Morris stared at Jaysan, not understanding the young omega’s words at all. They didn’t make any sense. He knew who Jaysan was from the news, knew he’d been one of the fight ring omegas, and he also knew through Ronin and Kell that Jaysan had given up his son immediately after birth. But that didn’t make Aeron Jaysan’s.

He couldn’t be.

Could he?

The longer he looked at Jaysan, the more he saw Aeron in his dusky skin, hair, and big, round eyes. The shape of his face and nose. And Aeron was absolutely taken with Jaysan, holding onto Jaysan’s finger in a sure grip, never looking away from the omega’s face.

But what were the odds? What were the crazy fucking odds that of all the omegas Kell brought to his doorstep today, it was Aeron’s omegin? And that Jaysan was, if Morris’s nose didn’t deceive him, also Morris’s bondmate?

No, the bondmate thing could be addressed later. Right now, Morris needed to get a handle on the situation. He released his grip on Jaysan’s elbow—and no, his hand was not cold and missing that lovely contact, thank you—then reached for Aeron. Kell reluctantly handed over Morris’s nephew, and Morris took a deliberate step away from Jaysan.

Jaysan flinched as Aeron lost his hold on Jaysan’s finger. Aeron’s face scrunched up in displeasure.

“I don’t understand,” Morris said.

“I gave birth to him,” Jaysan, more strength in his voice now. “I gave birth to my son the same day you said Aeron was born, and I gave him up the exact same way your brothers adopted Aeron. I thought it was best for him, but I’ve spent the last few months regretting it. Missing him. Mourning the boy I’d never get to know, but this is him, Morris, I feel it in my bones. I’ll take any DNA test you want to prove it.”

“I don’t care about DNA.” A flicker of anger lit beneath Morris’s breastbone. “You aren’t taking him away from me. I have full, binding custody of Aeron. He’s all I have left of Morgan and Brody.”

“No one is taking Aeron away from you,” Kell said. “This is a huge shock to us all. I swear, I had no idea Jaysan was Aeron’s omegin when I suggested he help you with child care. I swear on my own son’s life.”

“I believe you.” Kell didn’t have a devious bone in his body, so no, Morris didn’t think this was a setup. Aeron squirmed in his arms, both hands flailing toward Jaysan, and he recognized the signs of an oncoming fit. Nervous and curious, Morris asked Jaysan, “Do you want to hold him?”

Jaysan’s eyebrows went up. “Really?”

“Sure. I mean, you never have, right?”

He shook his head, those pretty dark eyes glimmering with tears. “I didn’t want to at first, and lately I’ve been dreaming of holding him just once. Please?”

The stark desperation in Jaysan’s broken voice released something inside of Morris that demanded he take this omega’s pain away. Make it better. Keep him safe. But Morris didn’t know Jaysan at all, and Jaysan had given the boy away once.

No, Aeron was safe enough, and he seemed desperate to reconnect with the omegin that the one-year-old somehow instinctively recognized and needed—especially with his other parents dead.

So Morris gently eased Aeron into Jaysan’s arms and hoped for the best.

Jaysan didn’t try to stop the tears flowing down his cheeks as a warm, chubby body connected with his. He held Aeron close to his face and pressed his lips against the boy’s forehead. Inhaled the scent of him. Memorized the way Aeron felt as he held his son for the first time in their lives. A son he never, ever expected to see again, because Jaysan had made the colossal mistake of giving him away.

“Hello, little man.” Through tear-hazy eyes, he took in every single detail about his baby. The way his hair curled in tight ringlets, the tiny scar on the back of his left hand, the perfect rows of tiny teeth. Ten tiny fingers, ten tiny toes. “Oh, I’ve missed you.”

His whole body started shaking with emotion, and Kell helped him sit on the couch with Aeron in his lap. Aeron stared back at him, utterly fascinated with the omega in front of him. Then he squealed out a belt of bright, baby laughter, and Jaysan smiled.

“It’s amazing how he seems to know you,” Morris said. “Like you haven’t been apart for a moment.”

“Branson was the same way,” Kell said. He was kneeling in front of Jaysan and grinning ear-to-ear. “He was only ten days old when Krause gave him away, and it was months before I saw him again, but he knew me. The moment I held him again in the hospital, he knew me and I knew him. Even though he’d grown so much, changed so much, I was his omegin. We always know.”

