Page 152 of Scent to the Feral Cowboys

My lips parted in silent understanding as the reality dawned on me. She was creating a dance space.

The realization hit me like a physical blow. How desperate must she be for this? To spend hours in the early morning moving heavy equipment, risking splinters and rusted nails and God knows what else, just to carve out a small space where she could dance again? The ache in my chest intensified. We'd torn her from her life in Seattle, and yet she was still fighting to preserve pieces of herself, to maintain her identity despite everything.

Sweat darkened her borrowed shirt as she worked, sticking copper tendrils of hair to her temples and neck. Yet she never slowed, never hesitated. This was the resilience of someone who'd lost everything but refused to be defeated.

This woman, my Omega, was a goddamn powerhouse.

When she finally stopped, the center of the barn had been transformed. A circular space about fifteen feet in diameter now stood clear of debris, its floor swept reasonably clean with an old broom she'd found leaning against the wall. She stood at the very center of her creation, chest heaving from exertion. The satisfaction on her face was unmistakable. Nelly glowed with pride as she wiped her arm across her slick forehead.

When she headed toward the exit, I ducked quickly around the corner of the barn. My body swelled with joy, because Nelly had claimed a bit of Sagebrush for herself. That had to mean something. My Alpha scent was heady, my brain yelling at me to run to my Omega and wrap her in my arms and tell her how damn glad I was that she existed, that she was here, that she’d found this old barn. Instead, I quickly and quietly moved all the way behind the barn, hoping she wouldn’t smell me.

The barn was hers now. I wouldn’t let anybody, not even God, take it away from her.

But it wouldn’t be enough, not forever.

I’d give her a proper studio. I’d give her back her dream.

35

WYATT

Four days later…

No response from Eros.

At lunch, Nelly ate faster than usual.

She kept glancing at the back door, barely contained energy humming beneath her skin.

I knew what had rushing, knew where she was planning to head after eating.

The other guys just watched her, fascinated by this whiplash change in the way she devoured the chicken bacon tortilla wrap.

“Want more, Nell?” Coop asked tentatively, not wanting to push her too hard after what went down at breakfast.

She froze, the half-eaten wrap hovering near her mouth. Her eyes flicked down to it. “I’m eating like a pig, aren’t I?”

In a rush, every single one of us went into action and showed her exactly what eating like a pig looked like.

Boone snatched two more wraps, and a handful of the homemade kettle-cooked chips, packing the grub back like he’d not eaten in a year’s time. Wade stuffed the rest of the chickenwrap he was holding into his mouth, his cheeks puffing out comically. Levi picked up his lemonade, lifting it to his lips and tipping it back to slurp noisily, sucking down the entire thing in one go. When he placed the glass back down with a clink, he swiped his long sleeve against his wet mouth and smiled. And Cooper… Well, Cooper took the rest of the sliced chicken, tossed in every piece of leftover bacon he had, generously drizzled half a bottle ranch, and, after a brief pause, added a small handful of mixed greens as an afterthought. He walked over to the dining table, positioning in full view of Nelly, and he began eating straight from the mixing bowl using a serving-size fork.

Nelly watched us all act like fools, her mouth dropped open in surprise.

And then she laughed that glorious fucking laugh of hers.

I swear to God, it could call sunshine in the middle of a tornado.

That laugh was like a drug I couldn't get enough of. Watching the wild abandon as she tossed her head back, ginger hair slipping over her shoulders, food still clutched in one hand, made every shadowy place in me fill with light.

"You guys are ridiculous," she said, wiping at the corner of her eye.

"Mission accomplished, men.” I raised my glass in a mock toast to my pack brothers before taking a sip of my lemonade. "And for the record, I don’t think you could eat like a pig even if you tried.”

Her cheeks flushed slightly at that, and she took a small bite of her wrap. "Thanks, Wyatt."

"So," Wade ventured, once we'd all settled back into normal eating patterns. "What's got you so eager to bolt?"

Nelly's eyes flicked toward the door again, that same nervous energy returning. “Just, things.”