Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
BECKETT
R emoving my glasses, I rub my temples. Angel and Tate are at each other’s throats, and I’m about to throttle them both.
“Enough!” I shout. They freeze, turning to look at me. I never raise my voice, so they know that I have reached my limit.
“Thank you. Now that I have your attention, we have an hour before our flight leaves. We are already checked in, and the airport is aware that you are here, so they will do your security personally.”
I press the button on the side of my tablet, then place my glasses back on. I should have just worn contacts, but I was hoping to rest on the flight.
“There are only five passengers on the red-eye to LA, so as long as you don't cause a scene, you should be able to stay undetected.”
Angel sighs, rubbing his jaw. He hasn't shaved in a few days, and he has a delicious scruff.
Tate grunts, and I look over at him. Raising an eyebrow, he gives me a cocky smirk, crossing his arms.
“As for your father, Tate… Can one of you call him back? He's starting to give me an ulcer,” I grumble.
“Yeah, he can wait until we touch down in LA though. I could care less about his new stipulations. We are fucking Rock Gods! We don't need to find an omega and settle down,” Tate mutters before shifting to stare out the window.
The snow is coming down harder, and the line of cars honking at us is getting longer.
“You should get inside and up to the gate. People are going to start noticing the limo,” Ken, the guys’ driver states, after opening the partition separating us.
Angel looks behind us and winces. “I told you we should have just gone with the blacked out SUV.”
“Wasn't possible with the girl screaming your name and chasing you half a block,” I remind him, and he groans, rubbing his eyes with a yawn.
“Yeah,” he sighs, then grabs a leather jacket, slipping it over his black hoodie and pulls the hood over his head.
Tate buttons up his peacoat, and I fix my zip-up. I'd usually be wearing a suit, but I didn't have time to change after the gym. I am not dressed for this weather, but thankfully the doors are right outside the car.
“So we get in and up to the VIP elevator. Keep your heads down and move quickly,” I remind the guys, and they grunt in unison.
Sliding closer to the door, I grab my backpack and duffle bag, slipping it over my shoulder.
“Wait, is that all you’re wearing?” Angel comments, pointing to my hoodie.
“Yeah, but I’ll change on the plane.”
“Fuck that,” he mutters, unzipping his bag and grabbing another coat. “We don’t need you catching a cold,” he says, handing it to me.
Rolling my eyes, I slip my bag off my shoulder and quickly put it on. It’s warm and smells like him: chimney smoke and pine. Delicious.
“There, that’s better,” Tate says before shoving a dark-blue beanie over my head with a grin.
Laughing, I push him away and adjust it. We may all be alphas, but I like it when they take care of me. I didn’t have a family that took the time to care, let alone be bothered with my well being.
Grabbing my bag again, I open the door and take a deep breath of the fresh, cold air. The car was stifling with the heater on full blast. I glance over my shoulder at Angel and Tate.
“Ready?” I ask, fixing my glasses and stepping onto the sidewalk. People are shouting and yelling at us for taking so long. Have to love New York, especially during the holidays.
The passenger side window rolls down, and I move over to talk to Ken as the guys slip inside the airport, hopefully going to the VIP elevator, like I told them to.
“I’m going to find a hotel for the night, then start the drive to LA. If you need anything in the meantime let me know,” Ken says, and I nod.
“Have a good night. We should be fine from here,” I tell him, and he sits up straight in his seat before rolling the window back up.
Turning, I rush inside and sigh as the warmth hits me once more. Damn, it’s cold. Looking around, I don’t see the guys, so I walk over to the check-in desk and grab the itinerary and papers waiting for me.
Perks of being VIP: no line.
“Thanks,” I tell the girl behind the counter, and she blushes, looking away quickly. Laughing, I shake my head as I continue toward the elevator.
As I press the button, then wait, I take in all the decorations. We haven’t had time to do anything festive with the back-to-back concerts, and press interviews. I wonder if the guys are going to want to decorate their tour bus.
I should make a note to get in touch with Cristie. She would probably do it for me. As I’m contemplating things, my phone rings. Digging into the pocket in my zip-up under Angel’s coat, I grab it and quickly answer.
Shit! I should have checked who’s calling. I swear this man lives to make me ill. I wasn’t kidding about him giving me an ulcer.
“Beckett, where is my son?” Russel Baron, alpha to the Baron pack and Tate’s father barks.
“Tate’s currently going through security, which is where I am headed at the moment. How may I help you, Sir?”
“You can help me by opening your fucking emails and approving the list of names I sent to you. We have to line up the right omegas for the next two months. I am tired of them blowing me off. It’s time to settle.” I continue to listen to him rant about the same old shit.
It’s getting tiresome. The elevator finally opens, and I have an excuse to end his tirade.
“I will inform them as soon as I can, Sir, but I am about to enter a no signal zone. Once I am settled on the plane, I will go over the emails and give you their top five picks. Have a good rest of your night, Sir.”
I end the call before he can continue and sigh, leaning against the mirrored wall of the elevator, I close my eyes and take a few breaths. Tate, Angel, and I are pack, and I know they aren’t ready to add anyone new to our family.
Not only are they the lead singers of the band Knotty Trip, but they run a non-profit for disabled veterans. We don’t have the spoons to settle down just yet. Schedule is crazy enough.
