Chapter Eight
When we get to the pack house, we're drenched again by the time that we make it inside. The rain just doesn't seem to be letting up anytime soon. Saint opens the door for me, and we're greeted with their own Bear. I let him sniff my hand before going in for pets so that he hopefully remembers me. Of course, just like any male, he immediately forgoes the offered hand and sticks his face in my crotch. Saint chuckles and walks away, leaving me to deal with it. Grabbing the pup's face, I squeeze his cheeks between my hands and rub his face and ears as I baby-talk him the whole time.
"What I want to know," Banks says, coming around the corner. "Is what does a guy have to do to be greeted like that?"
I raise up and tap my chin. "I don't know. Be a dog."
He laughs, shaking his head. "There are so many ways I could take that I'm not going to."
"In that case," I tell him, throwing my arms around his middle for a hug. "you earn a good morning."
"I'll take it," he says, wrapping me up and lifting me off my feet. When he sets me back down, his nostrils flare. Much like Bear, I get the feeling he knows exactly what happened last night. He must scent Saint on me, but being a gentleman, he doesn't say anything about it. Keeping an arm around my shoulders, he leads us into the kitchen where I can smell breakfast cooking.
Henry and Lawrence are already at the table, the latter on his phone and the former reading a newspaper. Keaton is over by the stove stacking him a plate high with pancakes while Saint makes us both a cup of orange juice. We stopped for coffee on the way over, but I've already drank it, obviously. Long night equals caffeine consumption at an ungodly rate.
Keaton pauses on his way by and presses a kiss against my temple before carrying onward to the table. I'm hungry but I go to greet the last two of the pack before I make myself a plate. Throwing my arms around Lawrence's shoulders from behind, I give him a good squeeze, giving him just enough time to pat my arm before I move to Henry. We aren't on the same touching level yet as I am with some of the others, so I put my arm across his shoulder and look down to see what he's reading. His arm goes around my hips and, at that point, I don't really care what he's reading. As long as it's not another murder, and it's not.
By the time that I've greeted them both, Banks has already stacked some pancakes and bacon on a plate for me and set it on the table. I smother it in syrup and dig in as they start talking to each other. I'm halfway through before I notice Banks and Keaton sitting across the table staring at me.
Casting my eyes around, I see they're not the only ones. "What?"
Bank's tongue comes out to lick his bottom lip before he smiles. "Must've had a long night to be so hungry."
I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. I glance to Saint for help, which immediately has Banks cracking up. Keaton tries to hide his smile as he elbows Banks.
"Don't let him get at you," Henry states, rolling his eyes. "He's just teasing you because he's jealous it wasn't him."
"Damn right I am," Banks agrees, putting his elbows on the table and leaning into his hands. "I'm also intrigued. The one person to ever truly capture the attention of our badass, impenetrable pack alpha."
"That is actually impressive," Lawrence pitches in.
Saint's expression is asking him, really?
It makes me giggle slightly before pressing my lips tightly together to keep it from happening again. They all smile at the sound. Even Saint himself. He may be acting his normal serious self, but there's something in his expression and the way that he's carrying himself this morning that seems different. Almost like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. I remind myself to ask him about it later.
"Any who," Banks says, switching the subject. "We've got to go to the firehall today to check in. Want to come with us?"
Looking between him and Keaton, I can't keep a straight face, knowing I'd love nothing more than to spend some time with them today.
After breakfast, the three of us load up in Keaton's truck and head down to the firehall. The way they joke and tease each other has my stomach hurting and in tears by the time we roll up outside.
"Now," Banks is explaining to me, "if you just so happen to run into any other firemen in here, I'm going to need you to remember that you've already captured the heart of your own two heroes, okay? Don't be giving these boys in here false hope."
I know he's teasing me the way he did Keaton the entire ride over here, but I'm not so sure that he's kidding about capturing their hearts. It makes my own feel funny in my chest. As we walk in, there doesn't seem to be anybody around, but there's a loud ruckus coming from somewhere toward the back.
As we make our way there, I finally see what it's about. A huge shirtless guy is on the floor doing pushups next to a woman. Her blonde hair is pulled back in a ponytail, and for a second, I think it's the chick from the bar. As soon as her head lifts to lock eyes with me, I know it's not her. This is the prettiest woman I think I've ever seen in my life. Her face is perfectly symmetrical with big, blue eyes to go right along with that long, blonde hair. Let's not even mention the fact that she's stacked for days. A big chest, round butt, and is competing against Mr. Muscles for who can do the most pushups.
The rest of the men standing around are either cheering or counting loudly. The atmosphere is intoxicating, making me want to join in with them. Keaton takes my hand and tucks it into his side. I'm peering up at him when there's loud cheering and groans as a heavy thud hits the floor. Mr. Muscles has collapsed, leaving blondie the winner.
She pushes herself up, not looking the slight bit exhausted and taps muscles on the shoulder. "Better luck next time."
He slaps the floor as she chuckles and saunters over toward us, bringing with her the strong alpha scent of cedarwood. Holding out a hand to me, she introduces herself, "I'm Aurelia, pretty thing. Who are you?"
