Paul moves to talk to someone else, and Lincoln’s eyes fix onto me.
“What?” I ask, looking at him.
“You don’t have to leave once your car’s fixed,” he says quietly. “The job, our offer of letting you crash with us, that’s yours for as long as you need it. Until you can get back on your feet and feel a little more comfortable.”
Cora catches sight of someone walking by with a dog just then, and makes noises as she tries to climb up onto one of the chairs to see better. Without taking his eyes off me, Lincoln helps her up, keeping a hand on her shoulder so she doesn’t topple over in her excitement to see the fluffy brown dog.
“There’s no strings attached or anything,” he continues.
Cora looks up at him with wide, warm eyes, and while it’s not the same way she looks at me, there’s definitely trust in her gaze. My stomach twists with anxiety. It’s good that these men are good to her. If they weren’t, I’d go back to the motel and take my chances there in a heartbeat to keep them away from Cora. But at the same time, I don’t want her to get too attached to them. We can’t afford to get attached to anyone or any place. We have to keep moving.
So leaving sooner rather than later is better. The longer we stay here, the stronger the ties will be, and it’ll be harder for both of us to leave when the time comes.
And it has to come.
“Thank you,” I tell Lincoln. “But no. We have to move on as soon as we can.”
Lincoln doesn’t argue, but there’s a look on his face that says he doesn’t like that answer.
With the disappointing update, we head back to the house. I start to get ready for my shift, but Cash stops me.
“You’re not on tonight,” he says. “Laurina’s got it covered.”
I’ve met one of their other employees a couple times. She seems like she’s steady and good at the work. Cash, Lincoln, and Everett mostly have management positions, even though all three of them sometimes take shifts working behind the bar when they need to.
“Are you sure?” I ask. “I can go help her out, I don’t mind.”
“It’s fine,” Everett says. “Tuesdays are the slowest nights. It’s only Thursdays, the weekends, and Mondays that get busy.”
“Why Mondays?”
“Because everyone wants to drown their sorrows from being back at work,” Cash says with a grin. “But don’t worry about it tonight. You deserve a break, Harper. You’ve been working hard.”
I don’t argue with that. It’s nice to have some time to spend with Cora, and to not feel like I’m always pushing her off onto Lainey to deal with.
The guys also stay home tonight, dealing with paperwork and making dinner. Cash mans the stove, frying up pork chops and potatoes that fill the house with the savory smells of garlic and onions. He hums as he works, and it feels so homey that I almost feel like I’m intruding.
We all sit down to dinner together, and it’s odd how natural it’s starting to feel to share meals with them. I offer to do the dishes, but Lincoln waves me away, so I go upstairs and help Cora through getting ready for bed instead.
She snuggles up with her elephant, and I read her a story from one of the books Everett found. Usually, it takes at leastthree stories to get her to go to sleep, but usually we’re in some shitty motel where it’s never quiet and she doesn’t feel safe.
Now she drifts off before I’m even done reading, and I sit there for a while longer, carding my fingers through her dark curls.
As temporary as this arrangement has to be, I can’t help but be grateful that Cora has a safe, warm place to sleep right now. She definitely deserves it.
I head back downstairs to make myself a cup of tea before I go to my room, but I hear laughter and voices coming from the living room. The three Alphas must be done with their various evening tasks, and are just sitting around, hanging out.
I’m working on getting used to seeing them like this, relaxed and carefree, outside the bar, but it still hits me every time I do. Their scents are mingled in the living room and throughout the house, a permanent reminder of just who lives here.
“Hey, Harper,” Cash says when he catches sight of me. “Come sit with us.”
“Oh. I was just going to make some tea before bed, and?—”
“It’s too early to turn in for bed,” Cash interrupts. “Please?” He puts on his version of puppy eyes, which makes me snort with amusement.
“I work until midnight every night,” I tell him. “It’s never too early for bed.”
“She has a point,” Everett says.