Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

H arper

The jet lag is definitely improving but I’m still yawning my head off, eyes drifting closed as I wait for eight o’clock on Wednesday evening. In fact, when the doorbell rings on the hour I think I’m actually dozing. I wake with a start, finding drool on my cheek.

Real sophisticated, Harper.

Not that I want to be sophisticated. Or sexy. Or cute. Or anything other than Daxton’s sister. Step-sister. It’s why I’m dressed down in shorts and an old baggy t-shirt. Something that signals, we’re friends, I can bum around in front of you. And I did not spend most of my day choosing this outfit. Or the bra and panties I’m wearing under it.

Because Daxton and Owen and Wyatt will not be seeing my underwear. No chance at all.

I wipe away the drool on the back of my hand and go to answer the door, pausing by the mirror for one quick peek.

I take a steadying breath and open the door. The effect of this action nearly knocks me backwards off my feet. Because, gosh, these men are breathtaking. The kind of men who would knock a girl off her feet. Add their scents into the mix – a blend of pine, moss and vanilla someone really ought to bottle – and the doctor outfits they are all wearing tonight, I bet most women end up horizontal in their company.

“Not in bed then?” Owen asks.

“W-w-w-what?” I stutter.

“Still awake?”

“Ahhh,” I say, realization dawning over me, “only just awake. Do not expect my conversational skills to be sparkling this evening.”

I turn and they follow me into the house. “Have you eaten?”

“Nope, we came straight from the hospital,” Wyatt says, which would explain his scrubs and Daxton and Owen’s white coats.

“Mom thought as much. She saved you some leftovers in the kitchen.”

We walk through and I take a seat at the table as the three men pile their plates high. Honestly, I’d forgotten just how much alphas eat.

Once they’re tucking into their meatloaf, I say, “So what were you wanting to do tonight? A little role play?”

Owen’s eyes flick straight from the plate to my face.

“I’m always up for a little role play,” he says, grinning from ear to ear. “What did you have in mind?”

“The kind where I’m the teacher and you are my students.” I tut.

“Jesus, really?” he says, arching an eyebrow. “That’s always been a fantasy of mine.”

“Owen,” Daxton says, not looking up from his food, “behave.”

“She said–”

“You knew what she meant,” Wyatt says. He places his knife and fork on his now empty plate and slides his glasses up his nose. His hair is longer than it used to be and pretty ruffled. I’m guessing it was a hard shift. “Let’s practice our small talk.”

I nod, and gesture at him to go ahead.

He coughs.

“So … what brings you to Rockview?”

I cross my legs. “I live here.”

“Right …” Wyatt looks around desperately at his packmates but Owen just snorts.

“Are you stuck already?” he asks.

“No,” Wyatt says, frowning, clearly thinking some more. “And what keeps you busy here in Rockview?”

“I just moved back here from Paris so I guess I’m finding my feet here in the city again. And hopefully a job.”

“What do you do for work?”

“I am an art curator. I work for art galleries.”

Owen tosses his fork and knife down on his plate and slumps back in his chair. He shakes his head and smiles at me. “It’s such an awesome job, Harp. I remember you saying you wanted to work in art all those years ago and I thought ‘yeah, good luck with that’.”

“You didn’t think I could do it?” I say, feeling surprisingly hurt.

“If anyone could, it was you,” Daxton murmurs, still shuffling food around his plate.

“But, Owen–”

“You’re an omega. Not many make it to college,” Owen says. “Even fewer make it through college. And hardly any end up with an amazing career.”

I scoff. “That’s pretty presumptuous. If this is the way you’ve been charming, omega–”

“Harp,” Owen says with a laugh. “It’s a compliment. I’m really proud of you. I mean, working at the Louvre – it’s fucking impressive.”

“Yeah, but I’m currently unemployed. Not so impressive.”

“Someone will snap you up,” Wyatt says, causing Daxton to look up from his plate and glare at him. “For a job, I mean,” he clarifies.

“Yeah,” I say, probably sounding about as enthused about that idea as I feel.

“What?” Wyatt says. “You don’t want a job?”

“I do. But Rockview isn’t Paris. The art scene isn’t the same. It’ll be all the usual commercial stuff, the big names dominating the scene. It’s not what gets me excited.”

“What does get you excited?” Owen asks, drawing his chair closer. And maybe I underestimated these alphas because each one of them seems to be listening intently now.

“Finding new artists. Ones that have been undiscovered but have real talent. Helping them to nurture that talent and helping them to shine.”

Wyatt nods seriously, Owen rubs his fingers through his beard and Daxton – Daxton just stares at me with those intense eyes. It’s a little too much and I decide to change the subject.

“How about you three? Are you enjoying being doctors? I hear it’s stressful and the hours are long and–”

“I love it,” Owen says, grinning at me again, his eyes brightening. “You know they say, find a job you love and you’ll never work another day in your life. Well, I have. The kids are awesome. Truly amazing. Resilient and funny. Sure, it’s fucking heartbreaking at times but knowing I did my best for those kids is the most rewarding thing ever.”

I rest my elbow on the table, my chin in my hand and swoon at him. I can’t help it.

“Just talk like that to the omegas and you’ll be just fine,” I murmur.

He laughs. “It’s not some chat-up line. It’s true.”

“Well, I’m happy for you too. And proud of you,” I add, giving him a wink.

“Do I get a gold star?” he growls.

I turn my attention to the other two.

“How about you two? You can’t possibly love your jobs as much as Owen does.”

“I do,” Daxton says seriously. “Working in the ER isn’t the same as working in the pediatric department. It’s different. I like how fast-paced it is. How I have to think on my feet. How I’m making split-second decisions that will save people’s lives. It’s a pretty big adrenaline buzz. Better than any drug.”

“Although not better than sex,” Owen points out helpfully.

I’ve seen plenty of those TV shows with handsome doctors dashing from one emergency to another, saving dozens of lives as they do. I can certainly see Daxton in that role. Calm-headed, focused … authoritative.

I swallow and turn to Wyatt. “How about you then?”

“Surgery isn’t fast paced like emergency medicine – although I am doing life-saving surgery. Most of the time the procedures are long and complex. They require my concentration and problem-solving abilities.”

“Plus a steady hand?” I point out, remembering how steady Wyatt’s hands were.

“Yes, I love my job as much as Owen and Daxton love theirs. The hours can be long. The pressure, immense. But it is worth it. I wouldn’t want to do anything else.”

“Well, pupils,” I say adopting my best teacher voice, “I would conclude that while we may be sucking in the love-life department, we are acing the career part.”

“Sucking?” Owen says with another smirk.

Daxton punches him on the arm. “What are you? Twelve?”

“I’m embracing the roleplay,” he says, and I can’t help giggling.

I’d forgotten how much fun it could be hanging out with these guys. Laurent was interesting and serious, but I couldn’t exactly describe him as fun.

I realize that, not only are these men somehow hotter than they were ten years ago, they’re also somehow more charming too.

Yeah, and probably just as easy to fall in love with.

I need to watch myself.

I need to watch myself like a hawk.

We are not going there again, Harper Hall. No freaking way!