My first impression of Esme’s mother was that they didn’t look much alike. While Esme’s wavy brown hair was wild, and sometimes untamable, her mother was blond, with her hair pulled back in a slick style suited to who she was. But even their features were different. I’d seen pictures of Esme’s father, and it was clear both she and Eva resembled him far more.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Hi, sweetie.”
I spotted the tension in the hug, and the relief in both of them when they relaxed. No matter what fights you had with your parents, something about hugging them could always bring you back to center.
At least that was the way it was with my family. I couldn’t wait for Esme to meet them.
“This is the,” Esme hesitated, and her face turned to panic. We’d never talked about our pack name, and she didn’t want to look like she didn’t know the most basic thing about us.
“The Nautilus Pack,” Ben filled in smoothly, stepping up to shake her mother’s hand. “We’re honored to meet you.”
She didn’t look so sure, but she shook Ben’s hand politely. “Eleanor Williams,” she said. “Please call me Eleanor.”
“I’m Bennett Gray,” he said. “But most people call me Ben.”
Esme reached out and took his hand, pulling him inside, but kept watching the introductions. “Rylan McBride,” he said. “We’ve been really excited about this. Thank you for inviting us.”
“Of course,” she murmured.
I couldn’t help but feel like we were in a receiving line at a formal function. It was already clear Eleanor was far more reserved than her daughters. Or at least she was that way with us.
“Kade Porter.”
Her mother flinched and tried to hide it. Kade was used to it, but I was still grateful Esme was behind her and hadn’t seen the reaction. Even knowing we were fine with any outcome, my little Omega was a bundle of nerves. She was wound so tight I thought her spine would snap.
“Luke Holloway,” Luke said. “Thank you for the invitation. You have a beautiful home.”
She looked him up and down and smiled. “I’ve heard rumors you have one as well.”
“I don’t know if it’s on the same level as this place, but it’s home.”
Finally, Eleanor’s eyes fell on me. I smiled at her. “Avery Quinn, at your service.”
She shook my hand lightly, and I passed her into the house. The doors closed behind us and she dusted her hands off like she wasn’t quite used to touching things like doors. “Now that the slight awkwardness is finished, dinner is served.”
“Oh,” Esme said. “Sure.”
Maybe there was normally a different protocol? Drinks and cocktails first? I wasn’t sure. But she was clinging to Ben’s hand hard enough her knuckles were white. All I wanted to do was wrap her in a hug and tell her it would all be fine.
That part would have to come later.
The dining room was gorgeous. Something out of a decorating magazine. Hell, if Addison was let loose in this house she would have a fucking field day.
White walls with old style molding in rectangles which gave texture without being intrusive. A couple of beautiful landscape oil paintings, and a set of large French doors which led out onto a slate patio overlooking a lush garden.
The table itself was beautiful too, set with food and drinks. I couldn’t tell immediately what the meal was, but it smelled amazing.
“Where is everyone?” Esme asked. “Where’s Arnold?”
Eleanor waved a hand. “After Alicia finished cooking and everything was laid out, I sent everyone home. Since it’s just us, I didn’t think a lot of ceremony was needed.”
“That’s kind of you,” Luke said, pulling out Esme’s chair. But I was watching her face, and she went pale after her mother said it.
There were landmines here we weren’t fucking aware of. We were going to do our best, but tonight, Esme was going to be in my bed. My instinct to protect her was out of control, and the only thing keeping me from walking around the table and having her sit in my lap was the thought of having her near me later.
“Please help yourselves,” Eleanor said. “Would you like some wine?”
“Wine sounds great,” Rylan said. “Would you like me to pour? I can.”
She looked surprised. “That would be lovely. It’s behind you.”
Rylan was up on his feet, and I smothered a smile. He uncorked the wine with ease, and Eleanor watched, stunned, as he poured her a perfect glass. He smiled at her and moved around the table. “I was a waiter through school. At Troisgros. I don’t think I’ll ever forget how to pour wine.”
“My, I haven’t been there in a while. It’s a lovely place.”
“Yes, it is.”
Which was a fucking understatement. Troisgros was one of the finest restaurants in Slate City. The kind of place with a months-long reservation list and people who traveled simply to eat there.
Rylan had waited tables because the money was good, and he wanted to do as much as he could to minimize his debt. But right now? All he was thinking about was making it easier for Esme.
Kade reached forward and pulled the top off the first dish, unleashing a wave of delicious aroma. “It smells incredible, Eleanor,” I said. “Thank you.”
She took a sip of wine and smiled. “My cook, Alicia, is the best there is. I never eat poorly. One of the indulgences I allow myself.”
Esme was looking down at her plate, and I recognized the posture from when we’d first met her. She was locked up, unable to get out of her own head with nerves.
“So tell me about yourselves,” Eleanor said. “Esme told me you are tattoo artists.”
“Yes,” I said. “We are. Ben, Rylan, and myself began as classically trained artists and moved into the field, while Kade and Luke started out in the trade.”
“Interesting. And what made you leave the traditional field?”
Ben took the dish from Kade and served Esme before serving himself. “That’s mainly my doing. We formed our pack at school, and after my parents passed, I got one in their honor. I fell in love with it and these guys followed me.”
“I’m sorry to hear they’ve passed.” Eleanor inclined her head.
“You might know them? Roy and Kelly Gray. I know my father was a huge fan of your late husband’s work, Mrs. Williams.”
She looked stunned for a moment. “Yes. I did know them. You’re their son? My, it’s been long enough I forgot they had children. A sister too?”
“Correct.”
Rylan finished his circuit of the table with the wine, and the food gradually made its way around. But no one spoke for a minute, and the silence was painful.
