Ah…shit.
My body curls in on itself as I get a sudden strong whiff of my own perfume, and Greg’s arms tighten around me. His hands rub up and down my arms. “Hey, Sarah, you want me to call the hotel? Get checked in for the heat suite?” There’s a slight tremor moving through his palms as they slide over my skin. Is he nervous about my heat? It shouldn’t be starting yet, this is probably just a little spike. Or I’m just tired.
Spinning to bury my face in his neck, I start huffing in his comforting scent, but also get hints of the three guys behind me—a warm whiskey oak from Paul, that smokey roasted pecan from Alistair, and leather and grass from Moose. I bet he played football in high school and college. His scent reminds me of playing football with my brothers when we were kids. Not that they would play for real with me and Scarlet; we were both a lot smaller. We usually got stuck being refs, but when you have that many alpha brothers and cousins…well, let’s just say there were enough of us to form at least one professional team.
Of course, that was before my designation came in, and Mamá said that omegas were too fragile to play contact sports. I burrow deeper against Greg, needing the calm and comfort I get from him. I’m so tired. One big hand slides down my back, pressing me against his chest. “Come on, Spitfire, we’re gonna get you outside into some fresh air to start. Then you can tell me how you’re feelin’. Sam can drop us at the hotel if we need to head over there. Don’t you worry, we’ll figure this out.” My head spins, and everything shifts sideways as he picks me up then turns and starts walking out of the store. Looking over his shoulder, I see Moose and his packmates staring after me.
The big guy looks sad, like he doesn’t want me to go. It feels weird to think of him as Spencer instead of Moose. Alistair—oh, sorry,Professor Miller—is staring intently after me before turning his attention back to Spence. The other blond, Paul, is watching me speculatively. His hand raises, then drops down onto Spencer’s shoulder, rubbing firm, calming circles there, before finally turning and saying something. We’re far enough away that I can’t hear it, but Spencer’s breath hitches in a heavy sigh.
Chapter 38
We watch the big beta carry Sarah out of the store. Her face pops up over his shoulder, staring back at us, and poor Spencer lets out a tiny whimper. Fucking omegas, always doing this shit. Look how pretty, look how sweet. Before you know it, you’ve been replaced in your own pack with some musclebound meathead. Though we already have one of those, at least as far as outward appearances go.
What could be going on in the big guy’s head? Paul starts rubbing his hand up and down Spencer’s shoulder before leaning in. His voice is a quiet whisper. “When we see her again, you should show her those paint samples you have and see if she likes the colors? For now, let’s get some of those pillows you wanted. Do they have any colors that’ll match up well?”
Spence sniffs and turns back to the swatch book he was looking through earlier. He quickly flips it open to the centerand then turns back four pages and pulls out his phone, taking a close-up photo of a deep violet material along with the color number beneath it. He flips forward several more pages without even glancing at the colors and takes another photo of an almost teal color, then forward two more to something akin to burnt umber.
It’s the first time I’ve seen him interested in this color. All the sample cards he brought were in cool blue and lavender tones. It almost seems like he memorized the pages while he was looking through them earlier, and it wouldn’t even surprise me. The man’s brain seems to retain the most random things. He appears to have perfect recall for certain television shows or books, but can’t remember what we had for dinner the night before.
He looks over the machine and heaves a deep sigh before pressing the button to call for assistance. While we wait, he opens a second book and runs his hand over different textures of fabric, all grey this time, as well as feeling the plushness on what appears to be a giant keyring full of stuffing quantity samples. By the time the put-upon clerk has shown up, he’s nodding to himself. The poor fellow takes one look at Spencer and turns to Paul, who just waves and smiles, pointing his finger back to our biggest packmate. The young man finally seems to notice me standing off to the side, and a look of relief passes over his face. “Sorry for your wait sir, how I can I help you today?”
Spence huffs behind the guy, and I have to pinch my lips together to keep from cackling when the clerk’s shoulders hunch at the sound, and I notice his nametag: Max. Max looks almost pleadingly at me, and it’s hard not to laugh. Objectively, I understand why our youngest member might be off-putting. He’s practically a giant, and he easily has resting bitch face when he’s deep in thought, as he is now. Max probably thinks he’s about to have an irate alpha yelling at him for this complicated piece of machinery.
Spence’s voice is soft when he does speak. “I’m sorry, um…sir? I just need to get some pillows made, if you have the stuff here. I couldn’t find it, and I didn’t want to risk messing up anybody’s filing system by rifling through it.” The quiet tone seems to take Max aback as he looks from me to Paul before finally turning his full attention to our resident giant.
Max swallows a few times, and Spencer slouches, failing miserably at his attempt to make himself smaller. He always tries to look as unintimidating as possible, and rarely succeeds. There isn’t much to help that; he’s young, but he’s just so big. He’s been hit in the face repeatedly playing football, so his nose has a noticeable bump from being broken and healing multiple times. I doubt he has any sort of skincare routine, not that I can talk at length about that since mine is mostly washing in the shower with a face scrub.
Still, we used to share a bathroom, and unless he and Paul were using mine, which I doubt, he doesn’t use anything other than a bar of Lever 2000 for everything, including his face. Which works, but doesn’t do much for his pores. Subjectively, he’s not unattractive, but he’s not harmless looking either. Unless he smiles, then all bets are off. But after the tiny omega was rushed off earlier, I doubt he’ll be smiling much today.
