I’ve been close to her for less than a day, but it’s impossible to miss how lonely she is.
A sly smile breaks out on Vanessa’s face, and she nods. “I like ice cream.”
She’s too damn pretty to be grinning at me like that.
I’m an ugly motherfucker, and I know it. Women legitimately trip over my boots when trying to get to Moretti. I’m a giant, so fuck if I know how they miss me, but it must speak to how badly they want to get close to him.
She really must want that ice cream.
Vanessa might be used to doing a lot on her own, but her instincts give away that she’s an omega. There are some things a person can’t fight, no matter how hard they try. Just like I can’t shake the overwhelming urge to protect her, she sticks close to my side, letting me.
Alpha and omega dynamics are complicated. I’ve heard it for my entire life. I just never expected the energy buzz that comes from having her so close and looking to me for safety.
I stand at the front of the store, giving her a little space as she pays for the bras and underwear she picked out. Thank fuck she didn’t try those on to ask for opinions.
The lingerie pieces she selected and tried on in the last store were enough to have me praying for strength from a god I don’t even believe in. If she’s planning to torment Moretti with those sexy little numbers, I’m interested to see how long it’ll take before he cracks.
She’s stacked with curves, and they only seem to get more pronounced with the less she has on.
Fuck my life.
How long has it been since I’ve slipped inside a woman?
Too fucking long if I can’t remember.
That’s an even worse sign when being faced with temptation at every turn.
Vanessa peeks back over her shoulder at me, smiling as the cashier packages up the rest of her items.
I nod, letting her know I’m watching, and my fucking chest feels weird. Bringing a hand up, I rub at the ache over my heart.
“I’d be careful with that.” Mario chuckles, nodding at Vanessa. “She seems attached to you. You know how that shit goes. Moretti will eventually get his head out of his ass, and then it’syourhead on the chopping block.”
“Yeah,” I grunt, shoving my hands into my pockets.
He’s not wrong.
Then again, he doesn’t know that Moretti essentially told me totake care of her. Whatever she needs.Fuck if I know if that extends past keeping her alive, but I’m not interested in getting in the middle of their marital squabbles.
Mario fetches the SUV while Vanessa and I grab ice cream. She opts for some awful combination of sour green apple, cotton candy, and vanilla.
It might be boring, but I go for what I know I’ll like—half chocolate and half vanilla.
I’m loaded down with the majority of her shopping while she has a few small bags, but that makes sense with the size difference between us. We make our way toward the exit, and Vanessa barely licks at her ice cream.
“How is it?” I ask, trying not to laugh.
“I remember liking those flavors when I was little, but this is awful,” she admits, stepping over and tossing it into one of the trash cans we pass.
“Want to go back and try again?”
“Nah, that’s okay.” She eyes my cone, which I’ve barely touched.
I chuckle. “Take mine. It’s good.”
“I don’t want to steal yours…”
“We can share.” I shove the ice cream at her and give it a little shake.
