Pack Deception: Part Two, page 8
Not this shit again. “He knows she went into heat! What was I supposed to do? He was in another fucking country!” I can’t keep having this conversation with him.
“How about show a little decency? If the roles were reversed, he would have told you immediately. Even if there wasn’t anything you could do to help. His first thought would have been Summer’s well-being and then making sure you knew what was going on with your mate. Because he, oh, I don’t know, loves you.”
I slam on my brakes, ignoring the angry honk from behind us. “Are you trying to imply that I don’t love Mason? Because I swear to fuck, Hudson, I will beat the fuck out of you.”
The smile he gives me in answer is not at all reassuring. It’s damn near antagonistic. Sarcastic. “Oh, spare me your macho-man bullshit. Of course, you love him. But your love is selfish sometimes. When she went into heat, you were thinking about what was easiest for you. You knew Mason was struggling. You guys were in a weird limbo and have been ever since finding Summer. So, instead of texting Mason and potentially making things more strained between you two, you did nothing. Said nothing. And it pissed him off. So now you have to man up and fucking deal with it. Apologize.” Hudson is almost yelling by the end of his tirade.
I’m frozen in my seat. The person behind me lays on their horn until I let off the gas and get moving again. Is that true? At the time, I convinced myself I didn’t want Mason to feel like he had to rush back and ruin his chances at winning that grant. But maybe that was just what I told myself.
Hudson is definitely half-right. Mason and I’s relationship has been strained since we met Summer. Not that it is by any means her fault. We both love her too much to throw any blame her way, and she didn’t choose us as her mates. The Goddess did that. So that means if there is any fault to be had, it lands on me. I let the rift between us get bigger and bigger.
And for what? Because I was too fucking chicken shit to have the hard conversations? Mason deserves better than that.
“Jesus, man, relax.” Hudson says, breaking me out of the downward self-deprecating spiral I was headed in. He wrinkles his nose at the way my scent sours with my mood. “It’s going to be okay. You were just a jackass. It’s not like you went out of your way to hurt anyone on purpose. Just apologize, and you’ll be fine. Maybe bring him home some of those cinnamon butter rolls he loves. It’ll be fine.”
“Right. Yeah.” I nod. I can do that. Fuck, this is going to suck. I hate talking about my feelings. But Mason eats that shit up. He’s so in tune with his now, so I’ll have to spill my guts a little for him to realize I’m being genuine before he accepts any apology. The rolls will definitely help, though.
A few minutes later, I pull into the driveway, and Hudson’s phone pings. A full-blown belly laugh rips from him, he snickers, and then his fingers are flying on the screen.
“Care to share the joke?” I grumble. Clearly, I’m still in my feelings a little.
“Oh man, look at this,” he says, still laughing, and turns his phone for me to read. My eyes scan the small print, but immediately, the words ‘love you’ hop out at me.
“Who…?” I start to ask, and my eyes snag on the recipient of the text. “You told Summer you love her?” Shock. That’s all he hears in my voice. Not that he loves her. Fuck, we all love her. But we’ve had more time to ruminate on the mate bond. We literally just laid it all out for her last night.
“Oh yeah. I told her last night but then pretended to fall asleep so she didn’t have to say anything back. Then again this morning. And I’m going to text her all day so she gets used to hearing it.” The smile on his face is limned with humor.
“So she hasn’t said it back? And you’re okay with that? Did she freak?” So many questions. Just swirling around in my head. He seems absolutely unbothered. That’s one of his best traits, though. He goes through life with a very devil-may-care attitude. Always sees the best in every situation. A lot like Mason in that regard. Brooklyn and I are the cynics of the pack. Summer seems like a nice balance between the two.
“Nah. She was definitely freaking out a little in her head. But I know she loves me. She loves all of us.” My heart warms at his suggestion that she might love me. “But she just needs to realize that it’s okay to admit it. To herself. To us. So I’m helping her out a little.” The man lifts a shoulder like he didn’t just blow my mind.
