Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
MATHEO
I knock on the bathroom door again, balancing the glass of rosé Lucas insisted on bringing back from the pool bar. “Trinity? Everything okay in there?”
“I’ll be right out!” Her voice sounds strained, higher than normal.
I’d chased the others back into the living room because I thought it would be weird for all of us to be crowding around the bathroom door. Lucas had wanted to be the one, but a quick game of rock, paper, scissors settled that debate.
I might have cheated a bit by suggesting that game, to be honest. But it’s not my fault that the guy always throws paper.
The bathroom door swings open, and there she stands. Her dark hair forms a wild nimbus around her face, the humidity bringing out natural curls I hadn’t noticed before. There’s something raw and unguarded about her now—a stark contrast to the polished professional I’d met previously.
I thought I’d prepared myself for seeing Trinity again.
At the gallery and then at my mother’s agency, I’d been struck by her beauty, but I convinced myself that the third time would be different.
That I’d built her too high in my mind and the real woman could never live up to the memory.
That her scent wouldn’t affect me as strongly.
I was wrong.
“Hi,” she says, smoothing down her sundress. There’s a smudge of concealer not quite blended at her jawline, and the simple imperfection makes me bite back a smile.
“May I? You just have something there.” I ask, raising my hand high enough that she gets my meaning before I touch her. At her wide-eyed nod, I gently swipe at the bit of concealer with my thumb before showing her the streak of dark honey color. “Got it.”
I swear I see the hint of a dark blush on her cheeks if just because I’m hoping it’s there.
She clears her throat. “That’s embarrassing.”
“Not really. I’m the jerk who was rushing you by banging on the door. Makeup is nice, but you don’t need it to be beautiful.” I hand her the rosé, our fingers brushing. The contact sends a jolt through that is impossible to ignore. “Lucas thought you might need it.”
“Thank you.” She takes a sip, leaving a faint gloss mark on the rim. I track the movement of her throat as she swallows.
She’s exhausted. I can see it in the slight shadows beneath her eyes that makeup can’t quite hide, in the tension she carries in her shoulders. Yet there’s something compelling about seeing her this way—not the perfect event planner, but a woman holding herself together through sheer determination.
“You’ve been working all day?” I ask, as if it isn’t obvious.
“Since we landed.” She gestures vaguely toward the living room. “The welcome dinner got moved up. Tonight instead of tomorrow.”
I notice a small freckle near her collarbone that wasn’t visible beneath the high neckline she wore at the agency. Her sundress reveals the gentle slope of her shoulders, skin golden in the room’s warm light.
“We’ll be ready,” I assure her. “Whatever you need us to do. Move chairs. Escort old ladies to their seats. Whatever.”
She laughs, a short, surprised sound. “That’s... refreshing. Most escorts don’t—” She stops herself. “I mean, I wouldn’t assume most people in your position would offer to help.”
I shrug, thinking that I’ll scrub floors if she asks me to. “I’m on the clock for you here, sweetheart. For whatever services you require.”
I realize only after I see the look on her face how sexual those words sound. Blown pupils, parted lips, a subtle little intake of breath as her nostrils flare. Reactions that make me want to satisfy the need that I see burning in her eyes.
Fuck, this girl is going to kill me.
Trinity recovers first. She smooths down the front of her dress with one hand as she half-drains her glass of rosé with the other. “We should probably head out there before the others come looking for us.”
Before I toss her into that gigantic bed and keep her there for the next week, she means.
I follow Trinity into the living room, trying not to fixate on the gentle sway of her hips or the lingering scent of her that seems to fill every corner of my awareness.
The others are scattered around the spacious area—Cash perched on the arm of a cream-colored sofa, Lucas sprawled comfortably on the cushions beside him.
And then there’s Kyren .
He’s positioned himself by the floor-to-ceiling windows, gazing out at the pristine beach view with his back half-turned to the room. To anyone else, he might look disinterested, even bored. But I know better.
Kyren only pretends not to care when something matters to him. Deeply.
“Thank you all for agreeing to this arrangement,” Trinity says, setting her glass down on the coffee table. Her voice carries a professional tone, but I catch a slight tremor beneath it. “We need to discuss our backstory before tonight’s welcome dinner. People will have questions.”
Cash straightens, folding his arms across his chest. “What kind of questions?”
“How we met, how long we’ve been together.” Trinity tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “My sister’s fiancés will be particularly...inquisitive. No, scratch that. They’re probably going to ask questions that even your grandmother would think are too invasive.”
“From what you’ve told us, they sound like assholes,” Cash says bluntly.
Lucas immediately shoots him a disapproving look. “C’mon, man. We shouldn’t judge people we haven’t even met yet.”
“Actually, that’s a fairly accurate assessment.” Trinity says with a tight smile. “Especially Egret. He’ll be watching us closely, looking for any inconsistencies.”
I notice how she rubs her thumb against her palm—a nervous gesture she’s probably not aware of. My protective instincts flare.
“It isn’t a lie to say that Matheo and I met at his exhibition,” she continues. “So I think it makes sense to say we’ve been dating since then.”
