Track 12 Force of Nature

We don't get funnel cake, much to Liam's disappointment. Instead, we decide to go to dinner.

Or, I should say, Gray decides we're going to dinner and the rest of us go along with it. I don't really want the day to end. It's been so long since I've had so much fun. Don't get me wrong, I love movie nights with the girls and the few times we've made the trek into the city to have a night on the town.

But this is a different type of fun.

I don't think I've ever met anyone I feel so comfortable with, so effortlessly, as I do with the Cordova pack. The only other person I can think that comes close is Gage. And having all of them together with me is… everything. It's everything.

It's thrilling and terrifying all at once.

I've heard it can be this way for omegas and alphas when they find their packs. They just fit together like puzzle pieces slotting into place. I've never heard of a beta who felt the same. Though I suppose Ethan Falcone and Topher Werth might tell me differently.

Regardless, I've never felt something like this. Half of me is so freaking grateful that I get to have this, and the other half of me is… frantic with worry that it's all temporary.

And it probably is, with the Cordova pack being who they are and me being who I am. It can't possibly last, right?

I push the thought aside as we pull up to the one ‘fancy' restaurant in Lake Kilrose, The Porch Swing, which doesn't sound fancy at all, because it's not. But they have the best dinner in town and everything comes from local farms, just like I hope to do with The Shack once I'm out from under the weight of debt to the Stillwell pack.

Much like with my restaurant, The Porch Swing is an old house converted into a restaurant. A wide wrap-around porch that extends all the way to the back of the building dominates the front of the house. On either side of the front door are two large porch swings, giving the restaurant its name. In the back of the restaurant, there are more porch swings with tables between them, where customers can eat. But the front ones are for customers that are still waiting for a table and those are packed with people.

I hum in disappointment. "Oh, no. I bet the wait is going to be so long." As if on cue my stomach grumbles, making me flush while the men around me chuckle.

"Really, biscuit?" Gage drapes an arm over my shoulder and tugs me into his side. "You ate so much at the fair."

The flush deepens as I fold my arms over my chest and tip my chin down. I know he doesn't mean anything by it. He's certainly not telling me I need to eat less, but I can't help but worry that maybe the Cordova pack will think I need to. After all, they spend their time with models and actors, people whose entire job it is to take care of their bodies. Nothing like me, whose only forms of exercise are sporadic lake swims, biking to work and the occasional hike on my one day off a week off.

I shouldn't be worried though, Liam just nuzzles into my other side. "But that was hours ago, growly. Our girl needs sustenance."

Gray hums his agreement and flicks his gray eyes at me. "Indeed. Let me see what I can do about the wait."

He leaves us at the base of the stairs to the front doors, striding in with all the confidence of a man who is used to getting what he wants. I can only hope that he'll be polite about it. They might be here for just a short amount of time, but I live here and the folks of Lake Kilrose remember.

If he goes in demanding a table, anyone who witnesses it will bring it up for the next three years if I get even a little demanding about… well, anything . Not that I do that often. I'm definitely more of the just smile to avoid confrontation type of girl.

I shift uncomfortably on my feet, unsure of the methods Gray will use to get us a table faster. Gage chuckles, correctly guessing at the source of my sudden disquietude. "Relax, biscuit. I'm sure the Cordova prime knows how to be polite enough for Gretchen."

I squint up at him with one eye, ignoring the way my heart lurches in my chest. It's been doing that for years every time I look at him. "She's so sensitive," I murmur. "Maybe one of us should go-"

I cut off as the door pushes open and Grayson pokes his head out, motioning us forward. The hostess, Gretchen Montrose, beams when she lays eyes on me and Gage… well, Gage more so than me. Her long lashes flutter, and she bites her lower lip. Not that I blame her. Gretchen and Gage went out briefly in high school. Very briefly, like all of his relationships back then. Still more than mine, though, which were all but nonexistent.

"Gage Wagner, as I live and breathe." She puts on a fake Southern Belle accent and presses the back of her hand to her forehead.

