Chapter 21
chapter
twenty-one
Betty
Who the hell are all those men coming out of your house?
You running some sort of brothel now, red?
Bridget
Yep. $200 an hour.
Betty
I’d pay $300 for the one in the suit
Bridget
You can’t have him* but can I offer you the one on crutches?
He’s probably more your speed anyway.
Betty
The one with a mop on his head?
Bridget
That’s his hair.
But yeah. Him you can keep. He’s a total grouch and he hates my guts for no reason.
Oh and he called you an old bitch.
Betty
Never thought I’d find a true soulmate at my age.
Bridget
You should have a summer wedding.
With lots of sunflowers.
Betty
Fuck off, red.
Bridget
No can do, Bets. It’s grocery day.
The one in the suit is taking me to run errands in his fancy car, so your ice cream may not even be melted this time.
Betty
Better get two cartons then.
I could get very used to this view.
The interior of my X5 was custom-made. White cross-stitched leather. Black seams to match the shiny onyx exterior. Charcoal wood paneling.
I never realized how dull it felt until today.
Bridget sits in the passenger seat, filling the monochromatic cab with all her colors.
Late-morning sun slants in through the window, filling her auburn hair until the lighter red highlights glow.
Her buttery tank top looks brighter, too, along with the orange and pink flowers painted onto the front of her overalls.
Those are cute as hell. As a man who enjoys staying current on couture fashion, I never thought I’d be charmed by cut-offs covered in daisies. Or the kitschy blue-heart sunglasses perched on her pert little nose.
She noticed me looking at them and launched into a long explanation about her friends and their alphas.
Apparently, the omegas have a little tradition where they each get a pair of heart sunglasses when they meet their packs.
These, Bridget shares, were a gift from her best friend Emma when she got “engaged.”
They’re the perfect shade of bright Kings blue, which is adorable on her. Just like the freckles dusted over her cheeks and the teasing tilt of her smile.
“Where are you taking me, Boss?”
She’s been calling me that since I showed up for our move yesterday with a clipboard. I didn’t see how that was unusual, but the woman taunted me over it relentlessly; grinning and tacking my new nickname onto everything she said to me. At one point, she even saluted me.
I’m beginning to think our fiancée is a bit of a brat.
I can work with that.
“The nest store, primarily,” I reply, sliding my aviators on as I steer us out of her neighborhood. Or, rather, our neighborhood. It’s a beautiful place. She chose very well—selecting a small home in a quality location over something ostentatious and overpriced.
Each observation is a clue. To her character, her way of thinking. And, hopefully, her heart.
Because I’ve only been in this little omega’s home for one night, but my Alpha already knows: we aren’t leaving.
I can wait for her to reach the same conclusion, though. She needs to come to this realization on her own if I want it to stick. Twenty-four hours in, I already see how independent she is.
She’s also whip-smart. Her light eyes narrow over the rim of her sunglasses as she picks up on my most operative word. “Primarily?”
I nod, keeping my alpha energy soothingly solid. “We have a stop to make first.”
Suspicion pulls her lush lips down. “A stop?”
I smile despite myself—she’s just too damn cute, even when she’s glaring at me. “Yeah, sweetheart. One stop. But feel free to add to our itinerary if there’s somewhere you need to go.”
She wavers, trying to decide whether to stay wary or take my olive branch. In the end, she sighs. “I want to go to Whole Foods for our neighbor. I bring her groceries twice a week because she can’t drive.”
Knowing what I do about Bridget… Surprise lifts my brows. “You haul her food and yours home?”
She lifts a shoulder. “It’s no big deal.”
This omega barely gives herself credit for anything. I’m going to have to put a stop to that.
I mirror her shrug. “Right. It’s only food. A matter of life or death.” When she turns to me and blinks, I offer a kinder smile and repeat, “No big deal.”
She blushes. Embarrassed to take credit for her kindness. My hand has a mind of its own, finding her thigh and squeezing. When her perfume spikes, I rub my thumb along the silky skin and leave my palm there.
She stares down at it with so much disbelief, I might be amused if her doubt didn’t cleave my heart in half. Gripping her a little tighter, making sure she feels the intent behind the gesture, I lower my voice.
“You never told me why you agreed to all of this.”
Behind her endearing sunglasses, Bridget flutters her lashes. “I—uhhhh... You know why. Because of the press and my sister’s reputation and?—”
I shake my head. “No. I don’t mean our arrangement. I’m talking about the one you made with the guys last year when they came to you. Why did you agree to a fake engagement?”
The more I get to know her, the less I understand it. She’s one of the most genuine people I’ve ever met. Warm and bright and honest.
How did she end up faking anything?
Bridget’s creamy, unmarked throat works over a swallow. One she’s probably hoping I don’t notice.
But this little omega will learn soon enough—I notice everything .
Including the way her thick thighs have tensed under my touch, pressing together when goosebumps prickle the supple flesh. For a moment, I think her Omega may be responding as I hoped she would—feeling safer and cared for, knowing an attentive alpha is here to care for her.
Bridget’s scent quickly edges from tart to acidic, though. Her chin dips slightly. “I… My sister needed me out of their house. I couldn’t swing rent on my teaching salary, but I didn’t want to actually bond with a random group of alphas for the sake of real estate .”
