Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Three

H arper

I mope around in my bed until late the next morning. I’m confused, perhaps a little heart broken.

Plus horny, very damn horny.

The memories of what Daxton and I did last night, the orgasm he blasted around my body, are fresh and raw. So are the words he’d said about meeting with that girl Cindy.

I don’t want to bump into him this morning. I don’t know if I’d burst into tears or jump his bones.

Bed is the safest place to be right now. Even if that means the temptation to scroll through Cindy’s social media accounts is all too real.

Goddamn it, why does she have to be so cute? And interesting. Jeez! How many hobbies does this girl have? I mean scuba diving, bouldering, knitting?

And she’s an actual angel. She shaved her head two years ago to raise funds for the local children’s home.

Couldn’t they have chosen someone a little plainer, or boring, or cruel to animals? Something to give me a reason to hate her – and not just because she’s going to make them fall in love with her and bond with her and have kids with her and live happily ever after with her. While I will slowly rot in my bed. Fuck, I’ll probably be one of those women who dies alone in her bed and nobody notices they’re gone until several weeks later.

I snap back the duvet.

Enough moping, Harper.

I am not going to die alone. If they can find little Miss Perfect-freckles, I can find Mr. Drop-dead-gorgeous, emotionally-available-and-very-good-in-bed.

And maybe I could start that search today.

I flick to my messages. At least twenty have come through this morning alone – all from my new omega ‘friends’. Buried among them, though, is a string of messages from Molly. She’s heard rumors. She wants facts.

Molly has a pack who must have friends or brothers or both. She also has brothers of her own who also have packmates who must have brothers and friends and … Among all those alphas must be someone I’d like – maybe even a whole pack of someones. Someones who’d make me feel things like Daxton, Owen and Wyatt do.

I message Molly and agree to meet her in the play park in an hour.

She’s already there when I arrive, pushing the baby in the swing, several security personnel trying their best to blend in among the play equipment and kids, but sticking out like sore thumbs.

“Did you really have to bring them?” I ask her as I kiss her cheek and take over the swing-pushing duty.

“Yep, and you should have someone with you too, Harper. It isn’t safe.”

“I’m not like you. I don’t come from some wealthy pack. I’m not about to be kidnapped.”

“I think not coming from a wealthy pack would make you more likely to be kidnapped by some weirdo-fuck. And anyway, your step-dad is Ethan Renolds. Your family has money.”

I pull a face. “I don’t like the idea of someone following me around the whole time.”

“You get used to it and besides they’re very discreet.”

I gaze across at the huge dude crouching down in the sandpit as little kids fling sand around him. “You’re sure about that?”

Molly looks the bodyguard’s way and laughs. “Most of the time. I can get Silver to find you someone. Maybe a woman would be better.”

“Fine,” I say, tickling the baby’s tummy as he comes swinging towards me. “Where’s little Harper?”

“One of her daddies took her to drama class.”

“She’s going to be an actress?”

“No, a vampire, but it keeps her busy.” I laugh this time and Molly winks at me. “Anyway … come on, spill the tea. I want to hear all about yesterday.”

“I bet you heard all about it already. It’s all over social media.” Including several photos of Daxton scooping Cindy out of the water and Owen and Wyatt reviving her.

“You mean the hot step-brother and his hot packmates doing hot things. Yeah, I heard about that, but we’re not interested in them, are we?” My cheeks glow like I just switched on a light bulb. “Or are we?”

I’ve never been fantastic at keeping secrets. That summer fling with Daxton, Owen and Wyatt all those years ago ate me up from the inside. I think I used all my secret-keeping abilities up never telling anyone about that. I have no such abilities left. And so it all comes spilling out.

“Daxton came round to the house last night,” I blurt out.

Molly’s eyebrows shoot up her forehead. “And …”

“We …” My eyes flick around the playground, determining if the bodyguards are listening in. The one in the sandpit is attempting to unbury his foot, the one on the bench with the paper has a small child attempting to make conversation, and the one under the slide is in the process of breaking up a fight between two toddlers. “We ended up messing around.”

“Messing around playing video games, messing around having a pillow fight, messing around playing pranks on your parents, messing–”

“Messing around, messing around,” I clarify, giving Molly a knowing look.