Liam arches a brow at me, and I roll my eyes and shake my head. I'm used to this reaction to Gage. For all his scowly, growly looks, he's still the golden boy of Lake Kilrose. Everybody loves him. He can literally do no wrong.

"Gretchen," Gage says somewhat stiffly.

"I can't believe you didn't let me know you were back in town." Gretchen flicks her green eyes at me, wrapped up in Liam's arms and apparently decides it's as good a sign as any that Gage is free to date her. "I get off in two hours. We should hang out. Go for a drink. Catch up."

Gage is already shaking his head. "Nah, thanks for the invite, Gretch. But I'm spending the evening with Sorrel." He reaches out, takes my hand and tugs me away from Liam, who lets me go willingly, even pushing against my lower back to urge me closer to the alpha. Her eyes narrow and her lips part, but he cuts her off. "In fact, I'll be spending every evening with her. I'm completely booked." His straight white teeth flash in a semblance of a smile. "Sorry." His tone makes it clear he's not.

Gretchen looks at me, then at the Cordova pack, and then back to Gage, her lips curling into a rueful smile. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised," she murmurs, picking up five menus from the stack on her stand. "You only ever talked about her while we were dating. Wreaked havoc on my ego, if I'm honest." She looks at me and all I see is jealousy in her eyes, though she's doing her best to hide it behind a polite smile. "Congratulations. You nabbed the golden boy of Lake Kilrose and the Cordova pack." She turns on her heel before I can respond and starts weaving her way through the tables, but I swear I hear her mutter something about me having a golden vagina.

I shrug it off. Gretchen and I never really hit it off. She resented my friendship with Gage, and when I tried to back off and give them space to be a couple, he put his foot down and all but forced us to hang out together, because he wanted his best friend and his girlfriend to get along. Nevermind that both Gretchen and I wanted nothing to do with the other. I hated seeing them together, being all cuddly and cute. It hurt. A lot.

Why was he dating Gretchen, who was also expected to be a beta, rather than me, his best friend?

Though I suppose that's answer enough, isn't it?

Best friend. The two words that have always defined who we are together. Always and forever, I will be Gage's best friend.

The table she leads us to is near the back, tucked away, and I wonder if Gray asked for a private table or if it was just the only one they had available. There's a small part of me that worries they don't want to be seen with me, but I smother that part under a pillow crafted by memories of the entire day we just spent together.

They were trying to remain incognito, but they weren't hiding me or Gage, weren't trying to keep their distance to make it look like we weren't together. I mean, Liam and I… we did things. In public!

In hindsight, that could have gone so terribly wrong. All it would take is one picture of Liam with his cock out and my mouth on him for a scandal to ensue. He wouldn't look so much like America's sweetheart omega if the world knew he participated in public sex acts. Around children, no less!

Though in that case, I'd likely be painted as the temptress who lured him to the dark side. Nevermind that it was one hundred percent the other way around, with his sneaky little hand running up my thigh and making me lose my mind.

" Conejita ?" I blink away from my thoughts to find Rafe standing behind a chair, obviously waiting for me to sit so he can push it in for me.

"Oh, sorry. I think I got too much sun today. It's making me loopy."

I move and drop into the chair as he pushes it in, bending over to brush a kiss against my shoulder as he murmurs, "Mmm, yes. It's definitely the sun and not the very public orgasm you had."

Asshole.

I twist to glare up at him, but he's already moving away, taking the seat between Gage and Liam, who are on my right. Gray is already sitting in the chair on my left, looking wonderfully flushed from the sun, his dark hair rumpled.

I wonder how often he gets to do this. Just relax. Every other time I've seen him, he's been in a suit or a stripped-down version of one, tie off, shirtsleeves rolled up. While that's sexy as hell, I think I like this version more.

He must sense my gaze because he looks over at me with a small smile on his lips.

"Can I get any drinks started for you?" Gretchen asks when we're all seated. "The house wine pairs wonderfully with tonight's special."

I normally love a red—any wine, really—but after a day spent in the sun, I'm looking for something a little lighter, and bubbly. And maybe with more alcohol. Tequila. "Can I get a paloma?"