“Jesus, man. When did you become so fucking wise?” First, his advice about Mason, now his view on Summer. I don’t give him enough credit.
“Shut up, let’s just get started.” He huffs and gets out of the Jeep. No part of me was being sarcastic. But maybe I don’t compliment him enough because he thinks I was.
I follow him up the sidewalk and unlock the door. “I wasn’t kidding, you know. It’s freaking genius, and I think it’s going to work. That old pack of hers fucked up her confidence.” The word pack feels dirty coming out of my mouth. I refuse to acknowledge them as anything to her. “So saying it first is probably really smart. I think it’ll help.” I shrug. What do I know, though? I can’t even keep my beta happy.
Something soft hits me in the back of the head, and I look down to see a wadded-up rag on the floor. Hudson is beaming at me. “Thanks, man.”
“Yeah, yeah. Let’s throw up the drywall in the front room first.” A nod, and then we get to work.
It’s been five hours of manual labor already, and we’ve barely made a dent. Well, we’re moving at a decent rate, I suppose; we’ve gotten all the drywall put up in the downstairs rooms. But Hudson and I usually work a lot faster than this. But he got me started with the horseplay, and it’s become a fun distraction. Each of us has been sending Summer flirty texts all day. Hudson, of course, has continued his “I love you” crusade, and I jumped in to get her even more worked up. Several shirtless pictures and provocative poses later, and she has stopped responding altogether. I think we broke her.
“Do you want to get started on the floor in the front room?” Hudson swipes some forehead sweat with the back of his arm. All the windows are open, and there is a decent breeze coming through, but with Spring coming in with full force, it’s heating up. And this old house doesn’t have the best insulation. We’re fixing that as we go, too, and the new windows being installed next week will help.
“Yeah, but I’m starving. Let’s order some lunch first.” That’s how we find ourselves sitting on the dusty floors in the front room of the house forty minutes later, eating wings and fries and talking about what we’ll finish today before calling it quits.
Three raps on the front door filter in before the sound of high heels is heard. My first thought is Brooklyn came by. But then I remember she’s got a ton of meetings today with her current clients and prospective ones. A feminine voice calls out. “Hello. Anyone home?” The woman doesn’t wait for an answer but walks through the entryway until she sees us sitting on the floor. “Hi! I’m so sorry to interrupt, but I saw all the trash in the front yard and wanted to check the house out.” I exchange a look with Hudson, and then we both set our food down and stand up.
“Okay, that sounds strange. Let me start over. I’ve been house hunting for quite some time. My omega wants more space, and I was hoping this house might be up for sale soon. Maybe I can look around? The outside is beautiful, and the location is perfect for us.”
What the fuck? Who just randomly walks into someone else’s house because it’s being renovated? This could be our personal home. This woman has no idea. But from the looks of her, it doesn’t seem like she gets told ‘no’ very often. Everything about her screams old money. From her expensive clothes, the way she holds herself, and that look in her eye. All confidence and surety, and not just the kind that comes from being an alpha. Like any problem she’s ever had has been solved by throwing money at it. I want to tell her to fuck all the way off, but Hudson is much more polite than I am. And besides, we do plan on selling. If we could tack on twenty thousand or so more than we would have initially asked because, let’s face it, Miss Moneybags could probably pay it, then that would be ideal.
“Hi. Sure, we can walk you around the place and tell you our plans. We’re flipping and putting it on the market within the next six months if all goes well,” Hudson tells her amicably and walks forward to shake her hand. “I’m Hudson, and this is Maverick.”
She smiles, all teeth, and says, “Great to meet you both. I’d love a tour. Thank you.” Hudson smiles and starts leading her from room to room. He tells her about our plans to keep as much of the integrity as we can. I tune him out, focusing on her. Something is weird about this lady. I can’t put my finger on it.
“Oh, that’s a great idea,” she says, and I tune back in.
“Thanks, that was our omega’s idea.” Hudson beams proudly at the mention of Summer. I didn’t hear what they were talking about. But when I glance at our newcomer, her eyes are flashing, and she’s got a tight-knuckled grip on the cell phone in her hand.
