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The lemon football lodges in my throat.
Keep your acting on point.
I grab a banana so he won’t try to feed me. “I’m heading to work on traps before it gets hot. I won’t be far.”
His grin rakes my goose-bumped skin. “I’ll know where you are.”
I don’t know if that’s a fact, a threat, or a scary-sexy promise, but two can play it cool.
I banana-salute and drop my smoothest lie yet. “I’ll be back for lunch.”
With Jin’s gaze lasering my back, I power-walk across the dock to shore.
Reese and I passed the warehouse on yesterday’s tour. It’s a glorified shed, but it has a solid roof and all the tools I need.
First issue of business, I grab a shovel and bury my banana in a hole. Then I dig out plastic sheeting, shears, and a bucket of thick caulk.
I wasn’t lying about setting my own traps.
Picking across the property, I hunt down a jungle villa with surviving doors and no marks on its gatepost. Then I get to work, sealing broken windows.
The place needs to be air-tight.
My ears perk all morning, waiting for visitors, but I’m left alone to caulk and sweat through waves of nausea. I’m just hiding the syringe case and trying to stand up after my second injection when I finally catch footsteps too light to be an alpha’s.
“Marisol?” A lightly freckled face peeks into the villa.
In purple shorts and a matching APOCALIPS T-shirt, with sunglasses and two strawberry blond buns perched on her head like fuzzy ears, Dany makes the cutest beach bunny.
Meanwhile, I’m sweating my ass off in neck-to-ankle spandex. Like a tomato-faced mime.
I jam the syringes in my bag.
Dany’s pale eyes crinkle in a genuine smile. “Nice backpack.”
I totally owe her concert tickets to make up for everything I’ve borrowed. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”
“Not at all.” She waves open hands. “Sorry. My brothers wouldn’t let Dutch come after you, so he gave me the eye. I wanted to see what you’ve been up to.”
Wow.
I must’ve finally communicated my need for personal space.
Not that my ears were straining for hours, hoping to hear Dutch barreling this way.
Nope.
Not me.
“There’s not a pit trap or anything, right?” Dany stops a flip-flop at the doorframe.
“It’s safe.” I hold back a smile while she picks through the debris in the living room. Dany’s built small like Lisa, and when she concentrates like she’s casing for landmines, her nose wrinkles.
There’s something so soft and shy and innocent about Dutch’s little sister. Even I want to protect a beta I’ve barely met. “You call them all your brothers?”
“Except Bishop. He gives me more birthday money if I call him Uncle Bish.” She stops shy of my pile of cut-up tarps, then her shining eyes snap to the most interesting target in the room—me.
“Would it be really rude to ask about your heat? I’ve never met an omega. I mean, I’ve read about them, and I write about them, but since I had to homeschool, I’m probably never going to meet another one in real life. Mom said not to bother you, but— Oh. I’m already bothering you, aren’t I? I’m so sorry. I don’t usually have anyone to talk to that’s not family, and when I do, I just— ” Blushing, she covers her mouth. “I’m stopping.”
