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“He’s being an ass,” Saint replies drolly. Then he lifts the creamer and pours the small container into his oversized mug.
“I’m doing what needs to be done. If you think you can do it better, be my guest.”
I don’t like the tension between them as they stare at each other. Why are alphas so high-strung?
“You can whip them out right here, but I think it would trump a story about a new girl in the papers…and I could tell you who’s bigger and solve the whole thing for you,” I say. I suck down half my coke as I wait to see who would break first. As always, Saint smiles first, which in turn makes Austin crack too.
A light chuckle rumbles Austin’s chest as he shakes his head ruefully. “Who’s bigger?” He lifts an eyebrow, and I grin.
“I said I could tell you, not that I would.”
Saint laughs loudly, his head thrown back. “You know that means it’s me,” he says.
Audrey slips back into her place next to Austin, but he only looks at her as she unfolds the napkin and spreads it into her lap. “What were you talking about?” She looks up at me before glancing between the other two.
Opting to change the subject, even though seeing her blush is tempting, I point at one of the many pictures hanging on the walls.
“You see that picture right there, above the golden frame?”
Her attention tracks to the picture of a blond boy sitting atop a Clydesdale horse. His mop of curls and the almost devilish glint in his dark eyes, so much like the Saint I knew and loved, only now he held more caution in his gaze. He doesn’t allow himself to be that free now.
“The boy?”
“That’s Saint when he was just a baby.”
She smiles, which is almost as addictive as her blush. “You were adorable.”
He snorts and ducks his head. “Ouch. You really know how to hit a guy where it hurts.”
“I didn’t mean–”
“He’s just fishing for a compliment. Ignore him.” Austin lays his arm across the back of the bench, his fingers playing with one of her curls.
“I’m sure he gets them all the time. I’m sure you all do.” She straightens and shoots Austin a look when he inadvertently tugs on her hair.
The waitress returns before he can utter the apology I can see on his face. After we order and she strolls away, Audrey leans back into the bench.
When Austin’s fingers brush her bare shoulder, she tenses momentarily, so minute I’m not sure anyone that isn’t hyper aware of her would notice. But the three of us take notice and share a silent conversation. Whoever made her fear human touch would find something to fear themselves when we find out who it was.
Was that why her brother and she were living on the streets? Were they running from something? If I am feeling protective of her, I can only imagine what’s running through Austin's and Saint’s heads.
The brunch turns to light topics and, by the time we are at the end, I wish we didn’t need to leave. It barely felt like pretending as Saint offers Audrey his arm, and we exit into the bright sun.
The smile slips from her face as the paparazzi descend. Fucking vultures must have been tipped off by Gregory or Valeri. Because the flashing of cameras and shouting as they attempt to get a look at the omega with us tells the entire story.
Audrey buries her face into Saint’s chest, and he tucks her closer to his side as he pushes through the throng. A soft whine comes from her, and his other hand comes up to smooth over her hair. Mark pulls open the waiting Rolls-Royce door and, somehow, Saint climbs in without releasing her. Austin and I are right behind them. The dark tint of the windows keeps their invasive eyes off of her.
“Shit, it’s like they smelled blood in the water,” Saint says, Audrey is now draped across his lap, her face still hidden.
“I imagine that yesterday’s headline, ‘Did the Mafia Prince crack?’ with a photo of me shoving her into my car stirred them up.”
Austin straightens his blazer before pulling out his phone and swiping through to an image of Audrey being forced into his waiting car. Her dark hair blocked her face, so you can’t see who she is, but it is clear that someone took a picture of an omega that literally could have been being kidnapped, and they only wrote a story about it. Not to mention that it actually was a kidnapping.
“You knew about that photo and thought it would be a good idea to go to brunch where we would be seen?” Saint asks. Something in his voice is dangerous, and Audrey pushes away from him, her eyes wide. She scoots into the seat next to him and straightens, her face a different kind of flushed as she peeks at him from the corner of her eye.
“That is the entire point of this,” Austin replies, his tone dry and sarcastic.
“And you didn’t think you should warn us?” Saint asks. “Did you ever think how that would affect Audrey? Someone that isn’t used to being around the paparazzi should at least get a heads up.”
