Chapter 127

Chapter 127
Fiona’s POV

The smell of Linda’s cooking was enough to pull me out of the deepest sleep I’d had in a long time. I stretched and stared up at the ceiling of Blake’s room, the warm sheets tangled around me making it very tempting to stay put. But whatever was coming from downstairs smelled incredible, so I dragged myself up, freshened up, and made my way down.
"Good morning, sweetheart,” Linda called out without turning around.
I still wasn’t used to that. “Morning,” I said, settling onto a stool at the island.
"What time is it?” “Just past ten.” She set a plate of pancakes in front of me and turned back to the stove.
I blinked. I hadn’t slept that late in a while.
“Where’s Blake?” “Out with his father. He’ll be back before your dad arrives, don’t worry.” She waved her hand dismissively before pausing.
"You’re overthinking tonight.” I looked up. “I’m not—” “You are.” She turned with a knowing smile. “Your father is going to love it here.
So eat your pancakes.” I stared at her for a second before laughing. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a little terrifying?” She grinned. “Blake tells me every single day.”
By evening, the dining table looked like Linda had been planning this for a month. Good china, candles, enough food to feed twenty people.
I stood at the bottom of the stairs in the burgundy dress Sara had forced on me and just stared. “It’s a bit much,” Blake murmured beside me, his hand on the small of my back.
"A bit?” I whispered. “I tried telling her that. She looked at me like I’d personally offended her so I stopped.” I bit back a smile. “Smart man.” The sound of a car in the driveway cut our conversation short.
I moved toward the door but Blake caught my wrist and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Relax. It’s going to be fine.” I let out a slow breath and nodded. My dad came through the door in his nicest button-down, hair combed, bottle of wine in hand.
He took in the pack house with wide eyes before finding me and smiling. “Hey, bug.” “Hey, dad.” I hugged him quickly. “You look nice.” “I stood in the wine aisle for twenty minutes,” he muttered. Westley greeted him warmly and then Linda appeared from the kitchen, apron in hand, with that smile of hers that disarmed everyone within seconds.
My dad was no exception. I watched him go from guarded to completely at ease before she’d even finished introducing herself. “I’ve heard so much about you,” she said, taking his hand. “I’m so glad you’re finally here.
Now come, there’s way too much food for four people and I need help with that.” My dad glanced back at me over his shoulder. His expression very clearly said I like her. Blake caught my eye and smiled. “Told you.” I rolled my eyes and took his hand.
Dinner was easy in a way I hadn’t expected. My dad laughed at Westley’s dry humor, held his own with Linda’s rapid fire questions, and looked more relaxed than I’d seen him in a long time.
It was going perfectly. Until my childhood came up. “She carried this stuffed rabbit everywhere,” my dad said, eyes bright. “Wouldn’t leave the house without it.”
"Dad—” “She named it Captain.” Blake lost it beside me. Full, unguarded laughter that I would have found incredibly endearing had it not been at my expense. I elbowed him hard.
"l was five,” I said firmly. “She was seven,” my dad corrected. I buried my face in my hands while the table erupted around me. Blake found my knee beneath the table and squeezed it, still laughing softly. When I finally looked up, my dad was watching me with that quiet expression he only got when he thought I wasn’t paying attention.
Settled. Content. He caught my eye and smiled. I smiled back.
It was past nine when he finally said his goodbyes. Linda sent him home with enough leftovers to last a week and he didn’t argue once.
Blake walked him to his car while I stayed on the porch, listening to the low murmur of their voices without trying to make out the words. My dad clapped Blake on the shoulder before driving off and Blake made his way back up the steps. “What did he say?” I asked. “To take care of you.” He paused. “And that he still meant what he said about hunting me down.” I laughed. “Sounds right.” He pulled me against his side and we stood there as the tail lights disappeared down the road.
Inside, Linda was humming and Westley said something that made her laugh. It felt exactly like where I was supposed to be.
Then Blake’s arm tightened around me. It was subtle, but I knew him well enough now to feel the shift before I saw it. His jaw tightened, his eyes fixed on the tree line across the road.
“Blake?” “Go inside,” he said. Calm, but firm.
"What’s wrong?” He looked down at me, smoothed his expression, and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Nothing. Just go inside, love.”
I searched his eyes for a second before stepping through the door. But just before it closed behind me, I caught it.
A scent. Faint. Foreign. And unmistakably close.