"Can I ask you something?" Micah said eventually.

"Sure."

"What did you do before? For work, I mean. You mentioned design."

The question was innocent enough, but it still made my shoulders tense.

"Marketing design, mostly. High-end clients who demanded perfection and weren't particularly kind about mistakes.

" I picked at the cardboard sleeve on my coffee cup.

"It was... intense. High pressure. Not much room for creativity, just executing other people's visions. "

"That sounds exhausting."

"It was." The simple validation, the lack of judgment, made something loosen in my chest. "I used to love creating things, but somewhere along the way it became just another way to disappoint people."

"People who demand perfection without allowing for humanity usually end up disappointed," Micah said quietly. "That's their problem, not yours."

"Easy to say, harder to believe," I admitted.

"I know." His voice was gentle. "After Laura left, I spent months convinced I wasn't ambitious enough, driven enough, successful enough. It took time to remember that those were her definitions, not mine."

The parallel he was drawing, the way he offered his own vulnerability without making it about him, made my throat tight with unexpected emotion. "How do you get past it? The voice that tells you you're not enough?"

"Slowly," he said. "And with help. This town, these people, they reminded me that worth isn't about grand achievements or impressive plans. Sometimes it's just about showing up consistently, caring about small things, making someone's day a little better with the right pastry."

I found myself really looking at him then, taking in the genuine warmth in his expression, the way he spoke about his life here with quiet pride rather than defensiveness. He wasn't trying to impress me or prove anything. He was just... himself. Content in his own skin in a way I envied.

"You're easy to talk to," he said, as if reading my thoughts. "That's rare."

"Is it?"

"In my experience, yes. Most people are performing some version of themselves. You feel real."

The compliment hit deeper than it should have, probably because it was exactly what I'd been afraid I'd lost. The ability to be genuine, to connect with someone without calculating every word.

"Thank you," I said quietly. "For today. For making me feel like..."

"Like what?"

"Like myself. For the first time in a long while."

Something shifted in Micah's expression, a warmth that made my pulse quicken.

We were sitting closer now, the space between us somehow smaller.

His scent curled around me, warm bread, cinnamon, and something deeper.

My own scent responded before I even realized it, softening with contentment, recognition. Safety.

"Kit," he said softly, and there was something in his voice that made me look up, meet his eyes directly.

The moment stretched between us, charged with possibility. He lifted his hand, fingers brushing against my cheek so gently I might have imagined it. The touch sent sparks down my spine, and I found myself leaning into it without conscious thought.

His thumb traced across my cheekbone, and I saw his gaze drop to my lips for just a moment before returning to my eyes. The question there was clear, patient, waiting for my answer.

But the intimacy of it, the tenderness, was so different from what I'd known that it startled me. I pulled back slightly, not in fear but in sudden, overwhelming vulnerability.

Micah's hand dropped immediately, his expression shifting to gentle understanding rather than disappointment. "No rush," he said quietly. "I like spending time with you, whatever that looks like."

The reassurance, the complete lack of pressure, made my chest ache with gratitude. "I'm sorry, I just..."

"Don't apologize. Not for setting boundaries." He settled back on the bench, giving me space while staying close enough that I didn't feel rejected. "We have all the time in the world."

All the time in the world. The phrase felt like a promise, like maybe there really was space here for me to heal at my own pace without rush or expectation.

"We should probably head back," I said reluctantly, noticing how the light was starting to change. "I don't want to keep you too long."

"You're not keeping me," Micah said, but he stood and offered me his hand to help me up. "But you're right, dinner prep calls."

The walk back to town was quieter but comfortable, the easy conversation of the afternoon settling into something warmer, more intimate. By the time we reached the bakery, I felt lighter than I had in months.

"Thank you," I said as we stopped in front of my car. "This was exactly what I needed."

"Same here," Micah said with a smile. "Maybe we can do it again sometime? I never did show you the greenhouse behind the bakery."

"I'd like that."

He reached out like he might touch my hand, then seemed to think better of it. "Drive safe. Text me when you get home?"

"I will."

I was halfway to my duplex when I noticed the black sedan parked on a side street. The model was different from Marcus's usual car, but the tinted windows were the same. My stomach clenched, that familiar spike of adrenaline flooding my system.

The car didn't move as I drove past, but I could feel eyes on me. By the time I pulled into my driveway, my hands were shaking.

But this time, instead of spiraling into panic, I reached for my phone and did something I couldn't have imagined doing a week ago. I texted Micah.

Thanks for today. I felt like myself for the first time in a long while.

His response came within minutes: Anytime you need a reminder, I’m here.

I stared at the message, feeling that dangerous warmth spread through my chest again. Maybe the black sedan was still out there, maybe Marcus was still calling. But those threats felt manageable now, not because they were less real, but because I wasn't facing them alone.

I had Reed's security system, Jonah and Charlie's fierce protectiveness, and Micah's steady presence. I had a town that was starting to feel like it might want to keep me.

Maybe that was enough to grow something real.