“Omegins and their children have special bonds?”

“We do. Ronin’s own omegin? He has an ability to sense his children. One night early in my case, he called Ronin because he sensed his son was distressed, and they talked it out. Very few have that ability, but we’re still connected to our children in a unique way.”

Jaysan tore his gaze away from Aeron long enough to glance at Morris, who looked sad. Then again, Morris had lost two family members only a few days ago; he had every right to look sad. Except it seemed deeper than that, but it wasn’t Jaysan’s place to ask. He’d known Morris a grand total of ten chaotic, life-changing minutes.

And he really wished Morris hadn’t sat next to him, because that sweet basil scent was distracting, and he didn’t want any distractions from this moment. He had his son back.

Except…no, he didn’t. His son was in his lap, but Morris had very bluntly stated that he had full, legal custody—something Jaysan had deliberately signed away while caught in the throes of depression and anxiety over his captivity and abuse. He was too broken to be a good parent to Aeron or any other child. He shouldn’t be around a stranger’s son, much less his own.

With a sob, Jaysan gave Aeron back to Morris and fled for the front door.

“Jaysan?” Morris said.

He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t fucking do this, and he burst outside into the cool spring air. Air that did nothing to calm him or cool his blazing skin. To stop the sudden sobs ripping from his chest and throat, and he fell to his knees on the grass, clutching at his heaving stomach.

“Jaysan?” Kell pulled him into a solid hug, and Jaysan didn’t fight it. “Shhh, I’ve got you. We’ll figure this out, okay?”

There was nothing to figure out. Maybe he’d found and held his son, but the boy wasn’t his. He was Morris’s, and there was no way Morris would want a hot mess like Jaysan around his nephew. Jaysan had no real skills, other than beating other pregnant omegas senseless, and he hadn’t even been very good at that, losing six of his eight total fights. He didn’t have a job, could barely cook and clean, and he was so…used.

But how could he walk away again, knowing Aeron was here? Knowing Morris needed a governor for the baby and Jaysan needed a new place to live. The universe was giving Jaysan a gift, wrapped up in a neat little bow, and Jaysan wasn’t strong enough to accept it.

But what if I am?

Kell shifted away, and that tantalizing basil scent washed over Jaysan an instant before a blanket fell over his shoulders. And then strong arms scooped him right up, and Jaysan relaxed into Morris’s hold. His tears calmed while Morris carried him into the house and back to the couch, where he sat with Jaysan still wrapped up on his lap. The position should have embarrassed or infuriated Jaysan, but it didn’t.

He felt safe there, and he hadn’t felt truly safe in a long, long time.

On the other side of the living room, Branson and Aeron were in the pack-and-play, shaking some toys. Kell handed Jaysan a box of tissues, which he used to right himself and blow his nose. Morris massaged the back of Jaysan’s neck in a touch both gentling and grounding, and it had the very real possibility of putting Jaysan to sleep.

“What was all that about?” Morris asked.

“Got overwhelmed,” Jaysan replied. His head was resting on Morris’s shoulder, and good goddess, he shouldn’t be this comfortable on a stranger’s lap. Especially one who smelled so good, felt so good, and held him exactly the way Jaysan needed to be held.

He’s alpha. He’s dangerous.

Except Morris reminded him more of a big, red-headed teddy bear, than a predator who’d use and abuse him. And Kell wouldn’t have brought Jaysan here if Morris was dangerous in any way.

“I have somewhat of an idea how you feel,” Kell said from the arm of the couch. “When I saw Branson again for the first time, it felt like a piece of me that was painfully broken had snapped back into place.”

“Yeah.” But his meltdown had been about more than how right Aeron had felt in his arms. It had been about his own past and abuse and feelings of inadequacy. When Kell got Branson back, he’d already met and made promises to his bondmate. Jaysan didn’t have a mate, and Morris had made no indication he planned on sharing Aeron with Jaysan.

Then again, Jaysan hadn’t asked yet.

“I feel better, thank you,” Jaysan said.

“Are you sure?” Morris asked. “I don’t mind.”

“Yes, thanks.” With Morris’s help, Jaysan eased off his lap to sit on the cushion beside him, the blanket still wrapped around his shoulders. He wasn’t cold, but it helped him feel less likely to fall apart again.

