Chapter 26
Beck
Rumors around here spread faster than a wildfire in dry grass, and today, it’s Lo’s name being tossed around like some damn rag doll.
Again.
Like this town doesn’t have anything better to fucking do.
I’m standing at the counter at the hardware store, trying to focus on the list in my hand. It’s nothing special, just a couple of things that Cassie wants for the house, but nothing in this damn town ever stays quiet.
I hear a voice. Bartender Theo Harlan’s. And I don’t need to hear much more than that to know what’s coming.
“Yeah, I’m telling you,” Theo says, his words carrying across the store as if he’s hoping everyone hears. “Lo is just like her family. Same damn scam. Ford’s next. He doesn’t even know what he’s walking into.”
My blood heats up in my veins at the mention of my packmate and my Omega before I even know what’s going on.
It’s a punch to the gut every time I hear someone throw Lo’s name in the dirt, but Theo? This is a man who knows better, and he’s been around long enough to see the damage done by the Marsh family. He should know how much she’s been through. How much she’s been hurt.
But no. He’s out here spreading lies as if they’re gospel.
I feel my fists clenching, my body stiffening, the muscles in my back tensing like a coiled spring. I don’t trust Theo as far as I can throw him, and hearing him talk about my Omega in that way makes every protective instinct I have flare to life.
“Ford’s just another mark,” Theo continues. “She’s a piece of work, and now she’s trying to pull him in. Just wait. He’ll find out soon enough.”
I don’t think. I just move.
The store is quiet except for the sounds of the few other people scattered around, but my footsteps are loud as I approach Theo. I don’t say anything at first. I don’t have to. He’s still running his mouth, oblivious to the storm that’s coming for him.
“Shut up,” I growl. It’s not just anger but something deeper, a primal instinct that pulls me to defend Lo, to shield her from the venom people are spitting.
How dare they speak about my Omega like that.
Theo freezes. The smug expression drops from his face, but he doesn’t back down. “What, Beck? You gonna take up for her now? She’s nothing but trouble, and we all know it.”
That’s it. My patience snaps. I grab Theo by the arm and pull him away from the counter, stepping into the aisle where there’s nobody around to overhear this mess.
“Listen here, Harlan,” I hiss, keeping on the right side of control, but just barely. “You don’t know shit about Lo. What you’re spreading isn’t gossip. It’s a damn lie. And if you don’t shut your mouth about her, I’m gonna make sure you regret it.”
Theo sneers, clearly thinking he has the upper hand. “What do you know about it? Toby’s been working at her home and watching her manipulate Ford.”
My eyes narrow. “Toby?”
Theo nods. “Yeah, he’s seen way too much.”
I want to rip his head off right now. Toby, that son of a bitch. What the hell is wrong with him?
“I don’t give a damn who’s spreading the word, Harlan,” I growl. “But if you keep running your mouth about Lo, I will pluck out every single one of your goddamn teeth until you’re eating mashed potatoes and overcooked green beans just like your fucking grandfather before he died.”
Theo holds my gaze, but the edge of his bravado is gone. The heat in my words is enough to make him swallow whatever protest he was about to make.
“I’m not the one you’re angry with, Beck,” he mutters, taking a step back. “But fine. I’ll keep my mouth shut.”
I nod once, turning on my heel and storming out of the aisle. I don’t need to waste another second on him.
I’m done listening to anyone talk about Lo in this way. She’s not some kind of scam artist. It’s bad enough that she’s been through hell. The last thing she needs is the people of this town, Theo and Toby specifically, making her the villain.
I’ll deal with Toby next. That asshole’s got a lot to answer for.
But for now, I’m going to make sure Lo knows I’ve got her back. She won’t fight this fight alone. Not while I’m breathing.
Quickly, I make my way to Lo’s place, anger still bubbling through my system, hot and raw. I can’t shake the image of Toby’s smug face, and the smile I’m about to wipe off it the moment I see him again.
But my fist uncurls when I see Lo’s front door. My Alpha screams to protect her, but not with my temper.
I take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm raging inside me before I knock. I can’t go in there all riled up; Lo doesn’t need that. She’s already been through too damn much.
I raise my hand and rap three quick knocks on the door, the sound of it echoing too loud in the quiet of the street. When the door swings open, I’m greeted by her wide eyes, the ones that are always holding back so much. She’s trying to keep everything inside.
I wish she’d let it out more.