The elevator dings, signaling that I have reached the top floor. Opening my eyes, I yawn. Tate is waiting for me with a grin on his handsome face and offers me his hand. I give him a thorough once over, checking that nothing has happened in the last ten minutes or so and release the breath I was holding when he looks okay.
Their fans can be crazy, and now that his father has slipped up and told reporters about him wanting his son to start a family, the omegas have become wild. Case in point, just a few hours ago, Angel had to run for his life when he found a fan hiding in the laundry bin at the gym, that’s supposed to hold soiled towels.
Taking his hand, I hold it until we reach the room where they have a guard checking our luggage and running a wand over Angel. He’s laughing and signing a fluffy pink notebook for a little girl in the corner.
She squeals when Tate enters and he grins, lifting our hands to give me a sweet kiss on my knuckles before dropping them and moving over to her. She starts to babble about one of his songs, and I smirk.
No one knows it because I hate the spotlight, but I actually write most of the lyrics for Knotty Trip. I love being a part of their dream, even if it’s in the shadows, though I am known for being the best assistant they have ever had.
Not that I would ever give up my job for anything. It keeps us close.
I have known Angel and Tate almost my whole life. I am a few years younger, but they were my neighbors until my mother passed away. She loved substances more than her son. I spent a lot of time over at the Baron’s. Eating, playing video games, and just enjoying my childhood the best I could.
Tate and I didn’t start officially dating until last year, when I confessed my feelings for him after a night of celebrating. I don’t drink for a reason, and my low tolerance had my filter non-existent.
I never thought Tate would feel the same way. He can be an asshole at times, but when it comes to the people he loves and his fans, he’s a completely different person.
“Now, I don’t know who is more excited, me or Angel,” he says, crouching down, so the little girl can wrap her arms around his neck and give him a hug. There is a woman off to the side and she has tears in her eyes.
I notice the little girl looks frail and when I glance at the woman again, I see that she’s holding arm braces in her hand. Oh shit!
I quickly move over to the woman and offer her my hand. I totally forgot about this meet and greet, and by the look of things they have been waiting for a long time.
“Ma’am please excuse our lateness. With the events of this afternoon, I will be honest and admit that this meeting slipped my mind. Please allow me to compensate for your time with concert tickets and a flight to see the band play next month in Connecticut.”
The woman gasps and throws herself into my arms. Her voice wobbles.
“You don’t need to do that. We would have waited days to meet you guys, but thank you. This is the best Christmas gift you could ever give to me and my Isabella.”
“It’s our pleasure.”
Watching the guys with Isabella, I snap a few photos after her mother, Maia, signed a photo release. I don’t plan to use this as clout, but I would like to add these sweet moments to their social media.
It’s rare to catch a genuine smile on Tate’s face. His blue eyes sparkle under the twinkling lights from the holiday decorations. He looks up at me with a grin, and I can admit I’m starting to get hard.
Not the time or place!
My phone rings, alerting me of an alarm I set for the flight, and Angel frowns. “Well my dear, Isabella, it seems our time has come to an end, but how about a quick song before we go?”
Tate climbs to his feet and moves over to the guitar case in the corner. He never goes anywhere without it. Angel takes a seat at the small table and helps Isabella sit on his lap.
“Is this okay?” He checks with her mom, and she nods. Lifting her phone, she looks at me for permission.
“We usually don’t allow personal videos, but if it’s okay with Tate and Angel, I’ll allow it,” I state, and Angel scoffs.
“It’s fine.”
Tate stands behind Angel, and I move out of the way as they perform a quick holiday carol for Isabella and her mom. It’s not an original, but a classic and when Isabella joins them in the chorus my heart thaws a little more.
After the final note plays, and the guys say their goodbyes, I check the monitor in the hall, showing our flight. We still have maybe thirty minutes before we will be boarding, but we need to get to our gate. I’m sure the guys are going to want something to eat as well.
“I hate my dad, but I want one of them,” Tate mutters as he meets me over by the elevator.
Taking my bag from me and placing the strap over his shoulder, he grabs my hand again. I glance at him. “Want what?”
“A kid. I don’t want to settle down yet, but I want the way a child loves unconditionally no matter what. I want one of them. With you and Angel. Maybe we could just find a surrogate.”
I’m at a loss for words as he tugs me into the elevator, and Angel joins us. I know that his ex-girlfriend did a number on him and that’s one of the reasons that he’s fighting finding an omega, but…
“Just consider it, okay. I will do the stupid dates so my dad will get off our backs, but I’d rather just keep our family small.”
Angel grunts, agreeing, and I nod. The elevator stops, and I walk over to our gate. Angel and Tate are talking about food, and I’m about to chime in when I smell it. The richest peppermint mocha. I can almost taste the smooth chocolate on my tongue. My mouth waters, and my pants tighten.
I’m not using any scent blockers, because I like to know if someone is going to be a threat.
Glancing around, I notice a cute blonde cuddled up in a chair in the corner. She seems to be arguing with someone on the phone, and when her gray eyes meet mine, then flick over to Angel, I know that we are fucked.
Who would have thought I’d find my perfect match in an airport.