Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

H arper

Ten years later and it seems I’m back to choosing swimwear – all my bikinis and swimsuits spread across my bed.

I haven’t had much cause to wear swimwear in Paris – a couple of trips to the French Riviera, one to Greece. Other than that it’s been chic Parisian suits and classically cut dresses. Most of this swimwear looks suspiciously on the small side.

I hold one up to my chest and cringe. I’ve definitely gone up a bra size since I left home.

I toss the thing back on the bed and groan. What do people even wear to a cook-out these days?

My mom raps lightly on the door and pushes it open.

“The boys are here, Snuffles. Are you ready to go?”

I look down at my body. I’m still dressed in my sleep shorts and tank top – although I have styled my hair and put on a little make-up. I’m not sure if people actually swim at these things and I don’t want mascara running down my face.

“Nope,” I tell my mom. “Not ready. I don’t have a clue what to wear. In fact, I think this is a bad idea. I clearly have no clue about these things. Daxton and the others would be better off finding someone more knowledgeable to help them.”

“Nonsense,” my mom says, picking up a stripy, high-cut swimsuit I bought in Paris. “You’re an omega and a woman. There’s no better person to help them out.” She holds up the swimsuit. “I think this one with those white shorts you were wearing yesterday.”

“I think the swimsuit may be a little tight,” I confess.

“Harper, you could wear one of those Edwardian swimsuits that reach down to your knees and you’d still look adorable.”

I doubt that very much, but as I have no better ideas, I go with my mom’s choice, grabbing a large straw sun hat and my oversized sunglasses on my way out of the bedroom.

As soon as I reach the hallway, I regret my choice. The cup on this swimsuit is so small, I’m at risk of exposing a nipple, possibly both, and all three alphas’ gazes swoop right that way as soon as they see me.

Well, maybe that isn’t a bad thing. Maybe if they like what they see, then maybe some other alpha at this event will too. And maybe finding an alpha to take my mind off Daxton, I mean Laurent, would be a very good thing.

“Are we ready to go?”

They’re all dressed in shorts. Wyatt in his usual white t-shirt, Daxton in a linen shirt and Owen in a cotton button-down. They all look freshly showered and the combination of their scents is like a buffet of yumminess.

Daxton jerks and pulls his eyes away from my cleavage. He coughs.

“Erm … yes … sure … ready to go.” He coughs again.

“Have fun,” my mom calls after us. “And good luck! Call it Mommy intuition, but I just have a feeling something’s going to happen for you today.”

I climb into the front passenger seat beside Owen, the other two climbing into the back of the truck, and all three winding down their windows.

“Doesn’t the A/C work?” I ask, as Owen pulls out. The truck is pretty old and battered and I’m surprised he hasn’t gone for something more stylish. Doctor’s salaries may not be as good as a millionaire’s, but surely he can afford a saloon or something.

“You don’t like A/C,” Owen says, jerking at the gear shift. “It stings your nose and gives you a headache.”

“You remember that, huh?” I smile.

“You’re pretty hard to forget, Harper Hall,” he mumbles, making my cheeks sizzle and Daxton cough again from the back.

Wyatt shuffles on his seat, leaning forward with the notes he made the other day in his hand.

“Do you think you’ll know any of the omegas at this event, Harp?” he asks.

I can’t help but pull a face. “Oh, gosh, I have no idea. I assume all the omegas my age are already packed-up.”

That answer is met with a stony silence and I twist my head to watch the passing scenery as we leave the city and head inland.

“You ever been to this lake house?” Owen asks after a long, long pause.

“No, I don’t think there’s ever been an event here before. But Pack Roller’s eldest daughter just turned twenty and I think the youngest is eighteen. They probably want them to find a pack.”

There’s another pause.

“Why haven’t you found a pack, Harp?” Wyatt asks.

“You mean because I’m so old,” I blurt out, realizing mini-Harper’s remark the other day cut deeper than I thought. I flick my eyes to the wing-mirror and stare at my reflection. I definitely have the start of crow’s feet and that patch of gray hair. Despite the boobs on display, I’m not going to be able to compete with all those twenty-year-olds – especially when their boobs will be a hell of a lot perkier.

“Harp?” Owen says, reaching over to place his hand on my arm, his touch making me tingle. I’d forgotten a touch could do that to you. Totally forgotten.