What the…
She sees me looking, relaxes her grip, and pastes on a friendly smile. Yeah, time to wrap this up. “Well, we should probably get back to work if we want to finish before it gets dark,” I say to Hudson, raise a brow at him, and hope he gets the message. My attitude seems to confuse him because he drawls a response that definitely sounds like he has no idea what I’m talking about.
“Right. Yeah, sorry. So much to do today…” He rocks back and forth on his heels and claps his hands together. “Oh! But here, take my business card and give us a call if you’re interested in buying in a few months still.” He rifles around in his pocket and pulls out a very bent, used-looking card. Despite my thoughts on this woman, I roll my eyes.
Professional, Hud. Very professional.
“Great! Well, thank you for the tour. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you very soon.” He shakes her hand one last time, and she strides out the door. When she’s out of range and the front door is shut behind her, he turns to me.
“What was that about? You didn’t have to be so rude.” Hudson crosses his arms over his chest, waiting for an answer.
I throw my arms out. “Are you serious? You didn’t think that was fucking weird as hell? What woman just randomly walks into a house that isn’t hers? Because why? It looked like it was being renovated. And what was with that parting line? She’ll be seeing us soon? The fuck?” Not right. My instincts are screaming at me that there was something not right about her.
“You are being too paranoid. She’s looking for a house for her omega. It’s sweet. And it’s just an expression, Mav. Relax. Untwist your panties, and let’s get back to work. The sooner we’re done, the sooner I get home to Summer. Chop, chop.”
He’s being naive. But no matter what I say, he’s just going to brush me off. I’ll tell Brooklyn about it later.
“Fine, let’s start on the floors.”
Nine
Summer
A door slamming jolts me out of my dream.
Crap.
Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap.
I look around, heart beating out of my chest, scared to ask my mom to take me to school because I just missed the bus. Again. Then a very dirty Maverick walks in, followed by Hudson, who is equally covered in dust and grime. Brooklyn trails behind them, talking on the phone and looking perfectly put together. Then I remember I’m twenty-six, and I don’t go to school anymore. Much less take the bus.
The relief I feel is instant, and I flop back on the couch, feeling my heartbeat settle by the second.
“What’s got you smiling?” Maverick asks me. He bends down, careful not to touch the white couch with his dirty hands, and gives me a quick kiss.
When he pulls away, my lips chase his, and he smirks at me as I pout. Laughing at me. It’s infuriatingly sexy the way his lip tilts up a little. “Oh, just a dream,” I say distractedly. I lick my lips, tasting bourbon and citrus lingering there. He tastes so good, and all of a sudden, I remember that other parts of him taste just as good. Flashes of my heat come back to me, and warmth travels through my body.
Great, now I’m horny.
My scent must spike in the open space because all three heads turn my way and flare their nostrils, varying degrees of alpha growls rumbling through their chests.
“I like where your head is at. But hold that thought until I’ve had a shower, sweets,” Mav growls, and I decide to tease him a little.
I look between him and Hudson, glance very obviously at their dirty clothes, and wrinkle my nose. “Yeah, probably should shower first…” A long-suffering sigh. “I just hope I haven’t taken care of the problem myself before you get back. Better hurry…” Before I’ve even finished talking, he and Hudson are both sprinting away, ripping off clothes as they go. Hudson grabs Mav by the arm and pulls him back when he gets a little lead. When they turn the corner, I relax back onto the couch with my arms behind my head and a smile on my face.
Too easy.
“That was evil,” Brooklyn sniggers and plops down beside me on the couch. Then she wiggles until her head is in my lap, and she’s lying longways along the couch. Her eyes close immediately, but I can still tell how exhausted she is. With a few kicks, she chucks off her heels, turns her head into my stomach, and sniffs.
My heart aches a little, so I do the only thing I can think of. I comb a hand through her hair in light strokes and let out a soft purr. One meant to soothe, to relax. Tension drains from her, starting with her shoulders, and I watch it like a wave through her body. Shoulders, then arms, and legs all going limp. Even the tension around her eyes relaxes, making her look years younger.
