Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-Four

W yatt

“And the children’s home said they’d never had such a big amount of money raised for them. They named the garden outside after me,” Cindy says, beaming proudly.

“A garden,” Owen murmurs, smiling back.

I’ve known him most of my adult life and I know he’s not listening. Neither is Daxton. I can understand why. I glance at my watch. Cindy, the omega we saved yesterday from the lake, has now been talking, without a break, for 22 minutes. I think the original topic was about omega scents – which was vaguely interesting – but has reared to hair products, department stores, the best angles for selfies and now something to do with a children’s home. I don’t exactly know how we arrived here. Usually my powers of concentration are sufficient to follow a conversation. Today, I find my mind uncharacteristically wandering.

And it isn’t just the less-than-fascinating topic of conversation.

It’s wandering to the omega who isn’t walking beside us; it’s wandering to the omega who is walking in the opposite direction.

Harper.

I have seen my fair share of erotic photos, scenes and set-ups in my time. I’ve had quite a few sent to my phone after yesterday’s rescue.

None have involved a fully clothed omega and a baby.

But, for some unforeseen reason, the sight of Harper holding a baby like that has sent my body and my mind a little haywire.

Like every breathing, living alpha, I harbor the breeding fantasy. After all, alphas were designed to rut and impregnate an omega in heat. And we’re very good at it.

The sight of a woman with a baby has never had my pulse flickering like that, though. Is it because my deep-down desire, the one I’ve been carefully avoiding, the one I have not expressed to my packmates, is that I’d like to impregnate Harper?

This is not like me.

I am the logical one. The one able to compartmentalize my feelings.

I do not get giddy from the sight of an omega with a baby.

“My hair grew back incredibly quickly,” Cindy says beside me, Owen on her other side and Daxton trailing just behind. “It’s because I have good genes. I thank them for my clear skin too. You know, I’ve never had a pimple – not one – in my entire life. Of course, that’s also because I’m a really healthy eater. I stay away from chocolate and candy and all those naughty things. I eat a lot of fruit instead–”

I nod, my mind wandering to fruit now. Peaches in particular. Ripe, plump peaches.

On the other side of Cindy, Owen stifles a yawn and gives me a look over Cindy’s head which might be interpreted as ‘kill me now’.

I pick up the pace which, though it makes Cindy a little breathless, doesn’t stop her from talking. I wonder if anything ever does.

Finally, we reach the end of the beach where Cindy’s car is parked. She hooks her keys out of her purse and presses the fob, unlocking the vehicle doors.

“Well,” she says, leaning against her car, a seductive smile hovering on her lips, “this was lovely.”

We all nod. Owen even manages a half-smile in return.

“It was, Cindy,” I say, “thank you for coming out with us today.”

“You’ll call me?” She flutters her eyelashes.

I hesitate and Owen cuts in: “We will.” He leans around Cindy and opens the car door.

“Unless …” she says, stroking her hands down Owen’s arm, “you’d like to come back to my place now. Hang out for a bit longer.”

I take a micro-step away and Owen pries her hands from his arm.

“I think we should take it slow,” he says.

Cindy giggles. “That’s a little dull.”

“We’re gentlemen,” I confirm. Although the thoughts swirling around in my mind – ideas of how I would go about impregnating Harper – do not seem particularly gentleman-like.

“You are?” she says, disappointed.

“Yep,” Daxton nods his head. “We don’t even kiss on the first date.”

The corners of Cindy’s mouth sink down and she looks like she might cry.

“Safe journey home, Cindy,” Owen says, pressing her down into the car, “we’ll call you.”

He shuts the door and bangs the roof. She waves at us through the window and then pulls away.

When she’s gone, Owen groans.

“Are my ears bleeding? They feel like they’re actually bleeding.”

“Why?” I ask.

“Why? Does that girl ever stop talking?”

“Excessive talking cannot cause otorrhagia,” I remind him.

“Yes, Wyatt, I know. But in some cases, it can feel like it.”

I nod, conceding his point. “Maybe she was nervous. Perhaps she’ll improve on a second date.”

Daxton snorts. “We’re not going on a second date.”

“But Owen said–”

“I was letting her down gently,” he explains.

I peer up the road in the direction her car drove. “I think we should give her a second chance. People can improve on a second meeting. And we shouldn’t be dismissing our options out of hand.”

“Sometimes you know they’re not the one for you,” Owen says, plunging his hands into his pockets and kicking at the sand.

“Love at first sight has been proven to be a fallacy,” I say.

“By who?” Daxton asks.

“Scientists,” I tell him.

“Sometimes scientists get it wrong,” Daxton says. He’s quiet for a moment, then adds, “The first time I saw Harper–”

“Harper isn’t an option,” I remind him, Owen and myself.

“Yeah,” they both say.

“We’ll consider our other options,” I say. Although I don’t feel enthusiastic about it.

Cindy wasn’t Harper. I’m not sure any other omega ever will be.

We stand around, all lost in our thoughts. Owen kicking more sand, Daxton scrubbing his hands through his hair, me inspecting an ant as it crawls across the sidewalk.

“We could go see if Harper needs a lift home?” Owen suggests. My gaze, Daxton’s too, flicks up to Owen’s face.

“An omega shouldn’t be driving around by herself,” Daxton says.

“We just let Cindy drive home by herself,” I point out.

“Harper is family,” Owen says, “and I didn’t like the way that bodyguard was staring at her.”

“I think that’s his job.”

“Still didn’t like it.”

“Let’s go check she’s okay,” Daxton says, already walking back the way we came. “She’s already been sleazed on by one slimeball this weekend.”

“Are you talking about yourself?” Owen asks him.

“What?” I say, eyeing Daxton. Daxton doesn’t reply. I address Owen: “What did that mean?”

Owen leans in and whispers down my earhole, telling me what Daxton and Harper were engaged in last night.

I can’t help but groan. Then I snap around to Daxton.

“You said–”

“I know what I said,” he says, picking up his pace. I throw Owen a bewildered look, then follow after him, slamming my palm down on his shoulder.

“Wait,” I bark and he halts and scowls up at me. “We need to think about this rationally.”

“No, we don’t,” Owen says. “Let’s go find Harper and–”

“We’re letting our emotions get the better of us. We’re letting our hormones and instincts get the better of us.” I swallow. They certainly are getting the better of me. “We’re a pack now. We have good careers and established names in our fields. We are in a perfect position to find a pack omega.” Owen starts to talk and I lift my hand. “However, I doubt many omegas would be interested in a pack who had messed around with their sister.”

“Step-sister,” Daxton corrects.

“Too late for that,” Owen mumbles.

I place my hands on my hips and give them both a hard stare, the one I reserve for misbehaving medical students.

“I am confused here. Harper is out of bounds. We’ve agreed to focus on finding an omega. Or am I incorrect?”

My two packmates look at me, chastised.

Daxton takes a deep inhale, then exhales, and lifts his chin. “You’re right.”

I nod, a prickle of disappointment in my belly. Was I hoping he’d tell me I was wrong? That he’d changed his mind? That we were free to pursue Harper?

I shake the thoughts and the feeling away.

“Right. There are plenty more fish in the sea. And right now those fish are biting. This is our chance to reel one in.”

“And it’s what she wants,” Daxton says, rubbing at his jaw.

“Who?”

“Harper.”

“Then let’s get fishing,” I say.