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Orion shakes his head. “I’ll sit with Lilah.”
The back of my neck starts to sweat as the guys settle me in between them. The middle seat gives the perfect view of the rearview mirror and the glares that Craig keeps shooting.
Looks, I can handle. I’m worried what happens if his resentment turns to something more.
But it’s kind of hard to focus on the kicked-dog beta when I’m the meat in this hearty man sandwich. The backseat is all apples and honey and smoke, and I can’t tell if my perfume’s sneaking in the mix. I grip my thighs, trying to keep my hands to myself.
“You sure you’re not hurting?” Hunter asks. “We can call in a prescription for more pain meds.”
“I’ve had worse.” The bullet went clean through my arm. Yeah, it aches, but it’s professionally stitched and sanitized. Much better than all those times omegas clawed me to shit and I had to disinfect with hand sanitizer, fearing the nasty germs they had crawling under their nails.
Hunter rumbles. “We’re going to take care of you, Killer.”
“For real this time.” Instead of reacting to the nickname, Orion hesitantly touches my knee.
His touch is kerosene. The applesauce scent of him sucks down my windpipe, strokes down to my core, and settles in to stay. I squeeze my thighs against the sudden betraying wetness sparked by his attention.
His care.
Thank fuck for scent-neutralizing pads.
I can hardly breathe on the ride home. Hunter keeps asking me what I need and Orion drifts closer and closer, a brush of my shoulder, a bump of my thigh, and a soft, soothing purr that makes me want to squeeze him like my own personal body pillow.
When we finally park in the garage, Hunter offers me a hand down and doesn’t let go, leading me into the house.
“She can’t go that way.” Craig hops out in a snit. “She has to go around.”
“She can.” Orion takes my other arm.
“Do you want a room upstairs?” Hunter frowns. “The basement’s kind of…”
“I like it.” Because if I have to try to rest knowing these guys are just down the hall, I’ll cream myself in my sleep.
Every night.
“Come in.” Orion tugs my elbow. “Let me give you the tour of our McMansion.”
“You’re giving her free reign?” Craig chokes out. “But the pack—”
“Craig,” Hunter barks. “We need to talk. You two, go ahead.”
Orion pulls me into the house, and both our shoulders drop when the door cuts off the resentful cardboard scent.
“Why do you keep him around?” I ask the question that’s been bugging me since day one.
Now that I understand their pack vibe, I don’t get how Craig fits.
“He was our driver. Scorpio and the dads insisted we needed a beta for balance. It was easier to invite him as an assistant and say we were considering it than interviewing candidates we didn’t want.”
“So you’re stuck with him?” It boggles. Apparently, I’m not that special. The four founders love shoehorning members into their sons’ pack.
“Not forever. Just until Scorpio eases back.” Orion leads me down the hallway, but I can’t focus on the expensive bachelor pad decor.
“Will he ever? I mean, Exhibit A.” I wave at myself. “At some point, you’re the omega. It should be your decision who’s in or out.”
“Yes and no.” He huffs a breath, dropping the elbow that he was holding. Landmine. “It’s not that simple.”
But it should be that simple.