“Pretty sure this is supposed to be the other way around,” she mumbles quietly, seemingly on the edge of sleep.
I frown. “What is?”
“The comfort thing. Alphas comfort their omegas.” Her words are matter-of-fact. Like she hasn’t known anything else. It is amazing how different everyone’s views are. How the way we’re raised warps our way of thinking. My mom always told me it was an omega’s job to ensure her alphas were taken care of. They take care of your needs, give you a home, and stability. You have to return the favor. Alphas never look after their own emotional needs. Their omega has to do that, my mom used to tell me.
After I hit puberty and presented as an omega, that is. I think part of her hoped I was a beta. Maybe the world looked down on them, but they also weren’t bound by the same rules and societal standards as alphas or omegas. She wanted a simple life for me. Easy. I wonder how she’d react if she were alive today.
“I don’t think it’s a mutually exclusive thing. We’re supposed to take care of each other. I want to take care of you.” I murmur, still stroking her hair.
“Mmmmmm. Perfect mate.” Her words are little more than a mumble. Barely audible. A few more brushes of her hair, and the quietest snore slips out. A chuckle tries to work its way up and out of me, but I choke it down so my body doesn’t shake and wake her.
Wells walks in the front door a moment later, and I hold my free finger to my lips to make sure he stays quiet. In his hands are three large pizza boxes and two smaller ones. The smell of pepperoni and cheese wafts in with the breeze, and my stomach growls.
“Met the delivery guy at the gate when I was doing my rounds,” he whispers, tiptoes into the kitchen to set the boxes down, and points out that he’s going to be downstairs. I nod back and give him a thumbs up.
Every part of me wants to get up to eat. Since I smelled the food, my stomach has not stopped growling. It’s actually starting to make me worry it’ll wake Brooklyn up. Footsteps thud in the quiet house, sounding akin to a stampede. I flinch, watching every twitch and breath come from Brooklyn, hoping she stays asleep.
When they both slide around the corner, laughing, I glare at them and hold a finger to my lips like I did for Wells. This just makes them cackle even harder.
“Don’t worry, pretty girl. Once she’s out, nothing is waking her up for at least several hours. Trust me, we’ve tried. Drums, banging pots and pans, nada.” He flares his nostrils, clearly smelling the pizza, and continues, “Come on, let’s eat. Scoot out from under her. She won't wake up. Promise.” I glance at Maverick, but he doesn’t look like they’re trying to pull one over on me, so I do. Even still, I lift Brooklyn’s head from my lap gently and place it down on a throw pillow that I pull over with the same care.
I stand there for a few seconds, just making sure. But they were telling the truth. If anything, her snoring gets a little louder, her sleep deeper. I shake my head and laugh a little.
Hudson has pulled three plates out from the cabinet by the time I get to the kitchen, and Maverick has all the boxes open and laid out. The two small boxes are cheesy bread and garlic knots. Then the big boxes are one pepperoni, one meat lover’s, and one supreme pizza. Hudson hands me and Mav a plate and then starts to pile up his own. He takes four slices right off the bat of the meat lover’s and a few pieces of the bread sides.
“I’m a growing boy, babe. Gotta fuel up.” Hudson winks at me as I stare incredulously at the piled-high plate in his hands.
“Shut the fuck up and get out of the way,” Maverick growls, shoving his way in front of the boxes. He’s no better, taking two meat lover’s slices, two supreme, and bread, too. I opt for one slice of pepperoni, one supreme, and one each of the sides. Some of it still may go to waste. When you eat for your budget–and your budget accounts for ramen noodles and cereal–you tend to get used to small quantities.
“Where do you want to eat?” Mav asks me, taking my plate from me and looking around.
I shrug. “Where would you eat if I weren’t here?”
Without any hesitation, he says, “My room,” and at the same time, Hudson says, “Mav’s room.”
“You both would eat in his room?” I ask, frowning at them.