“I need you to be more specific.”

I swallow. “We ended up on the floor together–”

“On the floor? How?”

“Long story. Anyway, then he started saying deeply sexy things about wanting to know how to pleasure an omega, how he wanted me to tell him what to do to make me come.”

“He didn’t know already?” Molly asks, sounding disappointed.

“Hmmm,” I say, cocking my head, “well, yes he did but I guess–”

“He wanted an excuse to touch you.” Molly grins.

“He’s not interested in me.”

“He made you come?”

“Yes.”

“Then he’s interested in you.”

“He was practicing.”

“For what? The Olympics?”

“For other omegas. That freckly one probably,” I mumble.

“Cindy Carlisle?” Molly asks, sticking out her tongue. “She’s so dull.”

“She’s not. She has like a billion hobbies and raises money for good causes and–”

“Oh my gosh,” Molly frowns, folding her arms over her chest. “Did he tell you all this while he was making you come? That is such a jerky thing to do.”

“No,” I swallow again, “I was cyberstalking her.”

“Ahhh,” Molly says, knowingly.

I stop the swing, fish the baby out and spin to face Molly.

“What does that mean?” I ask as I tickle the baby and make him giggle.

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

The baby reaches for his mommy and I hand him over.

“So what next?” Molly asks. “More,” she smirks, “hands-on lessons?”

“No way,” I cringe, “we nearly got caught. Actually, I was wondering if you knew any alphas, any packs, you could set me up with?”

“I thought you were avoiding men.”

“I was. But now I think I’m ready to get back out there.”

Molly walks us towards the pushchair at the edge of the park, slipping the baby into the seat. “That’s what you want?”

“Yep.”

“Not the hot step-brother and his hot packmates?”

“Nope.”

“Okay,” Molly says, buckling the baby up. “I’ll see what I can do.”

She pushes the baby out of the park and the three bodyguards follow us several paces behind.

The park is situated just behind the boulevard that runs parallel to the beach. We take the path, the baby yawning and sticking his thumb in his mouth.

“Do you mind if we keep walking?” she asks, pulling the shade down over the baby’s seat. “He’ll fall asleep any minute now with any luck. But we have to keep moving. Once he’s asleep, we can stop and grab some lunch. There’s this really cute cafe further down the beach.”

“Sure,” I say, walking alongside her. It’s a Sunday lunchtime and the beach is packed with groups of friends, couples and families – each with their sun umbrella, blankets and picnics. I let my eyes scan over all the people as Molly tells me about all the difficulties she’s been having trying to get Mitchell to sleep through the night.

“He’ll only sleep if he’s lying on one of his daddies.”

“I don’t blame him. Alphas are very comfortable places to be.” I sigh, thinking of how comfortable it felt last night to be lying on top of Daxton.

“I know,” Molly says, “but I want to be lying on top of them. I love Mitchell with every cell of my body, but I wish he’d sleep in his cot.”

I’m about to offer her some words of condolence, when I freeze dead in my tracks. There on the path in front of us, heading directly our way, are Daxton, Owen, and Wyatt, a woman strolling along in their midst. A woman with freckles.

I swing my head around, looking desperately for a means of escape, or a tree to duck behind. Maybe I could hide behind one of the bodyguards and they wouldn’t notice me.

But I’m too late.

“Harper!” Cindy cries, waving frantically at me.

“Is that–” Molly says, squinting.

“Yep,” I say, bracing my shoulders. “Yep, that’s them.”

“Jeez,” Molly mutters, “those alphas are even hotter than I remember, Harper.”

I elbow her gently in the ribs and plaster a ‘how lovely to see you’ smile on my face.

Cindy rushes up to me, flinging her arms around my neck like we’re long-lost friends and haven’t actually ever spoken, while the three members of Pack Stanton stand by looking bemused.

Molly jiggles the pushchair, throwing anxious glances at the baby.

One of the bodyguards steps forward as Cindy releases me from her grip and Molly waves him away.

“It’s okay,” she whispers, “they’re friends.”

“How are you, Cindy?” I ask her, trying not to glance the pack’s way or take little gulps of their scent.

“Oh my gosh,” she says, pressing her palm against her chest, “it was awful. Really awful. I thought I was going to die – in fact,” she looks off into the distance, “I saw this bright light beckoning me towards it, whispering my name, telling me I could come join the angels.”

