Chapter 3
I’m quiet as I wait for Deacon to come back after parking the rig, a rope in each hand.
Watching him try to back up in front of all those people had my anxiety spiking.
Years of having to get it right or get yelled at came rising to the surface, so when the pretty omega thrust her help upon us, I was eager for Dee to let her.
Can we say t-r-a-u-m-a?
Maverick’s cucumber melon fragrance alerts me of his approach before I turn my head to see him. “Hell of a woman, huh?”
“Mhmm. Yep.” That’s all I can muster because ‘watching that gorgeous omega take charge and show off her competence both scared me and made my dick rock fucking hard’ is not really an appropriate reply.
Mav leans against a piling and strips off his soaking wet shoes and socks, making faces and muttering something about flip flops. The socks make a gross kerplunk sound when they hit the boards of the dock.
“I don’t know why you opted to get in the water when you were trying to guide Deacon.
” I can’t help but needle him a little. He’s one of those manly-man alphas that insists their knot means they know everything, so every once in a while I make sure to knock him down a peg.
I love him anyway, though. I mean, I love his knot, too, but it’s the principle of the thing.
I’ve never let my knot override my capacity for thinking, but then again I’ve always been on the softer side. Nothing wrong with that in my opinion. It just means omegas tend to gravitate to me for cuddles and comfort. I’m sure not complaining about that.
But it takes all kinds, and a good pack is balanced in personalities.
My soft sides, Mav’s cockiness, and Deacon’s dominance mix pretty well together.
But I can’t help thinking we’re still missing our center.
Our omega. Maybe that’s why I was instantly attracted to the fiery one who just took charge of the situation.
Whoever our omega is will need that strength and confidence to push back on Maverick and Dee.
I just hope she’ll also let me provide some of the other things.
Two more boats have launched by the time Deacon comes back from parking the truck.
Which is only mildly embarrassing. Mav helped me secure the lines to the cleats further down the dock so I wasn’t sitting there in the way, looking like a scolded puppy whenever one of the more seasoned boaters glared my way.
I’m sure they think we’re rich kids who have no idea what they’re doing, but that’s only partially right.
We are pretty well off thanks to some well timed investments I made with the pack accounts years ago, and this speedboat is new.
But Deacon and Mav grew up going to a lake house together as kids with their families.
I’ve joined them a few summers now, but the boat is already there in the water.
This is the first time Deacon’s had to trailer one and it’s a lot harder than it looks.
Deacon hops in and drops the motor, getting the boat started. Mav and I untie the ropes when he’s ready, and then we’re underway. Thank the gods, because I really think I may have expired from embarrassment if we had to sit there much longer.
Dee is unusually quiet while we putter slowly out of the no-wake zone. His shoulders are tense and his pupils are a little wide. Mav notices, too.
“Hey Dee, you good over there? You look a little stressed,” Maverick teases. I roll my eyes because of course he’s a little stressed after that fiasco. Mav doesn’t know when to quit, though. “You need water? A beer? Maybe a blow job?”
I choke on my own water. Gods, he’s an idiot. Usually, Deacon would have some smart comeback, but he remains quiet, which is worrisome.
“Hey Dee,” I hedge, “seriously, you okay? Do you need one of us to drive for a bit?”
Deacon finally focuses on us instead of some vague point in the distance, his expression serious. “I think… I…”
“Spit it out, man, you’re scaring Jake,” Maverick says.
“I think that omega is our scent match.”