Even Madeline gives her friend a slow blink for that doozie, but then she’s smiling up at Otley, her pink lips gleaming like the petals of an antique rose. “You probably think that’s the only kind of culture we have in Knotty Falls, but there’s actually quite a lot on offer since my father became mayor. Plus, if you’re interested in plants, the gardens at my father’s estate have been voted the best in the state.” She flips her hair back, her voice dropping to a husky octave. “I’d be happy to show you around them, when you’re free.”
I walk to my door, my pride too battered to watch him take her up on her offer.
“Dirty Percy.” Otley’s still leaning against the side of the truck, so I can’t see his face, but his voice is so cold I feel goosebumps break out on my skin. For a moment I think he’s adopted the taunt, but then he stands up slowly, his arms folded across his chest. I watch his back muscles flex and catch a glimpse of the white ridge of his jaw. “I’ve always thought shitty labels say more about the bully than their target.”
Madeline’s smile dissolves like tissue paper in a rainshower. “What? Oh, that’s just a bit of high school fun…”
“It’s fucking rude,” he cuts her off, “and I’d take offense, even if you weren’t insulting my scent match.”
“Scent match?” The horrified shock – gasped in triplicate – is enough to make me grin. But I keep my good humor under wraps as we climb into the truck, Otley refusing to give the girls a backwards glance as I pull away from the curb.
CHAPTER SIX – LILY
“You’re smiling,” Otley says as I reached the end of Main Street and pull into the parking lot of the Aster Lodge, the biggest hotel in town. “I thought you’d be mad I outed you as my scent match.”
Instead of responding, I grab my invoice sheet, staring blankly at the printout as I try to douse the sizzle in my belly. The last time I heard those words pass his lips, I was drunk on my haze, writhing on his knot and begging for his teeth in my scent gland. “Well, there’s no denying you just sent the Knotty Falls’ switchboard into meltdown.” I’m tempted to fan myself as I read the last delivery item for the third time. Yep.Two standard arrangements for the Astor Lodge lobby, as per every other week of the year.“But despite how I acted back there, I don’t really care what they think of me anymore.”
Otley grunts and drums his fingers on the knee of his designer jeans. “You had the misfortune of going to school with them, I take it?”
I pull a face. “They were your typical mean girls, terrorizinganyone who couldn’t spot a Fendi bag at a hundred paces. My friends and I called them The Terrible Trio behind their backs. Based on what you said about labels and bullies, I guess we were kind of mean, too.”
He studies me in silence, but when I reach to open the door, he grabs my hand, his thumb circling my palm. I know he can feel all the little ridges and bumps that persist, despite my heavy-duty moisturizing routine. “You shouldn’t,” I mutter, staring down at our joined hands.
A silky brow lifts, his thumb still circling. “No?”
“My hands are a mess. Gloves can only do so much when you spend all day wrangling chicken wire and pitching garden stakes.”
I don’t know why I’m apologizing for working hard, but he finally releases his hold, and I quickly pull my hand back to my side of the center console. I’m shoving the door open when he says in a low, serious voice, “You can tell from one glance that you nurture things, Lily. That’s a hell of a lot more attractive than a manicure and a silk dress.”
I’m surprised by the sentiment, since most alphas expect at least that much effort from their omegas. Not that I’mhis,but I get the feeling that Otley James holds people to high expectations. “Every omega likes pretty dresses,” I murmur and hop out of the truck. “This is the last delivery, then I need to swing past the hardware store.”
I’m conscious of his eyes on my back as I carry the arrangements inside and hand them to Bobby in reception. Usually, I’d hang around to chat, but I use his distraction with a guest to duck into a quiet alcove at the side of the lobby. The air conditioning is doing its best, but I feel almost dizzy as I lean against the wall and stare down at my hands. I can still feel Otley’s thumb on my palm, and it’s as if his gentle touch has drawn old memories to the surface of my skin. Like theway those possessive fingers painted his initials on my breast in chocolate frosting, his throaty growl declaring it was his most treasured possession…
I hiss at the jolt of arousal that hums through me and wipe my clammy palms on my thighs.Why the hell am I dredging up decade-old memories?Bringing Otley along was clearly a bad idea. It’s not just that his scent is so potent in the confined space of the truck, but his presence is stirring up things better left in the past. I need to remember that for every hot, tender moment that occurred in my first ever nest, there’s a bitter, hurtful one that I thought I’d scrubbed from my brain years ago.
Like the sight of Crest’s sneer as he accused me of being a gold-digging hick and first-class clinger.
It’s hard not to feel grimy as I remember how I fled the hotel in shame. In fact, I’m tempted to leave Otley where he is and walk to True Value, except that I need to load the supplies into my truck. Instead, I take a calming breath and march back outside. He’s still sitting in the cab, but the window is rolled down, his shades tucked in his shirt and his tanned forearm resting on the edge. I can feel his stare all the way to my door, but when I’m behind the wheel, I shake my head before he can speak. “One more errand and then we’re done.”
Maybe he can hear the resolve in my voice because he doesn’t break the silence as I circle the block to park at the hardware store. He follows me inside, and I don’t object when he grabs a cart and pushes it at my heels. I head over to the gardening section and make quick work of grabbing what I need until we stop in front of the shade sails. They’re wrapped in plastic, but they’re still big and unwieldy, and I wonder if I should wait until Logan is back to grab them. It’s not like I can install them on my own, given my aversion to ladders.
“Which ones do you want?” Otley asks after I’ve nearly burned a hole into the display with my frown. I hesitate, butwhen I point them out, he steps forward, casting a glance over his shoulder at me. “How many?”
I’d like six, but my budget extends to only half that. “Four,” I finally reply, and he nods, grabbing the top one with surprising ease. Not that I think he’s weak, or anything, but this is Otley James. I’m pretty sure he’s never lugged around anything heavier than a squash racket, or whatever it is fancy alphas play in their spare time. “Maybe I should wait until Logan is back…”
The look he sends me is a mixture of amusement and annoyance. “I think I can manage, Lily. Why don’t you grab anything else you need while I load these up?”
I fidget for a minute, but if I argue, I know I’ll just come off looking irrational. Giving myself a mental shake, I head to the pet aisle to grab a jumbo bag of Bloomer’s kibble and a couple of pet toys, since he’s been so mopey with Leo away. I’m studying the different dog collars when Otley appears at my back, standing close enough for me to feel his body heat.
“Someone in the doghouse?” he asked lightly.
I can’t resist a snort. “You haven’t had the pleasure of meeting Bloomer yet. He’s a Houdini when it comes to slipping out of his collar.”
“This one looks heavy-duty,” he murmurs, selecting a thick, sturdy collar from the display. He opens the buckle with a practiced flick of his thumb, and maybe it’s because I’ve just been in close proximity to those fingers, but I feel my breath catch. He flexes the leather like he’s testing its durability, but when he glances at me, his eyes look darker, like metal under moonlight.
“What?” I ask, barely recognizing my breathy voice.
“Maybe if I’d claimed you like you asked, it would’ve been harder for you to slip away from us.”