“Huh?”

“You’re not old. You’re like twenty-eight.”

“Just turned twenty-nine. Thirty next year.”

“Thirty’s not so bad,” Daxton says.

“Yeah, if you’re an alpha! A twenty-nine-year-old omega is practically a spinster.”

“Garbage!” Owen snorts.

“You always said you wanted to focus on your studies and your career before settling down,” Wyatt says. And I guess they remembered that too.

“Yes, and then I wasted too many years on dick-face.”

“The ex?” Owen asks.

“Uh huh.”

“The one with sex appeal?” Daxton snaps.

“The one I left behind in Paris,” I say, and Owen curls his hand around mine.

“You’re gorgeous, Harper – despite being an old granny. And lots of men like older women these days. You’d make a great cougar.”

“Jerk,” I say, laughing and snatching my hand from his. “You better be careful,” I warn. “Or I will be tempted to spread vicious rumors about you among the omegas, instead of singing your praises.”

“What are you going to tell them?” Wyatt asks.

“The omegas?” I ask. “Erm …” I feel all the blood rush to my cheeks again. What exactly am I going to tell them? That these dudes made me come so hard I’m pretty certain I passed out? That their scents are so electrifying it’s hard to think straight in their presence? And their cocks are so–

“Jeez,” Daxton mutters, “is it really hard to think of something positive?”

“Of course not,” I say, spinning in my seat to meet Wyatt’s eyes. “I just think I’ll probably tailor it depending on the omega I’m talking to.”

Wyatt nods, seriously. “Good idea.”

Owen takes a left turn and we follow a neatly manicured track, trimmed trees and blossoming rose bushes lining the route, until a house made entirely of wood and glass and perched on stilts comes into view and behind it a shimmering blue lake.

Owen whistles. “I’m guessing this is it.”

Daxton curses. “We don’t stand a fucking chance.”

“Not every girl is impressed by a big house,” I point out.

But all three are still muttering to themselves as we climb out of the truck and a valet takes Owen’s keys from his hand. Another man dressed in a white waistcoat leads us around the house and out to the beach that lines the nearest shore of the lake. Decking runs from the house to the sand and is covered with wide parasols and several round tables and chairs. There are four men in chef’s hats flipping burgers behind giant barbecues and a game of volleyball is taking place between three omegas in skimpy bikinis and three alphas in speedos that leave nothing to the imagination.

And I thought Paris was glamorous. I’d forgotten about this side of Rockview – I feel like I’m about to walk right into one of those lifestyle magazines.

An older omega woman, dressed in a casual sundress, a bandana wrapped around her head, greets us. She’s flanked by two of her alpha packmates – both wearing surfboard shorts.

“Harper Hall,” the woman says. “It’s been such a long time since we saw you at one of these events. Home from Paris at last?” She gives me a sympathetic look. “But still pack-less. Well, I did tell your mother that college was a mistake.”

“I worked at the Louvre in Paris,” I blurt out.

“Oh, how wonderful,” the woman says, clearly done talking with me already as she turns her attention to Daxton and the others. “Pack Stanton,” she smiles, seeming genuinely pleased to see them, “I’m so glad you could make it.” She threads her arm through Daxton’s. “You must meet my daughter, Angel.”

Before he has time to react, she’s leading him away across the sand.

“Help yourselves to food and beer,” one of the alphas says to us and Owen offers me his arm as Wyatt goes to find me a coke.

“I think you’ve brought me here under false pretenses,” I whisper to Owen.

“What?” he says, looking suspiciously like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar.

“She’s taking Daxton to meet her daughter. You do not need my help.”

Owen shrugs. “She’s probably taking every alpha to meet her daughter. Besides, what a mom wants and what a daughter wants can be entirely different.”

“I don’t know. I think my mom made a really good choice with Ethan – he’s lovely.”

Owen stops still and plasters a fake look of outrage onto his face.

“Harper Hall, do you have a crush on your step-dad?”

“No!” I cry. “Oh god, no. Gross!” I stick out my tongue.

“Just the step-brother then.” He winks.

“That … that was a long time ago.”

Owen’s eyes flicker over my face. “It was. But I was thinking …” my heart starts pounding in my chest, “you remember that thing I can do with my tongue, the thing that had you squirting into my mouth?”

