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“No,” I say, clapping my hand on his shoulder. “But sometimes you don’t think about the bigger picture.” I gesture to the family photo. “Look at what’s at stake here. Quinn is our stepsister. We’re a family. We’re not perfect, but our dads are happy. Her mom is happy. That’s what matters.”
He frowns into his glass. “And what about you, Brady? Are you happy?”
“No, Dylan. I’m not.” I grab my glass and down the rest of my drink. “But my job isn’t to be happy. Mom asked me to protect you two, and I’ll do just about anything to keep you guys safe.”
Including denying myself the one thing I really want.
Twenty-Six
QUINN
I tiptoe downstairs the next morning, long after I heard the guys up and the front door closing. Maybe it’s lame of me to hide from them, but I’m terrified they’ve seen too much. Brady scoured through my scrapbook. While he may not understand the pictures, he knows what they mean. Then Dylan cornered me and asked if I had a crush. I just... I don’t know how to look him in the face and lie when he’s that close.
And Austin witnessed the whine.
Someone dig a grave. This omega is about to die of embarrassment.
But now that they’re gone for the day, I can eat and get ready for my shift at the beach. I turn into the kitchen and immediately stop. Austin is standing at the counter, palms planted against the surface and eyes set on the doorway where I’m standing. He’s wearing a simple pair of black joggers and a gray T-shirt, but the alpha looks like a model. It’s really not fair that he gets to be so effortlessly hot when I’d look like a troll in an outfit like that.
“Oh,” I mumble. “Hi.”
He lifts an eyebrow and straightens. “Morning, pretty girl.”
I look away, hating the blush crawling up my neck. “You shouldn’t call me that.”
“Why?”
“I’m going to grab a quick breakfast,” I say instead of answering, heading toward the pantry, but he steps in my way, a solid wall of muscle and gray-scale tattoos.
Our gazes collide and the rich earthen and fresh scent of rain slowly starts to bind around me, a spell cast to keep me in place. My heart races, pulse jumping at my neck, and my chest heaves as my breathing turns shallow.
Austin watches it all happen, eyes narrowed, like he’s putting together a puzzle and he’s finally found the missing pieces. But he hasn’t. There’s still one thing he doesn’t have, a crucial part to complete the picture. No matter how hard he tries to dissect me, he’ll never find out.
“Excuse me.” My voice is breathy, but I pointedly clear my throat. “I need to grab a granola?—”
“I swear, if you finish that sentence, I’ll put you over my knee and spank you.”
I gasp. “What?”
“You’re done eating granola bars.”
Is he serious right now?
“Says who? You’re not my dad.”
His chuckle is dark and devious. “No, pretty girl, I’m not.”
A shiver rolls through me, and he catches the way my shoulders twitch. His tongue rolls over his lips so quickly, I almost miss it, but the sheen of moisture covering his mouth tells me I’m not crazy. His lips were soft when he kissed me. Firm and hungry, and the way he groaned beneath me...wait. Is he remembering the kiss?
He takes a step and I stumble back, terrified of what might happen if he touches me, but I trip over my own feet and start to tip over. Austin grabs me. Of course he does. His strong handstug me into his firm chest, and I die a little on the inside as my cheek rubs over his pec.
He smells divine.
“Careful, Quinn.” My name rumbles in his chest and his thumbs smooth over my arms before he releases me and moves away, gesturing to the counter. “Time to make breakfast.”
“I’m fine, really, I can just—” I cut off when he holds up a finger.
“Remember what I said.”I’ll put you over my knee and spank you.“Don’t think I won’t do it.” There’s a dark glimmer in his sky-blue irises, almost like he’s begging me to cross the line, so he has an excuse to touch me.
