Chapter 9
ADAM
My phone buzzed across the tabletop again.
Silent mode or not, it was impossible to ignore. I didn’t bother picking it up. I already knew who it was.
Father.
He never left voicemails—never. Said it was a waste of his time.
And I knew exactly what would happen if I answered. The same old song and dance. He’d lined up yet another Omega for me to wine and dine, another carefully arranged match to secure our family’s legacy.
But I wasn’t in the mood for my father’s bullshit. Not right now. Not when my heartstrings were all tangled up over a certain lynx shifter.
I watched Fletcher through the picture window, kneeling in the grass, weeding the flower beds.
My lawn had never looked better—not even that one summer I’d hired a professional groundskeeper. That guy had promised big things, only to try and rob me blind before the season was over.
I didn’t miss the irony.
Since then, I’d been taking care of the big piece of land by myself. But honestly? It’d been way more enjoyable having Fletcher here to share the work.
Fletcher, whose shorts had slipped just low enough to flash the top of his ass-crack.
I’ll admit it—I stared. Could you blame me?
Grinning, I slipped out the door, shaking my head. Yeah, he had a nice ass. I’d give him that.
I made my way around to the side of the manor, where the hose was coiled up inside its reel like a slumbering yellow snake.
Fletcher should’ve taken that as a warning, but as usual, he was oblivious.
I smirked.
Unwinding the hose, I started watering the flowers, pretending to mind my own business. The pansies and tulips quivered as the water rained down over them, wetting their petals with droplets.
I did this for awhile. Long enough to give Fletcher a false sense of security. I knew he had to know I was out here with him; no one who’d suffered such abuse was that unaware of their surroundings.
I even gave a little wave when Fletcher looked over at me. He stared at me for a moment, then wiped his forehead with the back of his arm, waved, then went back to weeding.
Perfect.
I went around the house, flowerbed by flowerbed, getting closer and closer to where Fletcher was kneeling.
And then, when he wasn’t paying attention? I turned the hose on him and squeezed the trigger.
The ice-cold water jettisoned out of the hose and splashed his back, soaking his shirt instantly. He shrieked in surprise, then fell over, laughing.
“Adam!”
I chuckled. “What? It wasn’t me,” I said, feigning innocence.
“Bullshit.” Fletcher let out a real, full-bodied laugh, and damn if it didn’t light up my soul like a firework. He scrambled to his feet and started for the house, but I wasn’t letting him off that easily.
With a playful growl, I took off, chasing him across the yard with the hose, aiming the nozzle right at his ass and spraying him dead-on.
He shouted again, glee in his voice. “Oh my god, that’s cold!” he cried out between gales of laughter.
After a minute, he stopped fleeing and turned to face me instead.
I skidded to a stop just as he pounced, tacking me to the ground. The icy water instantly splashed over me, soaking my shirt and drawing out a sharp hiss of surprise.
Two could play that game.
We wrestled over the hose, fighting for control and spraying each other in the face, both of us laughing like idiots.
By the end of it, we were soaked, grass-stained, and streaked with mud. I was the first to collapse onto the grass, breathing hard but grinning like a madman.
“Fuck,” I uttered, half to myself.
Fletcher bit his lip. “Sorry. We got a little carried away.”
“Don’t be,” I told him. “It was fun. I had fun. Didn’t you?”
That earned me another bright, beaming smile from the Omega. “Yeah,” he said softly. “I did.”
With a groan, I rolled to my feet. “Alright, I’m going to go hop in the shower and clean up. Maybe I’ll even leave you some hot water…if you’re lucky.”
I smirked and took off for the house, not missing the way Fletcher’s cheeks turned a soft pink.
Inside, my shoes squelched across the hardwood floor as I made my way to the downstairs bathroom.
I stripped out of my soaked clothes, tossing them into the hamper, and stepped into the shower.
The hot water was a welcome contrast to the freezing hose, and I let myself relax under the spray, soaping up and rinsing off the mud and grass clippings.
It wasn’t until I stepped out, dripping wet on the rug, that I realized…
I’d forgotten both a towel and a change of clothes.
Well, damn. A mischievous idea crept into my mind.
Pausing at the bathroom door, I listened. Sure enough, Fletcher was out there, probably waiting patiently for his turn in the shower.
With a grin, I shook off as much water as I could, took a deep breath, and flung the door open.
And I bolted.
I streaked around the corner and up the stairs, naked as the day I was born, right past a slack-jawed Fletcher, and into my bedroom.
I slammed the door shut behind me, my heart pounding in my chest.
I glanced down at myself, still breathless, water dripping from my bare skin. Did I really just do that?
Yes. Yes, I did.