I swing my gaze around, hoping no one else is listening to this conversation.

“Well, I …”

He gives me one of his mischievous smirks and I swear my heart skips several beats. “I think you remember.”

“I … I …” Of course I remember. It’s not something a woman would easily forget. I still dream – the very naughty variety of dreams – about Owen and his multi-talented tongue.

“So, maybe that’s the thing you could tell the other omegas about.”

My racing heart comes to an abrupt halt. “You want me to tell other omegas that you have a skilled tongue?”

He nods and I can’t tell if he’s teasing me or deadly serious.

“That isn’t something you casually drop into a conversation, Owen.”

“You girls – you omegas – talk sex stuff all the time.”

“Not at a barbecue,” I yelp, “and besides they’d want to know how the hell I knew.”

“Tell them it’s a rumor you heard, or one of my ex-girlfriends told you. Please, Harp,” he says, giving me the puppy dog eyes, “you see what we’re up against,” he sweeps his arm around in the direction of the beautiful lake house, “I need a way to compete.”

I stare right back at him, that look he’s giving me making my stomach flutter, and wonder how the hell I got myself into another of these situations.

“Fine,” I say, really not sure how I’m going to keep this promise, “I’ll do it.”

“Thanks, Harp.” He pulls me in for a hug, right against his muscular chest, my nose pressed right into his solid pecs, my sinuses swamped by his delicious scent. It makes my own tongue want to do things of its own – like lick him. Lick him everywhere.

“One coke,” Wyatt says from behind me and I disentangle myself from Owen and take it from him. “I’ve just been talking to a sweet omega,” he says to Owen, “come on, I’ll introduce you.”

Owen grips my elbow. “Will you be okay, Harp?”

“Sure,” I say, raising my can of coke. “Go practice your listening skills, I’d better get to spreading those rumors.”

“Rumors?” Wyatt asks as they stroll away, leaving me alone with my coke.

I sigh, and spin around, gazing over at the lake. There are a couple of people splashing around in the shallows, another two skidding around on jet skis and the dazzling Rockview sunlight rippling across the azure water. The air is fresh in my lungs and the sun warm on my skin. It feels invigorating.

I’ve missed this. More than I’d care to admit.

It’s good to be home – even if I’m back in the midst of alphas and omegas and all the crap that comes with that. Like being considered competition. Like being eyed as prey. Like being judged.

For example, I’ve chosen completely the wrong outfit. All the other omegas have dressed down in cute ripped-off denim shorts, flip-flops on their manicured feet. Owen may be right – I might look a little too much like a cougar.

I drag my gaze away from the lake and scan it over all the other people here today. I’m supposed to be putting in that good word for Daxton, Owen and Wyatt. Like a good sister would. I’m supposed to be getting back out there and meeting new people.

But instead my eyes stray right to where Pack Stanton are now gathered together, gathered around some cute little omega with impossibly big eyes, pouty lips and – fuck me – actual freckles. She is possibly the cutest thing I have ever seen and a strange sensation churns around in my stomach.

Is that … jealousy?

After all, she’s captured their attention completely, all three listening to her intently, giving her their full and undivided attention.

Shit, I remember exactly what it’s like to be the focus of their attention.

No, that can’t be jealousy. I’m over them. And even if, say, I wasn’t. Like, if I were to consider that I’m not over them at all, so what? That fling was a one-time thing. It isn’t going to be repeated.

Nope, I’m sure that churning in my stomach is excitement for them, happiness. Yes, I’m really darn happy for them.

I down the rest of my coke and crush the can in my hand a little too aggressively. Then force my eyes back to the water.

The sun isn’t feeling so pleasant on my skin anymore. In fact, it’s hot – hot, hot, hot. I squint up towards the scorching ball of fire and flinch. I’m probably going to burn to a crisp.

I head towards the nearest empty sun lounger, drop my bag on the cushion and root around for sun tan lotion. I dab some on my face, then smother some on my arms, my legs, my shoulders and finally my chest. However, when it comes to my back I just … can’t … reach.

“Need a hand with that?”

I peer up to find an alpha lurking above me, a lopsided grin on his face, hands on his hips. His jet hair is slicked back from the water, his teeth are whiter than snow and he’s also wearing a pair of those neon speedos – his very obvious package hovering mighty close to my face.

