MARIE
Hours later, after the most restful nap ever, I’m downstairs eating breakfast with the guys while wearing one of their shirts.
“You look better,” Lore murmurs, his eyes on me as I chew the french toast that Wilder made. It’s fluffy and delicious.
“I feel it,” I say, my body relaxed and loose. I don’t know if it’s because of the really explosive sex or the nap, but I don’t feel on edge anymore.
“I think that’s a sign you should sleep with us more,” he says sagely, his eyes sparkling with confidence.
“I don’t think we’re there yet,” I say, drinking my coffee. Storm prepared it for me and it’s exactly the way I like it. I should be shocked that he got it right on the first try, but I’m not.
The alphas that fate decided are mine are very attentive, to the point of obsession.
“Keep lying to yourself, Princess. We’re not going anywhere,” he says. “Listen, I need to tell you something.”
“That’s not at all alarming,” I say, glancing between the three of them.
Storm looks sad while Wilder hides all emotions from me.
“I need to clear up a distribution problem a couple of hours from here. The motorcycle parts we delivered aren’t viable, and that’s really bad for business,” Lore explains. “The Knotted Anarchists have lots of different cash flow avenues from strip clubs to ah, other things. However, a big one is high end motorcycles that they build from scratch for people that like that sort of thing, and we supply the parts. We also have car mechanics as well.”
“Word of mouth and integrity mean a lot to the different chapters, and we need to make sure we continue to be in good standing with them,” Wilder continues. “Since Lore is the president, he needs to go.”
“No one lets me go anywhere by myself,” Lore grumbles goodnaturedly. “Therefore, I’m going with Wilder and meeting up with some of my men to take care of this.”
“Oh yeah?” Storm asks, his eyes shuttering.
“I want you to stay in Minneapolis with Marie,” Lore says.
They get locked in a staring contest for a full minute before Storm blows out a breath.
“Okay,” he grunts. “Make sure you come back in one piece.”
“Is it that dangerous?” I ask, my hunger drying up as I hold my coffee cup in my hands.
“I won’t know until I’m there,” Lore says.
I make a face at him that shows how unimpressed I am with that answer and Lore gives me one back.
“I don’t like your job,” I sigh, standing after draining the rest of my coffee. There’s no point in wasting caffeine.
“I know,” he says. “There’s toiletries and clothes in the second floor bathroom. It’s the third door on the left.”
“I got a brush and hair dryer, but I’m not sure if either are any good,” Storm winces.
“Why wouldn’t they be?” I ask, confused.
“When he was looking, there were so many different kinds, he kept over thinking his choices,” Wilder explains.
“I’m really not picky,” I shrug.
“You could be if you wanted to,” Lore says, standing. “You can have anything, all you have to do is say the word.”
“Is spoiling your omega a part of courting?” I ask, smiling. I’m still irritated at him, but I’m in too good a mood to allow it to ruin my afternoon.
It’s bad enough that my days and hours are all mixed up. My meals are all confused, and I’ve decided to just let it ride.
“Storm put it in writing that we’re courting you,” he says. “The pack name is one that can’t be connected to us to keep everyone safe, but we’re determined to be as normal as possible for you.