Gretchen's eyes flick to me as Liam nudges me with his shoulder. "You can get whatever you want, lovely. We're paying."

I open my mouth to argue that I can pair for my dinner, but Gray's foot nudges the side of mine and I snap it closed. Amazing that he can get his way without even saying a word. I wonder what that would be like?

The rest of the table orders drinks and Gretchen leaves us to let the bartender know. In the lull that follows, Gray slips a folded stack of papers from somewhere and places it in front of me. My brow furrows as I unfold it and then scan the top page before dropping it like it's on fire, scalding my skin.

"What's this?" It's a rhetorical question because I can see what it is. I can. But it doesn't make any sense. Not one little bit.

"That is your new loan document," Grayson says, leaning back in his chair, looking for all the world like he does this sort of thing all the time. Like he saves girls from the noose around their necks and frees them.

I shake my head, feeling lightheaded. The noise of the restaurant is muffled, and there's a ringing in my ear. "I don't understand."

Gray leans into my side, plucking the document from in front of me and flipping through the pages, while Liam slides his hand onto my thigh. I think to ground me, but I can't be certain.

Gray points to a number on the page. "This is what you owed, Sorrel. The principle for both the loan from The Stillwell pack and the amount still owed to the bank."

I blink at the number because… well, it's a lot lower than I was led to believe. A lot fucking lower.

"As of yesterday, you no longer owe the Stillwell pack or the bank anything." He flips forward and points to a number. "These are the new terms here."

I blink at the interest rate listed. "What? No, that can't be. It's too low."

There's a pause in the conversation as our server, Owen, arrives with our drinks. He goes through the spiel of introducing himself and then asks if we're ready to order. I'm not. I haven't even glanced at the menu, but thankfully Gage has, and he orders for me. Like he knew this sudden turn of events would distract me and wouldn't be able to focus on something as mundane as food .

"It's too low," I repeat when we're alone again.

"It's in line with the market rate," Gray says carefully, like he's testing my naivete.

I roll my eyes. "It is not . The going interest rate for a personal loan is nine percent. I know. I used to rage look up interest rates every time I had to make a payment to them."

Liam laughs. "Of course you did."

Gray shrugs. "This is the rate you're getting from us. I suppose you'll just have to live with it."

I want to argue about the rate. I do. But there's a bigger issue at hand that I need to address. "I don't think it's a good idea for there to be a contract of this nature between us. And I told you not to do anything. I had it handled."

Gage lets out a harsh laugh and shakes his head. "You did not have it handled, biscuit. If you did, you wouldn't have been drowning in debt. This way, you can actually get out from under it."

I don't know why I have this stab of betrayal in my chest at his words. The only thing I can think is that it's because he clearly knew about this. Clearly was in on whatever plan Gray concocted to pull this off.

My eyes flicker across the table to all of their knuckles, bloody and split. I'm guessing the Stillwell pack didn't take the news well, and that's why they got the shit beat out of them. By all four of the men at this table with me, even Liam.

They all went and did this behind my back, when I specifically told them not to.

I meant it when I said I didn't think it was a good idea to have a contract like this between us. But then, I guess we won't have a real relationship. They just want to have a little fun with me, get me out of their system. And when they're done with that, with me, I'll keep making the payments, probably through an online portal, and they won't have to think of me ever again.

This is purely business.

"It's too much," I say, shaking my head.

Rafe takes a swig of his beer. "If we thought you'd go for it, we would have just paid it off in its entirety and let you off free and clear."

"But," Liam adds. "We knew you wouldn't go for it, so here we are, presenting you with a new loan document."

Gray takes the papers from me, folds them neatly and slides them into my purse. "Your payments are due on the fifth of each month. I'll send you the information on how to make them."

There's a weird tightness in my chest, like I'm on the verge of breaking out into tears, but I'm also in danger of floating away from sheer relief and happiness.