Banks smacks her hand down gently and steps slightly in front of me, "This is Darci. She's with us. No touching."
I'm still reeling over the fact that this drop-dead gorgeous woman called me pretty when she smiles, and I swear, I hear angels sing.
"Chill, Watson," she says. "You and Johns bring an unmated omega in here and expect someone not to notice this gorgeous creature."
She doesn't bother even looking at him as she talks, speaking directly to me, adding, "If you ever get tired of the testosterone overdrive, you know where to find me."
Bank's chest puffs out like a rooster and moves like he's going to follow her. Keaton grabs his arms, so I do the same. He glances down at it, and shakes his head like he's trying to chase away whatever negative thoughts he's feeling. Taking the hand on his arm, he leads us upstairs to show me around. There's a small kitchen where they sometimes cook dinner. And an actual real life fireman pole that they, unfortunately, refuse to let me slide down. I try not to pout about it too much, knowing good and well with as clumsy as I am that I'd probably hurt myself for even thinking about trying it.
Then we go back downstairs where it seems the ten or so guys that were down here have dispersed, going I have no clue where. The two of them stop by an office with an older gentleman inside, leaving me to sit on the bench right outside with strict instructions not to move or let anyone touch me. When they come back out five minutes or so later, I'm still where they left me, having not broken the rules since I haven't even seen anyone.
The man behind the desk steps out behind them. "So, Ms. Levine, I hear my boys are courting you."
"Yessir," I confess, standing to face him.
He nods. "About time Pack Coffey finally thinks about settling down. You let me know if these boys give you any trouble."
"Yessir," I say again, sounding like I'm on repeat.
He smiles behind his thick mustache before walking back into his office.
I let out a whoosh of air. "I felt like I was in trouble or something."
They laugh as Banks throws an arm around my shoulders and Keaton says, "Yeah, that's just the way the chief has about him."
Teasing, I pull the pits of my shirts away from my body and waft them a couple times. "I feel like I'm sweating now."
Laughing again, they lead me over to one of the big, red trucks parked in the bay. Keaton opens the driver's side door and motions me inside, "Up you go."
My eyes go wide. "Aren't there rules about civilians inside the vehicles?"
He shrugs like he doesn't care as Banks sticks his head over my shoulder. "Don't you ride in Saint's car?"
Turning my chin to grin at him, I answer, "Yeah, but I'm a consultant for the department. You going to let me go out and fight fires with you?"
His expression turns sour instantly. "No. It's too dangerous. Come to think of it, you shouldn't even be working with Saint."
"Stop that," I tell him. "I'll get in the truck. Don't turn grumpy."
Keaton is not even trying to hide his laugh as he helps me up in the driver's seat. I look around at all of the equipment and buttons in complete awe. There's no way I'd remember what all of this does. I glance back out at them. "What do you think? Would I make a good firewoman?"
Keaton grins, knowing I'm teasing Banks again. Who, of course, gets his panties in a twist. "Okay, come on, get down."
He holds out his arms to me like I'm a child, and I let him pull me out. As soon as my toes touch the floor, his lips are on mine. When I'm finally able to come up for air, I'm lightheaded and might need to be saved after all.
"Tease me again, baby," he warns. "I'm the master at it."
Considering he just kissed me into oblivion, I'm going to vote that he's right...for now. I'm sure I can find a way to get him back for it later. However, now that he's got my heart racing, all I seem to be able to think about is the way that the two of them look in their navy-blue cargo pants and black boots. Both with navy t-shirts on that strain dangerously at the biceps. One light hero and one dark, which is ironic, considering their personalities are opposite their appearances.
I clear my throat quietly. "So, how does one train to become a firefighter? Is there a school or training facility?"
"Actually, we have the academy literally in our backyard," Keaton offers, taking my hand and leading us toward the back again.
We go outside where it's still pouring rain. Thankfully, there's awnings over the walkways to where he's leading us. There are several buildings back here. One of which looks like it's been on fire before. There are rope walls and a huge tower with lots of stairs. I look all the way up to the top, reminded of the way I have to look at Lawrence, making me chuckle.
"What's so funny?" Banks asks, also looking up to see if he can spot it.
"The tower just kind of reminded me of how I look up at Lawrence," I answer honestly, making both of them laugh.
"That's fair," Banks says. "Know what that is for?"
I shake my head and take a guess, "Exercise?"
He does that thing where he licks his bottom lip before grinning. Jumping in front of me, he leans down and presses his shoulder in my stomach before lifting me off the ground and taking off running toward the stairs.
"Oh my god, Banks," I shout, slapping his ass. "Put me down. Don't do that. Don't go up there."
"You better not let her get hurt!" Keaton calls after us. "We'll both be dead men."
The yelling has attracted a small crowd. One blonde head sticks out in particular. I see her shaking it back and forth in disbelief.
"You're not scared of heights, are you?" Banks asks as we're halfway up.
"Hell...of...a...time...to...ask...me...now," I tell him, each word broken by the heft of his shoulder into my gut. It doesn't hurt, but in this position it's easier to see the ground and people down there growing further away and smaller by the second.