I hate that his mood shifted so easily from relaxed and happy at the mall and here, to excited to see her again, to his current state of despondence since she left. It’s not her fault, but I do believe he’s already smitten with her. She’s not unattractive—but she’s short, even for an omega, with a cute pixie haircut that seems to have a life of its own, and large doe eyes the color of dark chocolate. She’s also trouble, with a capital T—and just here for a visit. Long-distance relationships can be hard enough without throwing heats into the mix. It’s just a terrible idea all around, and I’m frustrated to no end by how captivated he already is by this tiny stranger.
Max has relaxed incrementally while he speaks with Spencer—the big man’s natural charisma is difficult to ignore if you can get past his perceived surliness. At least his positive mood has come back as he pulls out his paint swatches and now speaks animatedly with the young clerk. I can’t hear exactly what they’re discussing, but Spencer occasionally waves his arms over his head, and Max is nodding along, a small smile on his face now. He opens the sample book himself and goes over the colors that Spencer noted earlier, and I hear him speaking briefly about their most popular fabric and fill options—attempting to ascertain if this is for a nest or a different room that might need other support options.
Max makes note of a new service they offer with water-resistant pillow bodies that you can fill to your preference, and then purchase zippered slipcases for them. Apparently, theyaremore expensive. However, they’re ideal for omega nests where there are often an excess of fluids. Spencer nods along, and even though I know he told us he wants these for the living room, I have my doubts. Especially as he peers around Max’s head before nodding back and adding loudly, “And if we use them in the living room, they’ll be waterproof if someone spills something on them.” The poor clerk looks confused again, his gaze swiveling between me and my two packmates before giving an almost imperceptible shrug and returning his full attention to Spencer.
“So, that’s three large in the Kimono Violet with stuffing at seventy percent. Four medium in Naval, also with seventy percent and two large Husky Orange at eighty-five? What kind of couch do you have? This is gonna be a lot of pillows for one room?” Max isn’t even looking at Spencer any longer; he’s staring down at what appears to be a calculator in his hand, brows furrowed.
Spencer, for his part, is looking between us, eyes slightly panicked. He leans in closer to Max, whispering loudly, “I need softer…like nest soft. But they don’t need to know that.” He looks between Paul and me, as if we couldn’t possibly have heard him. His voice carries at the best of times. The man was made for shouting across an open field; quiet doesn’t seem to be one of his settings.
Max turns his head to follow Spencer’s gaze and sees Paul’s attempts not to laugh and my possibly sour expression before shrugging again and pointing at something on his probably-not-a-calculator. Spencer nods in agreement, a smile brightening his face again. I’m not even sure what’s going on at this point, but I’m emotionally exhausted from his rapid mood changes, not to mention frustrated to hear that he’s still having to deal with that horrible woman at work. I’m going to have a long talk with Sam about this. If his pack won’t take care of their employees, then they don’t get any of my people to work for them. We’ll make it work financially until he can find something else. I refuse to let our big, lovable idiot be abused by that tramp.
A loud voice pulls me from my musings and manages to make Spencer perk up immediately. “Hey, Big Moose! Sorry about that. Teddy said you had something you wanted to show me.”
Oh fuck me sideways, she’s back.
Chapter 39
It doesn’t take too many of Greg’s long purposeful strides until we break out into the fresh air, and my head starts to clear. My skin suddenly feels clammy and cold, a hard one-eighty from being nearly feverish moments before. My beta growls low, hustling towards the minivan we rented for this trip where Kelly and the twins have staked out the third seat. It was the only thing that was big enough for all of us to fit in, plus have some cargo space if I did buy anything here.
Greg pushes my hair back from my forehead, pressing his cheek against it. “Any idea what that was about? Your temperature was spiking like crazy. I thought you were going to go into heat right there in the store.” He sets me in the second seat of the van, and I’m vaguely aware of Kelly and Steve in the backseat, lightly bickering over a stack of books they just bought at the mall. Garret is sitting beside Kelly, keeping herhead turned towards Steve while he twists tiny braids in her hair, occasionally stopping long enough to leave a soft kiss on her ear. The whole scene is cute in a slightly disturbing way. Kelly acts more like Steve’s twin than Garret—but from what I’ve seen, he basically lives for that girl. Like, if they weren’t together, he would be a red flag stalker and shit, but since they are, it’s kind of adorable.
Greg cups my cheeks, bringing my attention back to him. “What do you want me to do? Should I call and get us checked in, or do you think it was something else? Are you feeling sick at all? Aches, pains, nausea, sore muscles?” One hand moves to my forehead while the other slides down my neck to settle over my pulse, and he looks like he’s counting quietly to himself.
I love this man; for all his being a freak, he’s my freak. My protective boy who wants nothing more than to make sure I’m ok. I know he worries about not being enough for me, and while I’ll admit that I enjoyed Spencer’s purring a little too much, I wouldn’t trade Greg for the world. He still doesn’t believe me, but any pack that might want me—not likely, according to my family—gets a beta in the mix. I wish he’d let me bond him so he could feel how much he means to me, and so nobody could separate us.
He says he’s worried about the rules at the center, but I think he just doesn’t want to limit my options or thinks that I’ll regret him later. I’m not sure if he’s worried about getting fired anymore, but being bonded to one of his charges could look bad for him, regardless. And if he does get fired for it, I can’t imagine how hard finding a new job would be. It’s not like he could go around collecting random omegas anyway; we aren’t known for sharing our mates well. I’ve heard of it happening before, but it’s rare.
His eyes are watching mine and he finally calms down since he verified that I’m ok. Maybe itisjust jetlag, maybe too manysmells, but I feel fine now, so the fresh air helped. My phone beeps, drawing both our attention, and it’s a text from Thicc.