“Besides our occupation,” Kade finally broke the silence, “is there anything else you’d like to know about us? We’re incredibly happy to be courting your daughter, and we’re equally happy to answer any questions.”
Esme’s mother didn’t touch her food, but she took another sip of wine. “My other daughter, Eva, says you’re well known. Is it true?”
Kade nodded. “Yes, it’s true. I could be humble about it, but I won’t be now. Success is partly luck, but it’s also talent and hard work. The five of us are some of the best in the business, and just like Troisgros, our waiting list is months long.”
“I think it’s actually closer to a year now,” Luke said. “We might consider bringing in an artist who isn’t pack to help stem the tide. But it might not get better. Eva has an interesting idea for a possible show involving the studio, and we’re eager to see where it goes.”
“My Eva?”
Esme cleared her throat. “Yeah. Eva wants a tattoo from Ben. It’s how she tricked me into going to the studio to meet them. Set up an excuse to go get a consultation and shoved me in the door.”
Luke chuckled. “I don’t remember the shoving.”
“It was a mental shove.”
Her mother stared at her. “You had to be tricked into meeting them? I thought you were scent-sympathetic.”
“We are.” Esme’s words were careful. “But I was… nervous. For obvious reasons. You know exactly why, Mom. Don’t pretend you don’t.”
Ben cleared his throat. “When I met your daughter, it was clear we were compatible. I immediately showed her scent to the rest of the pack, and we agreed it was something we needed to pursue. It was instant and strong. We would have pursued her sooner, but we didn’t have her contact information.”
Eleanor looked around the table. “Might I ask why you didn’t think to come to me first?”
I looked at Esme, whose wine glass was halfway to her lips, her eyes closed in exasperation. “Because the way most packs court is by asking the Omega, Mom. Not jumping through hoops of a matchmaker. And they asked me. When they told me they wanted to court me they asked me if there was anything special they needed to do, and I told them no. So if anyone’s to blame, it’s me.”
“I’m not blaming anyone,” Eleanor said.
“Mrs. Williams,” I said, drawing her eyes to me. “I’m unfamiliar with the interview process you must have been doing for other packs, but we’re happy to do what you need us to.”
She stood and walked out of the room abruptly. We all froze, but she was back in a few seconds with some file folders in her hands. “No need. I had my matchmaker produce files for each of you with the information she could find. I hadn’t looked at them yet, because I didn’t want to give myself unnecessary bias.” She glanced at Ben. “Otherwise I would have known whose son you were. I’ll look through them and let you know my decision.”
Esme’s mouth dropped open, and she looked at all of us. This was about to spin very badly, and we only had a few seconds to pull it back.
Luke cleared his throat. “My apologies, Mrs. Williams. I want to clarify one thing about what Avery said. We’re willing to do what you need us to in terms of getting to know us. We have nothing to hide. But what we aren’t doing is asking your permission to court Esme.”
The words fell heavily into the silence.
“I see.” She smiled, but it wasn’t entirely real. “In that case, tell me about yourselves. Beyond your job description. I’m sure it will be more interesting than reading it.”
Esme breathed, body relaxing, and the atmosphere eased too. Not nearly enough, but it felt like there was air in the room again.
In the time we’d known her, I’d never noticed Esme’s scent turn bitter. The rich scent of tea was like a cup had been brewing all day and it was so dark all the good flavor was gone. Of course, we could scent her far more deeply and with more nuance than others, but how could her mother not sense the change? Surely she could tell the difference.
Everyone had a note which shifted with their mood. It was both a blessing and a curse. You could tell when someone was having a bad day, but you also couldn’t hide it.
A horrifying thought struck me as Rylan started talking, telling Esme’s mother about himself.
Did her mother not notice because this was always the way she smelled in her presence? Filled with anxiety bordering on pain?
Esme loved her mother. It was crystal clear. But loving someone didn’t make a relationship easy. Sometimes it made it that much harder.
I needed to ask her.
We went around the table and gave our basic history. The styles of tattoo we specialized in. A little about our families.
Eleanor listened and smiled, nodding the entire time. I was sure to most people it seemed warm and welcoming. But I wasn’t judging based on her actions. I was watching Esme’s reactions, and my little Omega was… cautious. Very clearly not comfortable, though not wound quite as tight as she had been.
Finally, Eleanor turned to Esme. “And work is going well?”
“It is. I’ve got a few new paintings I’m working on, and everyone loves the exclusive paints. They can’t get enough of them.”
“I’m glad you’re happy,” Eleanor said, rubbing her fingers along the stem of her wine glass. “And you know—”
“Yes,” Esme said quickly. “I know. Thank you.”
The rest of us shared discreet looks, not having any idea what she was talking about.
Downing the little left in her glass, Esme stood. “This is the guys’ Sunday night, so we should let them get some sleep before they tackle their long waiting list.”
“Of course.”
We all made our way to the door, and I couldn’t help but feel like we were walking on glass that was already cracked and just waiting for us to fall through it.
We shook hands with Mrs. Williams. I would have hugged her if I thought she would accept it, but her handshake was warm, regardless. “It was very nice to meet you.”
“You too. I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of each other.”
She just smiled.
It was starting rain, and the rest of us stepped back to let mother and daughter have a moment. I heard snatches of the conversation—something about lunch next week, and maybe about Eva, but nothing more.
Esme’s eyes were focused on the ground all the way to the car, and inside it, she didn’t say anything. Beside me, she looked out the window as we started to drive.
“Your mom is nice, Esme,” Ry said quietly.
“Yes,” she choked out. “She’s nice.”
Then, under her breath, she said. “She’s always nice. Always so fucking nice.”