Her nose scrunches adorably. I file the expression into my memory, knowing it will make me smile later. Right now, however…
She’s holding something back .
But trust is earned. And I will earn this beautiful girl’s trust. Until then, I can only ensure she knows I appreciate her willingness to share anything with me at all.
“Thank you, little blue,” I reply. “For telling me that.”
That same heartrending disbelief shifts over her features. Her plump mouth drops open. “I—You’re welcome?”
As we roll to a stoplight, I smooth my palm up her thigh and back down, casting her a serious look. “You can always tell me things, okay? I’m here to protect you and make your life easier, omega. That’s my job as your alpha. And you’re going to let me do it.”
Startled surprise lifts her thin red eyebrows for a moment before she schools her expression, putting on a pout. “Good lord,” she mutters, “why do I believe you?”
God, she’s incredible. Gorgeous and funny. Practical in ways she should never have to be—but it makes me proud nonetheless.
This isn’t some silly, aimless girl.
This is a fierce, intelligent woman . With a spine of steel and a heart that’s somehow every bit as soft as her luscious body.
Perfect .
Everything I’ve ever searched for. Scent-sensitivity be damned.
The light changes, and I glide forward, guiding the SUV past Winter Park’s most popular nest store. Bridget starts to protest, but the smirk tipping my lips stops her. That bratty pout becomes more pronounced.
I feel her debating whether to speak up, but within two minutes, I pull off the main road. Bridget sits forward, tugging her glasses off to scan the rows of vehicles around us.
“This is a car dealership.”
I pop my door open, nodding. “Yes, it is.”
By the time I round the front of my BMW and open her door, Bridget’s mouth hangs ajar again. She moves on autopilot, unbuckling her seatbelt and sliding onto the asphalt as she gapes at the rows of vehicles like mine.
“Did you… need a tune up?” she asks.
I shake my head, rubbing my hand down her back and settling it along the lower curve of her spine. “No, little blue,” I chuckle. “But you need a car.”
Golden midday light fills all the hollows of her face as it contorts in utter shock. “But I—You—How?—”
She’s wondering how I knew she didn’t have one.
I put it together fairly fast, actually, once we moved our gym gear into her garage, and never heard a peep about where she would park going forward.
That, coupled with the oversized basket on her well-loved bicycle and the worn tread on its tires, gave her away.
I move closer, slowly backing her into the closed passenger door.
“You’ll learn that I’m very observant. I figured out you didn’t have a car this week and went looking into our pack’s bank accounts.
The money Jesse allocated for you to get a vehicle is gone, but you don’t have one.
” I arch a brow. “Which philanthropy did you give it to?”
Because combing through those same accounts gave me a clear view of her spending. She doesn’t waste her “pay” from us on anything extravagant or illicit. She gives it away.
To people who need it more than her. Noble causes. Education efforts and environmental conservation. All of that on top of running the pack’s charitable trust. After scanning the books, I’m fairly sure Bridget single-handedly doled out more than ten million dollars last year.
If I ever doubted her motives or wondered how much of her generosity was self-serving, I never will again. Her mouth wobbles as she shakes with anxiety, telling how unhappy she is to have been “caught” sacrificing her own comfort for someone else.
Her voice drops into a petulant grumble as she ducks her head, hiding her gaze. Her sandaled foot restlessly toes the asphalt. “I did buy a car,” she mutters. “I just didn’t buy one for myself.”
Her blue eyes brighten with fervor when she turns them up to mine. She’s been reluctant to counter me directly, so far, likely because her Omega wants to appease my Alpha; no matter how much Bridget hates it. But this must be very important to her, because she squares her posture.
“My best friend’s brother’s pack runs the Ospreys’ football franchise.
They have an orphanage here in town, Osprey House, and we all support it with donations.
They’ve been able to expand and open two more houses, but one of the house mothers—the omega who runs the new location our pack’s trust now funds—mentioned that she didn’t have a car.
She was taking the bus at four a.m. to get to the house before any of the kids woke up and the night manager got off shift. ”
“So you bought her a car,” I guess.
Bridget sets her jaw like she’s preparing to go to the mat. “Yes. I did.”
I have to resist the urge to grin at her, sliding my hands to her hips and stepping close. Bridget’s gaze flies wide, then slides to the group of onlookers clustered at the entrance to the dealership. She settles, thinking I’m touching her for appearance’s sake.
That’s fine. If thinking this is fake helps her accept my attention, I’ll let her believe that.
“Very naughty, omega,” I rumble. “You should have told the guys you needed more money for a car of your own.” Her body trembles as I press my hips into her middle and stare down into her eyes. “I’ll have to make sure you learn your lesson.”
Fire sparks in her irises. “Which is what? Don’t be charitable?”
I shake my head, bending closer. “Which is: you come to your alphas. If there’s a problem, you come to me .”
For one glorious moment, her expression softens. Her chin quivers. And she looks so damn hopeful , it might break my weathered, brittle heart.
But she’s Bridget. So instead of melting, she starts to argue. The pulse of dominance I project pauses her mid-inhale.
I cup her face and press my lips to her forehead, hiding another smile when her lashes flit closed. “I don’t care how we ended up here or how long it lasts,” I tell her. “For now, I am your alpha. And you’re going to let me take care of you.”