“Wow,” Molly says, frowning as the baby begins to cry.

“But you’re all right, now?” I ask. “Shouldn’t you be in the hospital still?”

“Oh, no, I’m perfectly fine. Thanks to these three amazing guys.” She turns and grips Wyatt’s arm, smiling up at him with a look of pure adoration. “They were amazing.” She turns to Molly with a serious look. “They saved my life.”

Molly unstraps the baby from the pushchair and bounces him on her hip. “Lucky you.”

“I am so, so, so, lucky. If it hadn’t been for them …” She trails off sniffing and then buries her face into Wyatt’s chest. He looks a little taken aback, as if he doesn’t know what to do. Molly coughs, patting the baby’s back in an exaggerated fashion. Wyatt gapes at her, confused, and she’s forced to mouth the words, ‘comfort her’.

Wyatt jerks, then rubs his palm over Cindy’s back.

“It’s okay,” he says in that voice that sends shivers through my body, “you’re just fine.”

Cindy sniffs a second time and peers up at him through wet eyelashes. “Thank you,” she murmurs.

I have to force myself not to roll my eyes. Is she for real? Or is this some kind of performative act?

“We …” Daxton scratches the back of his neck, “err, didn’t know you would be here, Harper.”

“I didn’t know you would be here either,” I mutter.

“We’re going to get some lunch,” Molly says, still attempting to console the tired baby, “if I can get Mitchell to stop crying.”

“Can I?” Cindy asks, holding her hands out. “I’m really good with babies, especially at getting them to sleep. My cousin calls me the baby-whisperer.”

“Really?” Molly says hopefully.

I attempt to give my friend a look that reads ‘don’t you dare hand over that baby’, but I think my friend is at the point where she’d try anything to get her baby to sleep – even Cindy Carlisle.

“Oh, aren’t you the sweetest?” Cindy coos, in a voice that probably was designed for baby whispering. “I could just eat you up.” To my annoyance, the baby stops crying and reaches out to grab a handful of her hair. “So sweet,” she says, pressing her freckled-cheek against the baby’s and glancing up at the alphas, “I want one.”

And is it bad that I want to scratch her eyes out?

“Well, we’d better be going,” I say, nudging Molly.

“He’s on the cusp of nodding off,” Molly whispers, nudging me back.

“You don’t want to have lunch all together?” Cindy asks. “I’d love to get to know Daxton’s little sister better.”

“Step-sister,” Daxton says.

“No,” I say, perhaps a little too abruptly because Cindy looks at me aghast. “We can’t, can we, Molly?” Molly stares at me blankly. “Can we?!”

Molly finally gets the hint.

“Oh, no, we can’t because …” She trails off, taking the baby from Cindy’s clutches. Then, before I know what’s happening, she passes the baby to me. “Here, he wants a cuddle with you, Harper.” I expect the baby to start crying again immediately. Instead, he snuggles into my arms and rests his cheek against my shoulder. “See, it’s because you smell so good. Doesn’t she?” she asks the pack.

I peek at the pack. They’re staring at me, open-mouthed.

“Doesn’t she?” Molly repeats.

“Yes.”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

“So do I?” Cindy squeaks.

“All omegas do,” Molly says with a smirk. “Anyway, we’d better leave you to your date. I’m sure you have lots to chat about.”

She motions with her head and I wave with my free hand and follow her along the path.

“That girl has no conversational skills. They’re going to be so bored,” Molly says, clearly pleased about the matter.

“Err, I don’t think dudes care about conversation, Molly. Especially alphas. It’s all about the,” I peer down at the baby, almost drifting off to sleep, and mouth the word, “fucking.”

“Not when they’re looking for their forever-omega, which they are, right?”

“I think the …” I pause, then mouth the word ‘fucking’ a second time, “matters even more in that case.”

“Well, yes, but conversation is important, too.”

“She did look really sweet with the baby,” I say.

“So did you,” Molly says, her self-satisfied smile growing wider.

“You’re meant to be helping me find a different pack, remember?”

“I am,” she says.

And I should be relieved about that. Not peering over my shoulder at the retreating backs of the Stanton Pack.