“Makes sense,” Lucas chimes in. “And maybe we can say we had our first date at that little Italian place near the waterfront? The one with the string lights on the patio?”
I smile at Lucas’s enthusiasm. He’s already building a romantic narrative in his head. Pretty on brand for him.
As they continue to discuss details, I keep glancing at Kyren. He hasn’t moved from his position by the window, hasn’t contributed a single word. To Trinity, it probably looks like complete disinterest. But the tension in his shoulders tells me he’s hanging on every word.
“Kyren,” I call out. “Any thoughts?”
He shrugs without turning around. “Whatever you guys come up with is fine by me.”
Trinity’s expression falters slightly. I see the flash of hurt in her eyes, which she immediately hides by looking away.
I’ve stuck with Kyren through a lot of shit over the years, but I might actually murder him if he messes this up for me.
“He’s actually great at improvising,” I assure her, though I’m not entirely convinced myself. “And he’s got an excellent memory for details.”
Kyren finally turns, and for a split second, I catch something in his eyes—an intensity that vanishes so quickly I might have imagined it.
I need to figure out what the hell is going on with him before this all goes off the rails.
But I’m too late.
Trinity suddenly straightens, her eyes darting between the four of us.
“We should discuss sleeping arrangements. I’ll take the couch in the living room,” she announces, her voice unnaturally bright .
“What? No, that’s not necessary,” I say, stepping forward. “You’re the client. You should take the bed.”
She shakes her head firmly, already backing toward the door. “It makes more sense for the four of you to share the bed. You’re already an established pack, used to being physically close.”
The way she says it—clinical, detached—makes something twist in my chest. She’s building walls between us so fast I can practically see the bricks stacking up.
“Trinity, there’s plenty of room—” I start.
“This way there’s no risk of my disrupting your pack dynamic.” She smooths down her sundress again, a nervous gesture I’m beginning to recognize. “And no pressure on any of you to do something you don’t want to do.”
Before any of us can argue, she abruptly stands taller. “I need to go down to the restaurant and check in with the chef for the welcome dinner. You should all enjoy the resort while you have the chance. I’ve heard the waterfall pool is amazing.”
And just like that, she’s gone, the door clicking shut behind her with quiet finality.
The silence that follows feels heavy, charged with unspoken questions.
Lucas breaks it first.
“What just happened?” He looks genuinely confused, his blue eyes wide. “Did I miss something?”
Cash adjusts his glasses, a gesture he makes when he’s processing information. “I’m getting the feeling that didn’t go well.”
I turn to Kyren, who’s leaning against the window frame with a carefully neutral expression. But I know him too well to miss the tension in his jaw, the too-casual posture that’s anything but relaxed .
“What the hell is going on?” I demand, keeping my voice low but intense. “You said something to her before we got here, didn’t you?”
Kyren’s eyes flick to mine, then away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Bullshit.” I step closer to him. “She practically ran out of here after you gave her the cold shoulder. And I saw how she looked at you, like something happened between you.”
Lucas moves beside me, his expression shifting from confusion to concern. “Kyren? Is there something you need to tell us?”
Kyren reaches into his pocket and pulls out a sleek black vape pen.
“I seriously don’t know what you’re talking about,” he insists, taking a long drag. A cloud of sickly sweet vapor billows around his face.
And there it is. The tell I’ve known since college. Kyren only vapes when he’s lying or stressed—usually both.
“Right,” I say, watching him closely. “So you’ve never met Trinity before today?”
He exhales another cloud. “Nope. First time.”
Cash scoffs. “Given that winning personality, I have to assume that you said something Trinity didn’t like.”
Kyren glares back at him. “Maybe she’s just stressed about the wedding. Or maybe she doesn’t like my face. Wouldn’t be the first time.”
The vape rises again. Second hit. Bigger lie.
Cash shoots me a questioning look, adjusting his glasses in the way he does when he’s cataloging information for later. I give him a slight shrug. I have no idea what’s going on here.
Before I can press further, Lucas loudly claps his hands together. “Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I need to check out this bed.”
He bounds through the open door into the bedroom and launches himself onto the center of the massive bed like he’s doing a full bellyflop into a pool.
“Ohhhhh my god,” he moans, spreading his arms and legs like he’s making a snow angel on the pristine white duvet. “This is heaven. I’m never leaving.”
Cash’s expression softens as he watches Lucas. “You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m also a cuddler,” Lucas announces, rolling onto his side and patting the empty space beside him. “Who’s joining me for a pre-dinner nap? Cash? You know you want to.”
The tension in the room dissipates like Kyren’s vape cloud. I catch Cash’s eye again, and he gives me a subtle shrug. Message received—we’ll table this discussion for now.
Whatever Kyren’s hiding, it can wait. My priority is Trinity. I need to figure out how to repair whatever damage has been done as soon as possible. I need to show her that I—that we—can be trusted.
I’ll get to the bottom of Kyren’s secret, eventually. But right now, there’s an omega who needs reassurance that she hasn’t made a terrible mistake bringing us here. And that matters more than anything else.