Faith & the Dead End Devils (Sweet Omegaverse, #8)(131)

45. FAITH





“Little longer," I said, my head leaned against King's shoulder.

"These eggs are burnt," he grumbled.

"I like them burnt. Wet eggs are weird," I answered, shrugging against him.

He sighed and stirred the scrambled eggs with his spatula once more. "Now?" he asked, a hint of pleading in his tone.

"You wanted to know how I like my eggs and I'm showing you," I said, grinning. "Ten more seconds."

He remained stiff at my side, and I could almost hear his thoughts counting grumpily down from ten. When his hand twitched to pull the skillet off the burner, I interrupted him.

"Now turn the heat off and let them cool in the pan."

"You like burnt cold eggs?" King asked.

"With ketchup," I added, turning to beam a smile at his scowl.

He shuddered. "Ughhh."

Chance tapped on my shoulder and I turned to face him, a mug of coffee held out between us. I glanced at its surface and then offered him a smile. "Paler."

Chance's eyes narrowed. "They don't make a shade of coffee paler than this. Do you just want milk?"

But he turned and marched back to the creamer.

"How are the trainees?" Bear asked me, entering the kitchen. He smirked as he found King sullenly keeping an eye over my eggs and Chance grumbling over my coffee.

"Improving," I said with a nod. "How's Ghost?"

"A natural, actually," Bear answered cheerfully.

I crossed to him, wrapping my arms around his middle. "You're a good teacher."

"A good pack knows how to please their omega," Bear said.

"Our omega may need to have her tastebuds refined," King muttered.

"Says the man who likes to eat a hot dog on a dry bun," I answered, not bothering to lower my voice. "The whole point is what toppings you like."

"Come on, go have a seat and I'll get these two in line," Bear said, patting my ass and nudging me toward the kitchen door.

It was early morning, and Rider's coronation party had taken place the night before, so most of the club was still sleeping it off. My pack had been more subdued, for obvious reasons. We would be leaving the club soon, but King had stayed to help with last-minute adjustments. So far, Rider was being what King called “tolerable” about the help.

I grinned as I found my brother and his pack sitting at a long banquet table put together by a bunch of the square tables around the bar. Ghost's task for the morning was ambience, and truth be told, I hadn't known what to expect.

Beer bottles ran down the tables as vases, each one holding three brightly-dyed daisies. He'd picked out paper plates with a blue floral trim and black handkerchief napkins. There was glitter confetti scattered over the table, and Ghost was holding out a chair for me, a small wrapped box waiting on the paper plate.

It was silly and sweet, and it was for me.

"We said no presents," I said, walking to Ghost.

He raised his eyebrows. "You said no presents. And we'd been working on this one before we found out today was your birthday."

I blushed, resting my hands on Ghost's chest and rising to my toes. He bent his head for me, smiling into the kiss. I'd been vaguely aware of my approaching birthday, but we'd had bigger things on our plate and it had snuck up on me in these past couple weeks since shit had blown up. Adam had been the one to spill the beans at last, cornering my pack to quiz them on their plans.

King was still peeved I hadn't said anything myself.

Whatever clean-up Adam's pack had done at Preston Bower's home, it had worked. It helped that there'd be a wealth of evidence linking the Wasted's meth dealings with the Bowers pack. I wasn't sure how much was true and how much was elegantly crafted by Eve and Adam. It seemed like even the officials knew the world was better off washed clean of those men.

"Sit," Adam urged. "We have presents for you too."

I laughed, pulling away from Ghost's greedy kisses, sliding into the chair he'd offered me. "I think you've all done enough," I said to the group.

"We're omegas, we like to be spoiled," Adam said with a wave of his hand.

Coming from my brother, who had steadfastly rejected his biology for as long as I'd known him, the words were a surprise. He'd reconciled himself to his designation—accepted it, even. Largely because he'd found a pack that allowed him to be himself as an omega.

I'd found a pack that allowed me to keep searching for myself, willing to follow me to whatever destination that search might discover.

"Okay. One plate of cold, ruined eggs and limp bacon for the birthday girl," King announced, marching through the door with Bear and Chance helping him carry steaming pans of food. "And a perfectly respectable spread for the rest of us."

"Thank you," I cooed, pulling my present aside so he could load my plate. A bristly kiss ruffled the top of my head before he pulled away.

"Happy birthday, princess," he whispered.

Chance placed my creamy coffee down and then took his seat on my left, waggling his eyebrows. "Open your present."

"Shouldn't I wait?" I asked.

"Your eggs are cold anyways," Bear pointed out, lips twitching.