CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT - BIRDIE
The next morning, I crawl over Hog’s sleeping body to peer out the window.
The sky is a clear blue, the clouds have drifted away, and sunlight glints on the crests of the waves.
I crack the window a few inches and take a deep breath.
The crisp, dewy scent of lilac is mingled with the briny air coming off storm-washed dunes.
It’s a beautiful morning, but when I glance back at the bed, Hog has pushed up onto an elbow and is studying me, not the view.
“All good?” he asks in a sleep-roughened rumble. From the way his eyes run over my bare legs, I’m pretty sure he’s not referring to the weather.
“All good,” I confirm, sauntering back over and threading my fingers through his beard.
He tilts his head back and I drop a kiss on his mouth, humming at the way our combined taste lingers on his tongue.
It seems that smoky almonds and salty caramel are actually pretty good together.
“Thank you for the dream catcher,” I tell him, leaning into the arm that wraps around my waist. “I was nightmare free.”
He sits up and swings his legs over the edge of the bed, drawing me between his knees. He presses a kiss to my chest, but there’s a tinge of uncertainty in his voice as he asks, “How about your back?”
I smirk, running my fingertips lightly over the scratches on his bare shoulder blades. “All marked up, just like yours.”
He makes a low, happy sound. “You don’t regret it?”
“Why would I? I just had the best sex of my life with the most handsome guy I know, and I have the claw marks to prove it.”
He chuckles, but he’s still looking at me shyly. “You’re serious?”
“That it was the best sex or that you’re exactly my type?
” I saunter over to the dresser and pull out some clothes, stepping slowly into a pair of silky lounge pants.
They’re pale pink, and so soft I catch my bottom lip between my teeth.
If I make a bit of a show of it, would anyone blame me with Hog’s honey-brown eyes burning into my skin? “Both, by a long shot.”
His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, so I head back over to him, a little swing in my step. “Now if you make my coffee the way I like it, you’ll be the perfect catch.”
“One sweet-as-sin coffee coming up,” he pronounces as he gets to his feet, “and then we can take your kite down to the beach. Maybe even bury Colt up to his neck.”
“Now you’re just showing off,” I snort, bumping his hip on the way to the door.
When we finally emerge from the kitchen, coffee and toast in hand, we find the other guys in the sunroom, the French doors open to the morning breeze.
“How bad is the damage?” Hog asks, sipping his coffee but keeping his arm loose around my waist.
“A few mangled ferns, some far-flung shingles, and a neighbor’s deck chair that went airborne,” Colt replies, sliding off the daybed and coming over to me for a kiss. He nuzzles my hair, then pulls back with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. “Ah, what the heck? Did you scent mark each other?”
“We did,” I say proudly, then glance at Axel’s face. It’s completely blank, and I feel my hackles start to rise. “Is that something you have a problem with, Pack Alpha?”
He frowns, but then his lips quirk, and a moment later he’s giving me a grin to rival Colt’s. “Best thing I’ve heard in a long time, actually.” He steps forward to kiss my cheek, then grabs Hog’s hand, pumping it as he claps him on his back. “I’m happy for you, brother.”
“And just so you know, you both now smell like sex-dipped taffy,” Colt adds, stealing a triangle of my toast. “Don’t get mad if you catch me following you around with my tongue hanging out.”
The next few days pass in a blur of beach walks, kite flying, and snoozing in the sunroom. Hog spends every night in my bed, and somehow, I always find my way onto my back with his mouth pressed into my pussy.
By the time Friday rolls around, Colt is convinced there is a hint of spring in the air, so we decide to go to a beachside tiki bar.
I spend a ridiculous amount of time on my hair, mesmerized by the hints of red and gold in the pink strands.
I use most of the products in Axel’s wicker basket, but leave it loose, swishing it around my shoulders like some kind of narcissistic flamingo.
Colt insists the dress code is beach casual, so I wear a pink seashells t-shirt with high-waisted jeans and a pair of sandals Axel bought on the boardwalk.
The guys all get to their feet as I walk into the living room, and I feel strangely self-conscious as their eyes lock on me.
“You need a jacket,” Hog says gruffly, already sliding his arms out of his suede coat.
Colt stops him with a snort, sauntering over to my side and placing a chaste kiss on my cheek. “She can wrap me around her if she gets chilly.” I raise my brows at him and he winks. “I checked the forecast. It’s gonna get chilly.”