By the time we make it to the top, I'm clinging to his back for dear life. I trust that he won't drop me, but we're high up. He sets me on my feet and has to steady me with a hand before letting me go. And to make matters even worse, I'm pretty sure I'm more out of breath than he is.
I smack his hard stomach with the back of my hand. "Don't ever do that again."
"Why?" he asks. "Don't like the rush of not knowing what's going to happen?"
His question gives me pause. "Is that what it's like?"
"Every single time," he replies quietly. "Any given fire on any day has the potential to get out of hand."
"Are you trying to warn me?" I ask.
"That's not what I set out to do by bringing you up here," he admits. "but now that we're addressing it. Yeah, I guess I am. You have the right to know what you're signing up for with us."
I step into his space and weave my arms around his middle, raising my chin to look him square in the face. "I might be an omega, but I'm not a weak one. If you guys can handle being heroes, then I make the promise that I can handle the stress of not knowing."
Taking my face between his hands, he kisses me again. Softer this time. Slowly savoring the moment. When we finally pull away from each other, we stand together in our embrace for a little while longer, listening to the rain on the roof of the tower.
"We should probably head back down," he says. "Aurelia probably already called Saint to try to get me in trouble."
Hearing her name out of his mouth makes my nose scrunch up. The earlier feelings of her being perfect fly off the side of this tower as jealousy rears its ugly head.
He makes it down a few steps before realizing that I stopped. Turning around, his brows furrow as he frowns. "What's wrong?"
"Are you guys' good friends with her?" I ask.
It takes a moment for his mind to catch up to what we're even talking about. Then he laughs, trying to hide it as he comes the few steps back up to me. He hugs me around the middle, pressing a kiss to my lips. "You're cute when you're jealous. Baby, when I tell you that you've got nothing to worry about with her, trust me, you've got nothing to worry about. It's you we should be more worried about. Her pack is on the prowl for an omega. She's got no use for your beta or alpha. I can promise you that."
I love the way that he phrases that and calls them mine. It soothes down the bitter taste of jealousy, and we start walking down again. This time hand in hand like he doesn't want to let me go.
We're about halfway down when I ask him, "What is this tower even for?"
He chuckles. "Exactly what I showed you it was for. Except, we don't usually use real people. We'll use weighted dummies sometimes. Mostly, we race to the top carrying our truck's water hoses."
"Other than all the steps, that doesn't sound so bad," I tell him
He barks out another laugh. "Don't know how much those things weigh, do you?"
I shake my head. As soon as we get to the bottom, I physically see the tension leave Keaton's body. Knowing he was so stressed; I go over and throw my arms around his waist. Thankfully, the crowd lost interest and no one is down here except for him. Banks leads us inside so he can let me feel just how much the hoses weigh, and I realize I've thoroughly misjudged it since it weighs probably more than I do. Or so it feels.
"Want to go for lunch?" Keaton asks while Banks loads the hose back on the truck.
"Sure," I tell him, reaching for his hand this time.
They drive us over to a local burger place. We enjoy a good lunch while I listen to them tell stories on each other about all of the shenanigans they've gotten up to over the years.
"I bet you were both handfuls for your packs growing up," I say, finishing off my burger and sitting back with a satisfied sigh.
They laugh, and Banks explains, "Actually, Keaton here used to be a good boy until he met the likes of me, and I corrupted him."
"And why can I totally see that being true?" I tell them.
When we get back in the truck, Banks asks, "Are we taking you back to the pack house or are you wanting to go home?"
"As much as I really would love to spend the rest of the day at the pack house, I've got a lot to do that I've been slacking on lately," I admit sadly.
Keaton snaps up the hand closest to him. "It's okay. We've got all the time. Don't be sad."
"We could hang out with you for a little while," Banks offers, wiggling his eyebrows.
I laugh. "Then I really will get nothing done."
He nods, making a funny face. "That's probably true."
We do a quick exchange of numbers before Keaton pulls us out onto the road.
Arriving back at my tiny house, I give Banks a quick kiss before Keaton walks me to my door. The rain is continuing to pour, creating huge puddles in the yard. I slip in one, but thanks to Keaton's quick reflexes, he's able to grab me before I faceplant into the mud.
"Thanks," I tell him as we make it under the porch.
He looks out toward the puddles, "That's going to be dangerous if it keeps raining like this."
"I'll be fine," I say. "I always seem to have a hero around me lately."
I don't even care if it sounds cringey as hell. It's worth the quarter in the cheesy jar for the smile that it earns me from him. Going up on my toes, I lift my chin. He brings his lips down to slant against mine. Where Banks takes what he wants, Keaton waits patiently for it, kissing me like we've got all the time in the world and never have to stop. It's soft and it's sweet. Just like warming myself around the campfire that he smells like.
By the time that we separate and he dashes back to the truck, I'm regretting my decision not to go with them. Something is still nagging at the back of my mind about last night, too. Walking the porch, I look for any other footprints other than mine or the pack. Glancing around the edges, I realize that is a lost cause. If there was any kind of evidence left, it's long gone from the continuous downpour. Not like it matters, because I was delirious with not having sleep and the storm had me seeing things. Still, I glance around before going inside and locking the door behind me.