I push away my empty plate. My stomach groans from the weight of the food, but I have zero regrets. I’d probably demolish another plate.
“That was amazing, thank you. I don’t know what to say—”
“Nothing,” he says firmly. “I mean that. You never need to thank me for food, Gabrielle. It was a pleasure to watch you enjoy it.”
“It’s not for the food,” I whisper.
Hudson blushes. I watch in fascination as his olive-toned cheeks tinge pink. He looks even more delicious when he’s flustered. Biting my lip, I shake my head to rid myself of the errant thoughts.
Not your alpha, I remind myself.No. Alphas. Ever.
But the thought doesn’t seem as awful as it used to be. I’ve never met an alpha like Hudson before. Or Nate – I only met him for a second the other night, and it wasn’t great, but I’m feeling more and more like I might have jumped to conclusions. There’s no way Hudson can be this nice and the rest of his pack isn’t. Right?
Hudson sets me up in a corner with more coffee and flaky perfection in the form of tiny custard tarts as people start filtering back in for the lunchtime shift.
He introduces a few, and they all give me polite nods and smiles before bustling away to their own space. Hudson clearly runs a tight ship, everyone understanding exactly what they need to be doing.
A young beta pauses in front of me, her eyes downcast. “Are you feeling better?” she asks quietly. Hudson leans in, wrapping his arm around her, and I fight back a really fucking irrational burst of jealousy.
Jesus. He’s notmine.
I force myself to look away, at the beta’s face. “I am.” My cheeks pink. “Thank you. You found me?”
She nods. “It gave me a fright,” she admits, and Hudson squeezes her shoulder.
“Take it easy today,” he tells her, and she nods, giving me one last smile before dashing off.
Veronica reappears, and I turn to Hudson uncertainly. He gives me a reassuring look.
“Just watch for now,” he urges, his eyes moving to Veronica, who nods. “See how we work, take it all in and finish your coffee before you jump in. I’ll come and see you soon.”
The urge to follow after him is sudden and a bit unexpected, but I force my body to stay still until I’m completely absorbed in the comings and goings. As customers start to enter the front of the restaurant, waiting staff begin to dart in and out, shouting orders and pinning tiny pieces of paper to a magnetic board, where Veronica rips them off and calls orders to different chefs.
My feet start to itch, the urge to move, to help, starting to nudge me as the kitchen becomes a bustling hive of activity. When Veronica appears, I jump to my feet.
“What can I help with?” I ask her, and she grins, a faint sheen of sweat dotting her brow from the warmth of the heat lamps. “Dangerous questions.”
She leads me past a row of chefs working, heat blasting my cheeks from the flames of the cookers, before she shows me to a deep sink absolutely bursting with dishes. A number of steel and copper pots in various sizes are stacked up alongside, jamming the relatively small space.
She looks mildly embarrassed as she turns to me. “Sorry. Zoe quit unexpectedly, so we’ve been making do.”
I’m already rolling up my sleeves. “I’m on it. Where’s the washing liquid?”
ChapterSeventeen
Nate
“I’m calling it! That’s a wrap, people. Pack your shit up.”
A whistle sounds, and the set starts to disband, people running back and forth to pack it away for the next booking in the warehouse we’re working out of on the outskirts of the city. Max, my director, places his hands on his hips as he wiggles thin dark brows at me.
“Where’s your head at today, Nate Reyne?” he scolds.
I offer him an apologetic shrug as I wander over to my station, waving away the hair artist and shrugging on my jeans. The studio bustles with activity around us, photographers and artists dashing around.
“Sorry. Lots on my mind today. Everything okay with the photos?”
Max frowns. “We’ll find out in editing, but I think we scraped it. Wasn’t your best though.”