“I have something,” Axel says, taking a black denim jacket from the back of the sofa. Even before he hands it to me, I can smell the cinnamon scent clinging to the fabric. “It was Charlie’s favorite. I didn’t even know he left it here until I opened my closet…”
And smelled his scent mate nestled amongst his things.
A stab of jealousy takes me by surprise, and I stare numbly at the jacket.
It’s stupid being envious of a ghost, but a moment ago as I entered the room, Axel’s gaze slid over me like a caress.
Maybe my senses are just heightened from the scent marking, but I don’t want to touch anything of Charlie’s… I just want to touch him.
“He’d want you to have it,” Axel says quietly. “We’ll take you shopping in Santa Rosa, and set you up with an online account, but until then, I know he’d want you to wear a little part of him.”
Just like you want to keep him close by wrapping me in his scent?
I force the thought aside and take the jacket, slipping it on.
It’s too wide across the shoulders, but the suede is soft, and the black shimmers against the pink of my t-shirt.
Colt moves my hair out from under the collar, his nose trailing along my temple as he breathes me in.
“Mmm. Caramel, cinnamon, and sasquatch. You smell like a holiday treat.”
A pang twists my stomach, and I glance up to catch Hog watching me, his eyes thoughtful. He’s way too observant, and I force a small smile. “Thanks.” I nudge Colt, who’s still hovering close. “Now, are you taking me for drinks, or was that just a way to get me out of your sweatpants?”
“There is only one correct answer to that question,” he replies with a throaty groan. “But getting you all liquored up comes first.” He slings an arm around my shoulders, nuzzling my hair. “Doesn’t mean we can’t have a naked nightcap, though.”
I pinch his ribs, but the mood has shifted, and I leave the house with a lighter heart.
There’s a definite nip in the air, and as uneasy as I feel about wearing Charlie’s beloved jacket, I’m grateful for the extra layer as we walk along the beach path.
I’ve only seen the tiki bar from a distance, but it draws us forward with its flickering torches and soft throb of music.
“Some of the décor is a little tacky,” Colt warns me, “but it’s got the best coconut shrimp and mochiko chicken on the mainland. ”
The fact that I’m approaching a tiki bar at all has already made this a night to remember, and I take in the carved totems and ceremonial paddles at the door with wide eyes.
There’s not a lot of Polynesian culture in Sulphur, Nevada, and I don’t care if some people find it tacky, because it feels like a magical world to me.
“Let’s grab a booth,” Axel says, leading us past glowing pufferfish lanterns, glass fishing floats, and shell-embedded light fixtures that cast a warm, moody glow over the bar.
The booth is lined with woven bamboo, and bright hibiscus flowers are arranged in a coconut shell in the center of the table.
Hog has slid into the booth first, and I follow, nestling under his arm.
He’s wearing dark wash jeans and a black button down, which puts him on the formal end of the dress code.
But the shirt makes his skin glow and brings out the honey-brown lights in his eyes, so I’m not complaining.
“You look good enough to eat,” I tell him, running a finger along the veins popping on his forearm.
I consider the fact that he’s rolled the sleeves back the best part of the evening so far.
“So do you,” he replies in his rough purr, running his thumb over my scent gland. Now that he’s claimed me, in our scratchy-matchy kind of way, he can’t seem to keep his hands off the sensitive patch of skin. “You have your knife with you?”
I blink at him. “Yes. Do we have to kill our bar snacks before we eat them?”
He smirks, but then his chin lifts and he casts a dark look around the bar. “Best to be safe. You’re drawing a lot of attention.”
I look around, surprised to find a few eyes lingering on our table.
But let’s be honest; they could just as easily be eyeing up Colt.
“I’ll grab some drinks,” Axel says, cutting through the tension. “Any requests?”
“Tequila maybe?” I glance at Colt. “How does the saying go? You haven’t been to the beach until you’ve licked the salt off someone else’s lips?”
He gives a delighted chuckle, and Hog kisses me, like he wholeheartedly agrees with that sentiment.
When Axel heads to the bar, Hog squeezes my shoulder and slides out the other way. “I’m just going to walk the perimeter.”
“This is meant to be a chill date,” Colt huffs, but scoots closer and hands me a big sticky menu. “Guess that just means more tequila and mochiko chicken for us.”
I glance at a bunch of dishes I’ve never seen before and push it back at him. “You order for me. I like the look of everything.”