Sugar Coated

49

Jax Sinclair

Now wasn't the time to make anything extravagant, though everything inside me said that was exactly what I should be doing. I looked to Andres, who in turn was looking at me as if either of us had a reasonable answer as we stood awkwardly in the kitchen that we both would have told you we'd known like a second skin.

"Food?"

I nodded, "Food."

We're fucking Neanderthals.

I dug my phone out of my pants pocket, I'd left the work slacks on all night while we were in the spare bedroom and the phone had stayed along with them. I swiped the lock screen off on autopilot. Still no response from Bea.

I was about to get to that point where I'd start blowing up her phone, only this time it wasn't me trying to track her down on a late night after I'd covered for her sneaking out to our parents. It was a different flavor of panic this time.

"--earth to Jackson," Andres' voice pulled me out of my swirl of thoughts. When my attention settled on him he pinned me with a look, "Any ideas?"

He was always better at cooking, with normal foods. Baking was science and math, all measurements and reactions, but cooking had a heart to it a soul and Andres had that in spades.

But also soul took too much time when we had not one but two omegas in distress.

Two omegas. The thought staggered me as I stepped into the kitchen which now felt foreign to me. Two omegas with an unsatisfied pair bond.

I almost dropped to the floor, "She's an omega, Andres."

Andres blinked at me, his thoughts buffering for a second while he tried to backtrack to where my thoughts were lodged, "That idea was mine initially but by all means claim it as your own."

A host of emotions sheered through my mind and I reached out and grabbed the first one, elation. It wasn't right of me or kind of me to be as excited and as happy as I was while our omegas were stuffed under the bed because of a state of distress that I was the unfortunate mayor of.

But, by god, the happiness had me in a headlock ready to choke me. What were the chances?

"Jackson get your smug alpha hormones out of your ass right now and help me, or I'm going to grab one of your stupid protein bars and offer it up as a tithe to the most beautiful little monsters under the bed right now."

Right...food. We were looking for food

It was well past morning at this point, so something lunch-ish was probably the right choice and she had to be starving, Em too since they'd stayed huddled under the bed all of yesterday and into today, not once coming out for air. So it's going to have to be something filling but it can't take forever...or we could bring snacks to tide them over while we cooked.

"Take them snacks for now," Andres rifled through the cupboard and grabbed an armload of protein bars before he shot back off towards Delaney's room. I on the other hand was staring into a very unhelpful fridge. I had sourdough bread for days. I'd made it while I was agonizing over whether or not she'd move in with us. Sandwiches?

Our lunch meat selection was woefully inadequate, not the kind of meat this pack specialized in, unfortunately. But we did have a pack of chicken breasts.

Andres re-entered the kitchen as the cogs in my brain finally fired back into motion. Chicken Salad Sandwich.

I felt him glancing over my shoulder at the ingredients I had stacked in my arms, "He scoffed at me."