Kell moved from his perch on the arm of the couch to the chair opposite them, a shrewd look on his face.

Jaysan shot him a look he hoped said, “Don’t play matchmaker,” but wasn’t sure he succeeded.

“I’m so sorry this overwhelmed you,” Morris said. “It was completely unexpected for me, too.”

Hoping he meant Jaysan being Aeron’s omegin and not the mating bond—yes, Jaysan was smart enough to figure out the smell and the feelings, and he didn’t want that bond, damn it—Jaysan agreed.

“I imagine it’s a bit overwhelming for you, too, Morris,” Kell said. “You were expecting a potential governor, not Aeron’s birth parent.”

“I am a bit overwhelmed, yes,” Morris replied. “So much has happened in the last four days. Things keep changing on me.”

“I’m sorry,” Jaysan said.

“Don’t be, not about this. I imagine you aren’t the first omegin to regret giving up a child, but in a province as big as Sansbury, the odds of ever crossing paths with, and then recognizing your offspring, are so miniscule. No one expected this today, least of all you.”

“But you didn’t need this complication, too, on top of having lost your brother and brother-in-law.” Jaysan felt the truth of his words in his bones before he uttered them. “And I won’t be the dick who tries to take Aeron away when you’ve already lost so much, but I would love to be part of his life going forward.”

Morris blinked at him several times, those pale—hazel? Gray?—eyes glistening with tears. Jaysan had never seen an alpha get so emotional before. “I’d like that, too.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Everyone makes mistakes, Jaysan, and I truly believe you regret giving up your son, but I can’t give up my nephew. Maybe we can find a compromise that works for all of us.”

Jaysan’s heart tried to turn over, but he resisted. He resisted hard. “Okay.”

“You want to be around Aeron, and I have to go back to work next week. Would you like to be his governor during the work week? And possibly when I work late and weekend overtime, because I tend to lean toward being a workaholic?”

“You want me to work for you?”

“Yes? I can offer you a small salary. My brother was a smart investor, and there is equity in the house, so I won’t ask you to do this for free. You’d be a paid governor. Take care of Aeron and the house, do light dinnertime cooking if you’re so inclined.”

“I’m not a very good cook.”

“I can teach you,” Kell said. “There are so many simple dishes you can learn and then interpret in various ways, especially things like pizza and pasta.”

Jaysan smiled at his friend, whose eager grin made him readily agree. “Okay.” To Morris, he said, “May I hold him again?”

“Of course,” Morris replied.

He threw off the blanket and walked to the pack-and-play. Branson ignored him in favor of a toy, but Aeron raised both hands in Jaysan’s direction. Warmth and love flooded Jaysan’s chest as he picked Aeron up and balanced him on one hip. Aeron grabbed at his face, laughing and bubbling up a mix of real words and nonsense.

“What was his first word?” he asked.

“Dada,” Morris said. “That was Brody. Morgan was Papa. He still asks for them.”

“Of course, he does.” Jaysan pressed his nose against Aeron’s temple. “They’re the parents he knows. The parents he misses.”

“He knows you,” Kell said. “In his own way.”

“Morris.” He turned to the alpha, whose tender smile faded into a more neutral expression. “How long does this arrangement last? Me governing him? Until he’s old enough to understand who I am? Do I leave before he knows I’m his omegin?”

“No, of course not,” Morris said. He stood, but didn’t advance. “I want you to be honest about who you are to Aeron. I won’t make you pretend you’re just his caregiver. I’d never do that to you. And I don’t know how long this lasts. I can’t make you promise to stay if you’d rather find a mate and start another family.”

Aeron is my family, and I don’t want a mate.

No matter what his nose and instincts said about Morris, Jaysan didn’t want a mate, bondmate or otherwise. He wanted the freedom to make his own choices, but what freedom did he have now? He was tied to Aeron, which tied him to Morris—a kind, gentle alpha who treated him like a person with thoughts and feelings of his own. A kind, gentle alpha he felt the mating bond for, and if Morris felt it back, then Jaysan was impressed with his self-control. Other alphas would be trying to force the bond, force the mating, but not Morris.

Morris is grieving a huge loss. He’ll force me once he’s properly grieved.

