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“You sleep okay?” I rub my hand up and down her back, inhaling our mixed scents.

“So okay.” She smiles. “I feel like almost a whole person.”

I cock my head to the side a little at that comment. What does that mean?

Maybe it would be worthwhile to wake Mitch up just so we can have our big pack meeting now rather than later. Clear all the air, make sure we are all happy, that we know what expectations we have for our relationship and that we all feel safe.

“Clay, you’re either burning something, or you’re thinking so hard your brains turned to toast again.” She pokes my side, making me giggle of all fucking things until I release her.

Roan smiles at me, and the impending panic I felt fades away. She is right, though, something does smell too done. I pull open another oven door and yank the nipple cakes out of the oven.

Rather than being a soft light blue colour with one plump blueberry at the centre, the cakes are a little more purple with a black mark in the middle. Roan makes a noise of interest, gathering up her hair to lean over and smell them.

“These look incredible.” She inhales again. “Are these for something special?”

“No, I just felt like making something a little different.”

My Omega watches silently as I place a dozen loaves of bread into the paper flour sack I saved for Ted’s order today.

She seems content to simply sit and enjoy the view before her, which makes me more self-conscious than I thought it would.

I take the bread out to Ted, pour Jeremy and myself a cup of coffee, then drop a tea bag into a mug of hot water for Roan.

She perks up when I set the mug in front of her, her fingers tapping the hot ceramic as it brews.

I pass her a milk carton, trying to gauge how big of a splash she likes before putting it away again.

Hearing her sigh into that first sip is how I want to start every morning: my Omega content, smelling fresh and sweet while I work.

“Thank you for the tea,” she murmurs after a little while. “I know it’s a faff, but it means a lot.”

“I don’t know what that means, Omega. But I’ll always do what I can to make you happy.” I pull on a clean pair of gloves.

“What if I want one of your pirate cakes?”She looks from me to the cooling disasters and back again.

A smile creeps up my lips. I’m more than happy to oblige that request. I pull a small plate down and put two cakes on it for her.

She makes a noise when I’m near her, turning her face up to mine.

She’s got that little sparkle in her eyes that’s probably my imagination, but I love seeing it, seeing her all bright and happy.

“What can I do for you, sugar?”

“A kiss would be nice… please.” She grins, tacking on that please almost sarcastically.

I smirk, unable to help myself either. I lean down until we’re almost touching. Her hands flex around her mug, but I have to keep mine at my side. “What kinda kiss?”

Roans cheeks flush, but she doesn’t miss a beat. “One that says good morning, love, thank you for not glassing a customer this morning.”

My shoulders shake with laughter, but I do as she requests. My lips meet her slowly, lazily, lingering and teasing all at once, until I hear the back door open.

“My kissing senses are right,” Mitch huffs like a child who still wishes he was in bed. He’s half-dressed, slippers on. I might make an earlier riser out of him yet, if it means he has no one to cuddle in the morning.

He shuffles over to Roan and kisses her. His hands wrap around the nape of her neck and she goes practically limp in his quick embrace. When Mitch is satisfied our girl is ravished, he promptly looks at me like I’ve offended him.

“That is how we kiss our Omega,” he says.

I look down at the batch of pain au raisins I need to finish and strip my gloves off. Like hell will I be shown up. Roan’s rosy cheeks look like fresh apples as she turns her gaze back to me, ready and waiting.

I slip one hand into her hair at the base of her neck and use the other to grip her chin. “Is that how you wanna be kissed, sugar? You want your Alpha to take your breath away before you've even had breakfast?”

“He should certainly try,” she taunts, putting out that bottom lip.

Like the first kiss of the morning, I start off slow.

I'm not going to rush our passion and hunger for each other when I know we can rut into oblivion.

This is just stoking the coals for later, keeping everyone's blood a little hot for the work day.

My tongue slips between her lips, and she whimpers.

The press of her body into mine is so perfect, so soft and generous.

She blinks when I pull back, that dazed little look doing wonders for my confidence.

“Beta,” I grunt.

I'm not faster with Mitch, not harder. My fingers grip his fur when I kiss him slow and deep. His tail thumps hard when I lick his mouth. Gods damn it. I’m teasing myself just as much as I am them.

He chases after me when I break our kiss.

“Don’t tempt me, you two,” I grumble. “No more threesomes until we have a thorough discussion.”

Both of them groan, but I imagine it's for different reasons. Roan still seems anxious talking about her desires, and Mitch is always happier following gut instinct in personal matters, which has previously got us banned from the movie theatre two towns over.

His idea of making everyone comfortable is simply going with the flow, addressing an issue as it appears. I can't operate that way. We can't fuck around and find out how we all work best, especially not when our Omega's new to this.

I pull up a stool for Roan and Mitch gets his from behind the counter.

“Now,” I say, pulling on another pair of gloves. “Let's talk wins and fumbles from last night.”