Yes, I still have a load of debt I need to pay off, but the Cordova pack is nothing like the Stillwell pack. I know they won't use this to manipulate me into anything. I'm sure as far as Grayson is concerned, this is, in fact, a business arrangement. Even if it's one that he won't see much benefit from.

I lick my lips and clear my throat, trying to get whatever's lodged there to shift. "Thank you," I say, quietly, but I know they can all hear. "Thank you so much. It means… so much to me. Really."

Liam leans over and presses a kiss to my temple, while Rafe tugs my hand toward him to kiss my knuckles and Gray squeezes my thigh. It's overwhelming. Really, really overwhelming.

I shake my head in disbelief, a smile pulling at my lips as tears of relief fill my eyes. " Oh, god ." I swipe at my cheeks and then beam up at them. "Thank you. I have-I'll find a way to repay you. Not just the money. I'll come up with something to show my gratitude. I swear."

Gray gives me a soft smile, smooths his thumb over my cheek to catch a lone tear. "You don't have to repay us, sweet thing. We're happy to help."

I press a kiss to his wrist before shaking my head. "I'll come up with something." What that might be, I have no idea. It's not like they need anything. They can buy whatever they want. They don't even need me to actually pay them back the money they've loaned me, but I'm determined.

"Free burgers for life," I mutter, even though it's still not enough to show my gratitude.

"Here's how you can repay us," Liam says, nuzzling my cheek again.

"Liam." Rafe's voice holds a warning that the omega is apparently happy to ignore.

"Hire more people so you can take some time off." My brows jump in surprise. That was not at all what I was expecting. "Then you can come into the city with us. We can take you out. Wine and dine you. Show you what it's like to live there."

My cheeks flush bright red at the reality of what he's saying. Liam Cordova wants to take me out in public in a city like Granton, where people will recognize him, where the paparazzi will lurk around every corner, eager to get a shot of him.

It won't be like here in Lake Kilrose, where no one really cares all that much.

Where we can go to dinner and be left alone to enjoy it.

It's not that people here don't recognize Liam for who he is, but it's more that they… respect the normal societal boundaries and don't overstep except for a few busybodies.

I turn toward the omega next to me. "You mean you want to take me out on a date?"

He glances around at the restaurant, at the food on the table and the other diners. "Isn't that what we did today? Did I read this all wrong?" He asks, sounding a little worried.

I reach out and lace my fingers with his, hurriedly. "No… I just… I guess I didn't realize this was a date. I thought it might be like friends hanging out, because…"

Liam slides his gaze to the side, right to Gage and murmurs, "Do you normally let your friends finger fuck you to orgasm in public?"

My face goes hot, hot, hot , and I look over at Gage. His hands fist on the table, knuckles white, jaw tense. He looks as pissed off and growly as ever, maybe even more so. It's clear what Liam is asking, but I can't exactly respond. What am I going to say? That Gage has never touched me remotely like he wants me, but I've dreamed about it myself?

I shake my head. "No, my friends don't do that."

"If you don't let friends do that to you, how can we be friends, Sorrel?"

I know he doesn't mean anything by it. I know he's making a point. But I can't help but feel like the point he's making is that they're not actually interested in me, just my body. A sex thing like he said days before.

They're ‘dating' me intending to fuck me, but they aren't actually interested in more than that.

If that's the case , a part of me questions, why would they go through the trouble of paying off the Stillwell pack, and apparently beating most of them so badly they had to be hospitalized?

I don't have an answer.

I lick my lips and shoot a glance at Liam before saying softly, "I guess we're not."

Gage's glower grows, but he doesn't say anything. "I-I'll have to think about it," I murmur, not looking at anyone. "About taking time off, I mean. It's just hard for me to get away."

Liam squeezes my thigh. "Maybe Gage can help," he says cheerfully. "You two are such good friends. I'm sure he's worked at the Shack before. Maybe he could run it for you while you come spend some time with us."

The fork in my best friend's hand bends under the strength of his grip. I cast him a worried look when his expression only grows stormier. "Gage has never actually worked with me. His parents didn't want him to."

Liam gives a lazy shrug. "It's just flipping burgers. How hard can it be?"