Jaysan shivered. “I have no desire to mate today, tomorrow, or any time in the future,” he said with as much power as possible. “But I can be a loving, supportive omegin for Aeron, today and always. I can’t imagine giving him up now that I’ve found him.” He kissed his son’s curly hair. “I’ve only just met him, but I love him so much.”

“I’d never force you to give him up. Never. Only an inherently cruel person would do that.”

Kell flinched.

Jaysan believed Morris, but he still didn’t trust the man. He could, however, try and get to know him better. “Your brother was beta, so I assume your parents were a mated pair?”

“They were.” Morris narrowed his eyes. “However, my sire was…unpleasant. Cruel. Morgan tried to shield us from his violence as best as he could, but sometimes a random fist flew. I vowed a long time ago, if I ever mated, I’d be the best, kindest alpha possible to my omega. If I’m being honest, Ronin is my role model. I’d be happy to be half the alpha he is.”

“I don’t know Ronin well, but he does seem like a wonderful alpha and mate.”

“He’s the best,” Kell said. “And Morris is a kind man, Jaysan. I know I said that once already, but I truly believe it.”

“I know, thank you,” Jaysan replied. He trailed his fingers up and down Aeron’s back. “Has he eaten recently? May I feed him?”

Morris grinned. “It’s been a little while since breakfast, so I’m sure he’d like a bottle. I’ll show you where everything is.”

Kell remained in the living room, while Jaysan followed Morris into the big, fancy kitchen. It had a top-notch bottle warmer, and Morris pointed out the defrosted bag of donated milk. Pouring it into the bottle saddened him a bit, because Jaysan remembered long days of pumping and bagging his own unneeded milk to donate to other omegins in need, or beta couples who’d adopted. He’d done it until his heat arrived again, just over a month after giving birth, and then the milk dried up.

He’d helped his friends feed their babies a handful of times, but this was different. Aeron was situated on his lap so Aeron could hold the bottle himself, and Jaysan listened to the sucking and frothing sounds. Watched the milk disappear into his son’s belly. Another omegin’s milk was feeding his boy, but Jaysan was there, holding him. Protecting him from falling off the chair or swallowing too quickly.

In that moment, he understood what Kell had meant by a part of himself snapping into place. Jaysan hadn’t felt this content, this settled, since before Papa died two years ago. He wasn’t simply surviving day to day. Now he had a goal. He had someone to wake up for every morning, a purpose for his life other than lasting one hour to the next.

“Who named him Aeron?” Jaysan asked.

Morris was leaning against the counter, watching them from a distance. “Morgan suggested it. Aeron was our omegin’s name, and we wanted to honor him.”

The sadness in his voice reminded Jaysan of Morris’s comment about his sire. “Was your omegin a good man?”

“The best. He loved his kids, and he tried to protect us from our sire. I just wish I could have saved them.”

Them? Jaysan wanted to ask, but instinct said this was a sad story Morris didn’t tell to just anyone. Not even the birth parent of his nephew. Besides, asking personal questions opened Jaysan up to the same, and he wasn’t ready to bare to his soul to an alpha he’d just met. He was, however, here to apply for a job, so he might as well give Morris something.

“I can heat up a bottle and change a diaper,” Jaysan said. “I’ve babysat for my friends in the past, sometimes two babies at a time. I do love kids in general, and I didn’t come here expecting anything more than possibly governing your nephew, so I don’t expect special treatment.”

“I appreciate that,” Morris replied. “I don’t know how I won’t be able to treat you as special.” He glanced at the archway to the living room, then pitched his voice lower. “Did you feel it, too?”

Jaysan’s face flamed. “Maybe. I don’t want it, though. I don’t.”

“I don’t, either. I meant what I said about not wanting to become my sire. He’s in my blood, and I won’t hurt risking someone else the way he hurt us.”

He admired Morris for that hard line, when most alphas were driven by the need to mate, fuck, knot, and spawn an alpha heir—especially once an alpha scented an omega and identified the mating bond. “I have a heat coming up in a month or so.”

Morris nodded. “I can arrange for alternate childcare during that time. It isn’t a problem.”

“Okay.”

“And if it makes you more comfortable, I can start taking the alpha pheromone suppressor. I don’t take it, because I’m not usually in court with Ronin, but if it helps you feel more comfortable here, I can get the shots.”

Jaysan would have fumbled the bottle if Aeron didn’t have such a good grip. “You’d do that for me?”

