Chapter Nine
Jared
The morning mist creeps across the harbor water, coiling around the pilings of Pinecrest dock. I breathe in the salt-thick air and let out a long sigh.
My hands wrap around the travel mug Emily filled for me before I left, her kiss goodbye warming me more than the coffee ever could.
Early morning has always been my time. Even as a kid, I’d slip out of bed before dawn to watch the fishermen prep their boats, learning knots and tides before I could tie my shoes.
Now, standing on the weathered planks that creak beneath my boots, I savor the quiet before Pinecrest fully wakes.
Emily never sleeps in. In the months since I moved in, I’ve made it my mission to beat her to the kitchen, sliding pancake batter onto the griddle while she’s still stretching awake.
Not even on vacation does she sleep in, instead insisting on getting up with me to eat breakfast and see me off at the door.
I take a sip from my travel mug, the coffee strong enough to make my eyes water. Emily doesn’t believe in weak coffee any more than she believes in cutting corners on a job site. It’s one of the thousand things I love about her. Her stubborn insistence on doing things right or not at all.
The night of the party plays in my mind on repeat. Her warmth in my arms, the way her body responded to mine, and then the words that slipped out afterward. Not quite a proposal, but close.
I hadn’t planned to bring it up that way. I’d rehearsed a dozen ways to approach the subject, none of them involving being locked together in the most intimate way possible. But seeing her there, trusting me with her body and her vulnerability, the words tumbled out before I could stop them.
The memory of her stillness afterward forms a ball in my stomach. It wasn’t a rejection, at least. I know Emily well enough now to recognize when she’s processing rather than refusing. But her caution, and the careful way she thanked me for not pushing, revealed just how deep Auren’s damage runs.
My fingers tighten around the mug, and I force them to relax before I dent the metal. Thinking about Auren always sends protective rage coursing through my veins with nowhere productive to go.
He took a woman whose instinct is to nurture, to protect, to build, and twisted those qualities against her. Made her believe that loving deeply was a weakness to exploit rather than a strength to treasure. Convinced her that her Alpha nature meant she had to be an island, strong and untouchable, when in reality, the best Alphas find their power magnified through connection, not isolation.
The distant purr of an outboard motor draws my attention to the water. The morning mist parts as the water taxi cuts through it, still too far away to make out details but moving at a clip toward the dock.
I check the time on my phone. Right on schedule for the first crossing of the day from Misty Pines.
I roll my shoulders, loosening the tension that always knots between my shoulder blades whenever I think about Auren.I want to build something real with Emily that honors her strength rather than trying to contain it. A partnership where we both grow stronger because we’re together, not despite it.
And she wants that, too. I feel it in the way she relaxes into my touch when we’re alone, in how she’s started asking for what she needs instead of assuming she has to handle everything herself. The walls are coming down brick by brick.
If I need to be patient while she dismantles them at her own pace, then patience is what I’ll give her.
The sound of tires on gravel pulls my attention to the parking lot behind me, where a sensible sedan pulls into a space near the Misty Pines dock. I squint against the morning glare reflecting off the windshield until the driver’s door opens and Leif steps out, his broad frame unfolding from the car.
He doesn’t spot me at first as he squints out toward the water. The morning light catches in his mauve-colored hair as he straightens, highlighting the subtle purple undertones that identify him as an Omega.
The sight of him sends my thoughts to last weekend’s party and his abrupt departure when Carson arrived. Emily’s worry has become mine as he locks his car, then double-checks the handle with the habitual motions of someone who’s learned to be cautious.
Is it my place to ask? To check if he’s okay? I barely know the man beyond casual interactions on the island and at community events. Yet his reaction to Carson, the way he paled and left the party, struck a chord with me.
I recognize fear when I see it. Not the momentary startle of surprise, but the deep, visceral response to a genuine threat.
The water taxi’s engine grows louder as it approaches the dock, drawing Leif’s attention in my direction. Our eyes meet across the distance, and he offers a wave of acknowledgment as he starts toward the dock, his long stride eating up the ground.
Behind him, the morning sun burns through the last wisps of harbor mist, turning the water to hammered silver. I finish my coffee as I wait, considering how to approach him without backing him into a corner.
Emily would know what to say. She’s got an instinct for handling people with the right mixture of directness and grace.
Then again, perhaps the straightforward approach is best. Not pushing, just opening a door the way I did with Emily. It’s up to him if he wants more.
The thought steadies me as Leif draws closer, and I decide to follow my instincts. Sometimes the best support isn’t finding the perfect words but simply letting someone know they’re not alone.
“Morning. How’s hotel life treating you?” I call out to Leif as he approaches, keeping things casual.