Chapter 6 #2
Stetson stopped a few paces away, his dark green eyes sweeping over my outfit from my tight top down to my boots before finally landing on my shiny cowboy hat. His lips twitched at the corners, and a wave of wild sage washed over the patio, layered with a complex, undeniable surge of approval.
He didn’t say a word, but his gaze lingered just long enough to make my pulse jump.
August, however, barely seemed to register my wardrobe change. The giant Alpha stepped right up to the edge of the garden fence, invading my personal space. “You allergic to anything, Pretty Girl?” he rumbled, deep and low and toe-curling for such a basic question. “Food aversions?”
I paused, momentarily thrown by my reaction to his voice. Toe-curling, indeed. “Uh, no. I’ll eat pretty much anything.”
August gave a single, satisfied nod. “Good. I’m starting dinner.”
“Put me to work,” I offered automatically. When he raised a dark, skeptical eyebrow, I lifted my chin. “I grew up in an Italian kitchen. I know my way around a cutting board.”
My gruff giant smirked. “Alright, city girl. Come on.”
Twenty minutes later, the heavy tension that had defined my arrival was almost gone, replaced by a strange, oddly domestic rhythm.
Stetson had claimed his spot leaning against the kitchen doorway, arms crossed over his chest. He was silent, keeping watch like he was personally responsible for holding up the walls of the house, but that aggressive, feral edge of his had settled into a steady, protective hum, like a guard dog keeping watch.
Gideon sat on a barstool at the island, effortlessly keeping up light conversation aimed at learning every single thing about me.
And I was standing shoulder-to-shoulder with a walking mountain.
August handed me a chef’s knife and a pile of fresh vegetables, accepting my help without a single hint of posturing.
We worked in tandem, moving around each other with an ease that shouldn’t have been possible for two strangers.
Every time his thick forearm brushed against my skin, warmth rushed through my blood.
I breathed in, trying to bask in his scent.
The outdoorsy woodsmoke and spiced cardamom were obvious, but the closer I got, the more I noticed the undertone of sweet vanilla.
On such a beast of a man, it was the most unexpected scent, and that made me love it even more. I wanted to step right into his chest and bury my face in his flannel shirt to get a better lungful.
I was just laughing at something Gideon said, distracted by the heat radiating off August’s side, when the front door banged open with the force of a gunshot.
Noise flooded the quiet hallway. Heavy boots against the hardwood, accompanied by a booming, aggressively cheerful voice. “Boone! I hope you doubled whatever you’re making. I’ve eaten far too much arena dirt today and I’m absolutely starving—”
The scents hit the kitchen before the men did.
Warm leather, sun-baked oak, and toasted marshmallow slammed into my senses, followed a fraction of a second later by the soft, honeyed spice of graham crackers. My inner Omega let out a greedy whine, overwhelmed by the mouthwatering sweetness of the blend.
It was the first time I’d made that noise around these men, and the effect was instantaneous.
Beside me, August’s wooden spoon stopped spinning the chili he’d been stirring. A deeply possessive growl vibrated out of Stetson’s chest, the sound rattling straight through my bones. Even Gideon went perfectly statuesque at the island, looking at me with pure heat.
Before I could clamp a hand over my treacherous mouth, a man strode into the kitchen and stopped so fast his boots skidded against the hardwood.
“Oh, fuuuuuck,” he groaned, the curse tearing out of him like a ragged prayer.
God, he was handsome, with shaggy, sun-streaked golden blonde hair spilled from beneath a battered cowboy hat, framing a face made of masculine angles. But before he could take another step, a second figure bumped into his shoulder, stepping into the doorway right beside him.
My pulse gave an erratic flutter as my gaze bounced wildly between the two men.
They were identical in almost every way.
They shared the same lean, roped muscle, the same golden hair, and the same striking amber eyes.
The only difference was the energy radiating off them.
The first man was pure, high-voltage electricity, buzzing with a wicked, uninhibited charm.
The second man’s posture was more relaxed, almost reserved, watching me with a quiet, grounding sort of gravity.
I couldn’t help but wonder how the hell their mother had ever managed to tell them apart when they were kids before their scents emerged.
Their shared base was identical—the leather and oak I’d already drowned in—but up close, the distinction between them was obvious.
The first twin was deliciously sweet with a marshmallow note that was toasted at the edges, almost caramelized.
The second twin was warmer, steadier, his signature finishing on a soft, honeyed graham cracker that made me want to curl up and never leave.
But the combination of the two was so mouthwatering I could nearly taste it on my tongue.
Lord help me, my inner Omega purred, I want to be the chocolate melting right in the middle of that s’more.
The first twin’s leonine gaze swept over me from head-to-toe, and a wicked grin bloomed across his kissable lips.
“Well, hello there, Sparkles,” he drawled, his voice dipping into a low, honeyed register. He tore his gaze away from me just long enough to shoot a thrilling look at Stetson and August. “I know I rode a good qualifier today, boys, but I didn’t think you were gonna get me a present.”
Six years of dealing with entitled men kept my spine locked perfectly straight. I leaned my hip against the counter and crossed my arms defiantly. “I’m no man’s present.”
A bright, barking laugh punched out of his chest. “Oh, trust me, Sparkles,” he purred, taking a bold, stalking step into the kitchen. “You are most definitely a gift. Have you smelled yourself?”
He didn’t wait for an invitation. The blonde cowboy prowled directly into my personal space, utterly ignoring the chef’s knife on the counter I could’ve easily reached for, and uninhibitedly dipped his head to bury his nose right into the crook of my neck.
I gasped. The sudden, overwhelming friction of his solid chest pressing against my breasts sent a blissful jolt straight to my core.
Curling my hands into his shirt, I couldn’t stop the soft moan that slipped past my lips as he dragged in a greedy lungful of my scent.
His hands gripped my hips, and the heavy ridge of his arousal pressed bluntly against my stomach through his denim.
Thwack. August’s palm connected flatly with the back of the blonde’s head.
“Manners,” the giant barked.
The twin let out a tragic, forlorn groan. He dropped his hands and stepped back, looking genuinely devastated to be separated from me.
A rush of cold air hit my skin, and I instantly mourned the loss of his body heat, a realization that sent a hot, mortifying flush rushing straight into my cheeks.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I had never met an Alpha I actually wanted to rub myself against, and yet within twenty-four hours, I was desperate to climb all five of them.
I swallowed hard, forcing the embarrassment down, and grabbed a dish towel to wipe my hands, needing a moment to regain my equilibrium.
I turned my attention to the second twin. He hadn’t crowded me, choosing to keep a respectful distance near the island, though his amber eyes tracked my every movement with steadfast intensity.
I crossed the kitchen, offering my hand because I was out of my depth and relying on muscle memory to get me through. “I’m Julia.”
The quiet twin reached out. His palm was rough with callouses, his grip warm and incredibly gentle. But instead of shaking it, he bowed his head and pressed a kiss to my knuckles, never breaking eye contact.
My belly tightened, and my pussy fluttered. Dammit. If I wasn’t careful, these men were going to sweep me right off my feet.
“Someone wanna fill us in?” the louder twin interrupted, gesturing between Stetson and Gideon. “You didn’t kidnap an Omega, did you? You’re not being held here against your will, are you?”
I smirked, sliding a glance toward Gideon and arching a single brow.
The Beta winced.
Still holding my hand, the quieter twin gaped at me. The color actually drained from his tanned face as his grip tightened protectively around my fingers. “Wait. Are you?”
I took pity on him, letting my smirk soften into something genuine. “Don’t worry,” I promised, my voice dropping just enough to keep it between us. “I’m here under my own free will.”