“Yes. You’re my—you’re Aeron’s omegin. I want you to be comfortable here and to feel safe around me. We’re going to be in this little boy’s life for a long time, Jaysan. We need to be comfortable around each other, too, because kids sense those things.”

“Okay. That’s reasonable.” Aeron had drained the bottle, so Jaysan shifted him for a quick burp. “How is he as a baby? Does he fuss a lot? Has he walked yet?”

“Generally, he’s a great baby. He hates having a poopy diaper, like, really hates it to the point of bursting your eardrums, but he’s usually very sweet. Even tempered. He’s been overly emotional this week, but that’s to be expected, considering.”

“Right. I’m sorry.” Jaysan hated knowing a major tragedy had brought him back to his son, but a deep-down, selfish part wouldn’t take it back. Not even to take away Morris’s pain, and that made him a horrible person. Undeserving of such a gentle alpha as Morris.

“It’s okay. And no, he hasn’t walked on his own yet, but he’s got some words, as I’m sure you’ve heard.”

“Yeah. My friend Jax’s oldest, Karson, is a few months older than Aeron, and he’s talking in full sentences now. It was amazing watching him grow up. Him and Peyton and Layne. Rei is starting to crawl.”

“They grow up fast.” Morris took a step closer, a fond smile fixed on Aeron. “I was here the day they brought Aeron home from the hospital. He was so tiny I was terrified to hold him. I thought if I squeezed too hard I’d break him.”

Curiosity quelled inside Jaysan. “Do you have a picture of them? Morgan and Brody? I didn’t see any in the living room.”

“I took them down, but I can get one. I’m sure I’ll put them back up at some point, but seeing their faces all the time…”

“Too painful?”

“Yeah. Hold on.”

Morris went into the living room, and a cabinet door of some sort opened and shut. Someone whispered, followed by a response, and then Morris returned with a framed print. Held it out so Jaysan could observe without trying to balance the frame and the baby.

“Well, I don’t have to ask who is who,” Jaysan said. “You and your brother look alike.”

“Yeah, we all inherited our omegin’s red hair and fair skin.”

He said we all again. Who’s we all? He only had one brother. Right?

Jaysan studied Brody’s smiling face and broad body. “Brody doesn’t have any family left?”

“No, he moved here for work six years ago, and his own beta parents have both passed since then.” Morris’s tender smile cracked. “Me and Morgan were all the family he had. He was a fantastic husband and a good friend. Brody absolutely shined as a dad. They both did.”

“They sound like amazing people. I’m glad Aeron had them. I mean that.”

“So am I.” Morris put the photo on the counter. “I take it you don’t have any family in Sansbury, either?”

“No. My parents were beta, and my dad died when I was ten. My papa never remarried, so it was the two of us until I was eighteen, and then he died suddenly of an aneurysm. It’s why I was sent to Fynn’s halfway house. And I guess you know the story from there.”

Real pain reflected in Morris’s eyes. “I’m glad all the sick fu—uh, jerks are in prison or dead.”

Jaysan liked how Morris had curbed his impulse to curse in front of the baby. The last thing he needed was for their kid to start blurting out “fuck” in mixed company.

No, not our kid. My kid. His nephew.

“Yes, they’re off the streets,” Jaysan said. “The constabulary has been amazing in finding them, and also working with other provinces to rip apart a much larger operation.” He only knew vague details through Braun, Jax and Liam, whose mates were all constables, and even they only got sparse details of ongoing investigations.

But his thoughts rolled around to Reid, as they often did when he remembered last summer’s string of trials and press. He’d considered Reid his best friend for a while, until Reid pushed everyone away, Jaysan included, and boiled in his own outrage and pain.

“I’m sorry,” Morris said.

“For what?”

“You looked really sad all of the sudden, so I’m sorry for bringing up the past. I can’t imagine how painful all that was for you.”

Painful was one really weak word for it. “It’s not your fault. It’s a hard topic to avoid, and the past two years have been the worst of my life. There have been some good moments since being released from captivity, and I adore the friends I have now. But mostly…yeah.” He looked at the tattoos on his wrists, constant physical reminders of where he’d been and what he’d done.

Their captors had tattooed everyone’s wrists with what looked like black, spiky bracelets to discourage escape, insisting they had people all around the province who’d recognize those marks and take them right back to the fight ring. Udall had sold the story with enough believability that Jaysan had never tried to escape—not like Jax.