“Huh?” I say, distracted by the thing in his shorts. Has he smuggled a snake down there – all coiled up into a very confusing shape. His scent is also distracting – like diesel. It makes my nose itch.

“With the lotion? Want me to,” he flexes his pecs, “rub it in for you?”

I’m about to tell him where he can shove the lotion, but then I hear across the distance the omega with freckles giggle – her laugh like the chiming of tiny bells. Cute. Really cute.

“Sure,” I say, handing him the lotion and shuffling around on the cushion so my back is facing him.

He drops down on his knees behind me and I hear the lotion squelch as he squeezes it into his hand.

“May be a little cold,” he whispers, leaning right into me and I’m forced to wrinkle up my nose so I don’t sneeze. Then his hands land on both my shoulders. “Hmmm. Your skin is very soft. Do you exfoliate?”

“Erm,” I say, then squeak as he massages my shoulders a little too vigorously.

“Does that feel good?” he purrs.

“Very nice,” I say, my voice sounding unnaturally high. “But if you could just–”

“You have a very beautiful body. Your breasts are like a pair of melons waiting to be plucked.”

“Excuse me,” I say, wondering if the heat has warped my brain and I’m hearing correctly.

“I love the feel of omega skin on my hands.”

“Could you just–” I start, attempting to lean away from him and finding myself caught in his grip.

“I love the way you omegas can’t get enough of alpha hands on your skin.”

“I think you’re done,” I say, trying to duck away. He’s making me uncomfortable. His scent is making me sick. His hands seem to be everywhere.

“You’re all so needy and dependent,” he growls right by my ear, making me jump when he nips at my earlobe.

I try and squirm away, but he has me pinned in place.

“Bet you’re dying for an alpha to take care of you. How about I take you inside and take care of you right here and now?”

Before I have a chance to tell him no thank you, he runs his hands lower down my back, sliding under my swimsuit and gliding them towards the sides of my–

“Ooof!” the man cries out, both his hands snapping out of my swimsuit.

I turn around to find him on the ground, Daxton towering above him, a fistful of the dude’s hair in his hand.

“Get your slimy hands off my step-sister,” he growls.

“Hey man,” the alpha says, sending a cloud of sand my way as he kicks at the ground, attempting to gain his footing. “I was just helping her with her suntan lotion. She asked me to.”

Not strictly true. I glare at him.

“You had your filthy hands all over her,” Daxton growls, shaking the dude for good measure.

I switch my glare to Daxton.

“Let him go,” I hiss.

“I should beat you fucking senseless, you creep,” Daxton snarls down at the man.

“Daxton,” I repeat, “let him go.”

He glances up at me, the anger on his face melting away when he meets my displeased expression.

“But he was–”

“Helping me with my suntan lotion,” I say, unsure why I’m defending the slimeball. I don’t exactly have any desire to keep talking with him, but I also don’t want Daxton to bulldoze every interaction I have with an alpha. Not when he’s having such a nice time with the little omega.

Scowling at me, Daxton releases the slimeball who scrabbles to his feet. For a moment they stand off against each other, but, computing Daxton has several inches on him and biceps the size of bowling balls, the slimeball backs down.

“What is your fucking problem, man,” he mutters and stalks off.

“You’re welcome,” he says to me, folding his arms across his chest.

“What?” I say. “I’m helping you find an omega. You could at least attempt to return the favor by not scaring off any alphas that seem interested in me.”

“So you like being groped by total strangers, do you?”

I fold my own arms over my chest. “Maybe I do. Maybe I really enjoy one-night stands and liaisons with strangers and–”

“I know you, Harper Hall, and you don’t.” His nostrils flare.

“Maybe I’ve changed.”

His gaze sweeps down my form. He goes to say something more, something I’m sure will make my blood boil, when there’s a scream from the water. A scream that sounds like little bells ringing.

We both snap our eyes to the lake. The omega with freckles is flapping around in the water.

I roll my eyes. Very damn cute.

However, Daxton’s spine stiffens and he takes an urgent step forward.

“She’s in trouble,” he mutters.

“I don’t think–”

But he’s already sprinting towards the water and I see he’s right.

The omega with freckles is drowning.