She stares at me for a beat, then steps aside, wordlessly inviting me in.
Her place is a mess, clothes strewn around, a suitcase half-packed in the middle of the living room. The urgency in her movements isn’t lost on me. Something inside me tightens, a knot of possessiveness taking root in my chest. I know that look.
“Lo,” I start, rougher than I intended. “You’re leaving?”
She glances up, her dark eyes cautious, wary of something she won’t let me see. She nods, then turns her back to me as she picks up a jacket and shoves it into the bag.
“My family knows I’m here. It’s better if I stay with Ford and Hayes for now.”
Oh.
So she’s not leaving town?
Fucking hell, relief floods me like a painkiller.
Good. And with my packmates, she’ll be well protected.
Still, the knot in my chest hardens, my fingers itching with the urge to pull her close, to make sure she knows she also belongs with me.
I take a step forward, and she doesn’t even seem to notice until I’m right behind her. “You know I’m here for you too, right?”
She sighs, the sound heavy and full of words she simply won’t speak. “I know, but—”
I don’t let her finish. I grab her arms and whip her around to face me. Before she can protest, I crash my lips against hers and everything in my world snaps into focus.
I feel her. The softness of her body, the delicate heat radiating from her skin, melting into me. My hands are on her almost instantly, gripping her ass, drawing her close, feeling her curves under my fingers, the undeniable pull of her body against mine.
It’s not enough. I need more.
I crave all of her.
I want to take my time with her, taste her, feel her, claim her, until the only thing left in her mind is me.
I bite her lower lip, pulling a sharp gasp from her, and I don’t give her a chance to recover before I deepen the kiss. Before I lick my tongue into her mouth just so I can taste her.
Goddamn it, she tastes like cobbler on a cool autumn day. The rush of her breath against my lips sends a bolt of electricity through my veins, and I know right then that I’m not letting her go.
Not this time.
Her hands slide up to my chest, and I feel the flutter of her fingertips against my clothed skin setting me on fire. My muscles tighten involuntarily at the delicate touch, my breath catching in my throat.
God, she feels so soft. It’s maddening, the way her fingers trace the outline of my pecs, the warmth of her touch searing through the thin fabric of my shirt. I can’t stand it.
Can’t wait any longer.
My control snaps. It’s a dam breaking, all that restraint, all that self-control I’ve clung to for years, shattered in an instant. I need her, now.
The words explode in my mind, but I can barely hear them over the roar of my pulse. I want to feel her. All of her. Every inch. I need to touch her, let her know she’s mine.
“Lo,” I growl, thick with need, my hands already reaching for the hem of her shirt.
I don’t give her the chance to respond. I grab the fabric and rip her shirt open, the sound of it tearing in the air louder than anything else, and the sight of her exposed skin hits me in a shockwave.
Her breath hitches, but she doesn’t pull away. No, instead, she grabs my shirt and tugs it over my head in one swift motion. Her eyes rake over me. Hungry, desperate.
Just as desperate as I am.
Her chest rises and falls in quick, uneven breaths, and I can see it. Feel it. The tension in her body. The pull of her gorgeously peachy Omega scent wrapping around me in an invisible force, pulling us closer until there’s no space left between us.
Her fingers run over the rough, scarred surface of my chest, tracing the old burn mark on my forearm.
It should hurt, the way she touches it so softly, but instead, I feel a deep, primal satisfaction.
She’s marking me with her touch. She’s accepting me, scars and all, and it’s more than I can stand.
I reach down, grab the hem of her sports bra, my hands moving quickly, impatiently, as I tug it off with a yank, exposing the soft, round perfection of her breasts. The way they hang against her body, both of her nipples puckered and waiting for my tongue.
For my touch.
The sight of her, flushed and vulnerable in front of me, sends need straight to my groin. My mouth waters.
Mine.
I can’t wait any longer. I need to touch her. Taste her.
I need to feel her skin under my palms.
To remind myself that she is alive and well.
I push her back against the couch until we both drop down, feeling her softness sink into the cushions as I crawl over her, my body shaking with the intensity of it all.
She’s so warm beneath me, her legs instinctively wrapping around my hips, pulling me closer, as though she can feel the raw urgency in every movement I make.
Her hands are all over me now, her nails scratching lightly against my skin as she yanks my pants down with her feet, her touch delicate but desperate. She’s shaking, just as I am, her breath coming in little gasps as she slips her fingers into the elastic of my boxers, trembling with anticipation.