Jaysan respected Jax so much for his bravery in escaping with a newborn, and for helping the constabulary find the rest of them and set them free. That bravery also made Jaysan feel like a coward whenever he was around the bigger, older omegin.

He’d fought Jax four times and lost every time except the last, and that was something none of them talked about. Jaysan, Jax and Brogan had all fought each other. Reid, too. But they didn’t bring it up, didn’t talk about the fights, the wins, the losses, or the rapes. The one thing that truly bound them was the one thing they couldn’t discuss. And in some ways, they didn’t have to. They simply knew.

“Would you like to stay here with Aeron for a little while?” Morris asked. “I could actually use a few hours to run some errands, go grocery shopping. Get some more things from my old apartment.”

Jaysan blinked. “This isn’t your home?”

“No, my brothers left it to me. I live in a one-bedroom apartment that isn’t suitable for a baby, so I’m going to live here with Aeron for a while. If you like, you can claim the guest room for yourself. Keep some things in it like books or whatnot, so you feel more at home.” Morris’s eyes went wide. “Not that I expect you to sleep over, but you know, you’ll have a space when Aeron’s napping and stuff. Not that you can’t use the living room, though, because you can. You’ll have the run of the house, except my room—shit. Shoot.”

“What?” Jaysan had found the babbling quite endearing, until Morris looked like he’d just eaten dirt.

“Nothing, it’s not your problem. Um, I’ve kind of been using the guest room, because I can’t bring myself to sleep in their old room.”

“It’s okay, I don’t need a room.”

“Yes, you do. Um, do you mind using the master? You’ll have the private bathroom and everything. I just need to clear out their personal belongings, and you don’t start until next week anyway, so there’s time.”

“Morris, you don’t have to upend your plans for me.”

“I didn’t have any real plans for when to go through the house, and I’d probably have put it off indefinitely. But you being here is a good excuse to get it done. It’s going to hurt no matter when I do it.”

Jaysan had no idea what prompted him to ask, “Do you want a friend around when you do? I can come over.”

“Really?” Once again, Morris looked ready to burst into tears. “You’d do that?”

No, no, danger alert, bad idea!

“Sure. I didn’t really get a chance to do that when Papa died, because omegas don’t inherit anything, and the few mementos I kept were disposed of by Lawry when I was”—he made air quotes—“mated.”

“When he sold you,” Morris said with a growl. A growl that did not caress Jaysan’s skin in a warm, wonderful way.

Jaysan shrugged. “It is what it is, and Lawry’s dead. I do have some measure of peace knowing that.”

“I’m glad. So shopping?”

“Yes, of course.” He stood, Aeron balanced on his hip where he was always meant to be. “I’m fine with him for a while. We’ve got a year of catching up to do.”

“Yeah. Do you want anything while I’m out? Coffee? A snack? Anything?”

“No, you don’t have to buy me anything, thank you.”

Morris seemed poised to argue—probably that alpha need to take care of his omegin—but he didn’t. Because they both knew they weren’t a couple and never would be. No need to start bad habits now. “Well, you’ll be at least taking your lunches here starting next week. What sort of lunch food do you like?”

“Soup and a sandwich is fine. I’m honestly not a picky eater.”

“I can work with that.”

Jaysan followed him into the living room. Kell and Branson were playing with blocks on the carpet, giving them privacy to talk, and Kell flashed him a hopeful smile. After Morris left, Jaysan settled next to Kell, and then hooted when Aeron smashed Branson’s stack of blocks with both fists.

“My little alpha,” Jaysan said. “Goddess, I never expected this. Whatever instinct told you to bring me here, Kell, listen to it. Always. It’s a good instinct.”

“I will, I promise.” Kell reached for an errant block. “Now if only I could feel something for Brogan.”

“He’ll find a mate. At least he wants one.”

Kell’s look said Jaysan would change his mind, and Jaysan hoped he was wrong. Morris was kind and supportive, and he’d be a wonderful parent to Aeron. But he deserved a better, cleaner mate than Jaysan, and Jaysan would have to find a way to prove it to Morris once and for all.

Maybe they both felt the mating bond, but Jaysan would be damned if he’d ever act on it. Nope. Never.

Except…that sweet, sweet scent….