Gage sucks in a sharp breath, and the rage on his face is apoplectic. I know he's about to explode. He's hit his limit. I also know that Liam didn't register the insult he just lobbed my way.

The truth is, running what amounts to a fast-food joint isn't all that complicated. There's a reason flipping burgers at a fast-food restaurant is a first-time job for teenagers all over the world.

But it still stings.

Not enough to let Gage rip Liam's head from his body, though, literally or metaphorically.

My best friend's mouth opens, but no words come out and I cut him off swiftly. "Gage. No ." His dark blue eyes focus on me, jaw clenched, bent fork held in his hand like he's planning on stabbing someone with it. "It's fine. He didn't mean it like that," I say quieter, forcing a smile to my lips.

"Mean it like what?" The oblivious omega says, shifting uncomfortably.

"Like what Sorrel does for a living isn't actual work," Gage grits out. Rafe shifts, turning his body toward the alpha who is pumping out stress pheromones, like he's getting ready to intervene, to fight, if he needs to.

Next to me, Liam's eyes widen. "Oh, shit. No. I didn't mean it like that. Of course I didn't. I only… I really want you to come stay with us for a bit. I'm sorry if I belittled what you do, lovely. I didn't mean it."

I give him that forced smile and wave a hand in the air. "It's fine. I understand. I mean, it's not exactly rocket science, is it? It's just flipping burgers, like you said."

Liam scowls at me now, and a glance around the table shows all of them are looking at me with some kind of concerned or frustrated expression. It only makes me force that smile higher as I let out a laugh that even to my ears is fake as shit. "It's fine! I'm under no illusions that what I do for a living is all that important." I shrug and fiddle with my napkin. "But someone's gotta do it. People need to eat."

Gray catches my fidgeting fingers with his and brings them to his mouth, kissing the tips of them gently, before laying them back on the table, keeping hold of them. "I wish you wouldn't do that, sweet thing," he murmurs, thumb stroking over my hand while Liam is still looking at me with puppy dog eyes.

"What?" I question. "Tell the truth?"

"No, force a smile when you're upset. You don't need to do that with us."

I frown and cast a glance at Gage, who is still gripping his fork, but he seems less inclined to violence now. Instead, he's observing us, watching our interactions.

"I'm not," I lie. "I'm fine." Lie. What I really want to do is move on from this conversation. I want to go back to how it was before they invited me to the city. "But like I said, I'll have to think about your invitation. I might not owe the Stillwell's anymore, but I do still have bills that need to be paid, and I'm not sure that I can afford to hire more employees."

"I fucked it up, didn't I?" Liam mutters, slouching in his chair.

He looks so dejected that I can't stay quiet. Reaching over to squeeze his knee, I reassure him. "No, you're fine. You're perfect . We all say things without thinking them through. If we crucified everyone who did that, well… you get the idea."

"I'm not perfect," he pouts. "Obviously."

"No," I drawl. "But you're pretty close."

The pout fades from his mouth and his gaze turns serious. "I'm really not, lovely. Don't put me on a pedestal like that. I'm flawed."

I frown, not really believing him. All the men at this table seem pretty perfect to me. That's why I don't think an actual relationship would work between us. I'm not anything special and they are so freaking perfect. It's… well, painful.

Makes my heart ache.

They're all staring at me intently, and I open my mouth to say something. What, I don't know. But thankfully, I'm saved by Owen and our dinners. When we all tuck in, the conversation changes to other topics, likely they can all tell that I need a respite from the emotions of the last few minutes.

I relax into the conversation, into the group as the Cordova pack tells stories about their early years, hijinks on set, Liam's song writing habits. I laugh at the appropriate times and smile. If anyone notices how the tips of my fingers rest on the new loan document, how my eyes keep straying to it, because I can't quite believe that I'm free of the Stillwell pack, not one of them says anything.

Which I am so grateful for.

Even though they said they don't want me to repay them, I'm going to find a way. Not just the money that I owe them, but some way to show them what this really means to me.

I have no idea what that will be, but I'm determined to find it.