Someone clears their throat loudly, and we both freeze. Slowly, we turn toward the window where Mabel, Dot, and Pearl have pulled their chairs over for a better view. They’re watching us blatantly, three pairs of eyes twinkling with undisguised glee.
Mabel waves.
Pearl winks.
Dot raises her coffee cup in a salute. “Don’t worry about us, sweets. This is the best entertainment I’ve had all year.”
I shake my head and curse the sudden flush that I’m sure turns my face beet-red.
“That’s not—I wasn’t trying to—“ He jerks his hand back like I’ve burned him, his face going blank. “Jesus Christ, I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” I squeak, because apparently we’ve both lost the ability to form coherent sentences. “Accident. Total accident.”
“I was aiming for the coffee stain.”
“Right. The coffee stain. On my boob. I mean, my coat. The coffee stain on my coat.”
“I should go,” Beau says, taking a step back and nearly slipping in the puddle of spilled coffee, just as Hattie swoops in with a mop. “Before I cause any more damage.”
“Nonsense,” she says. “No harm done.”
“Probably a good idea,” I agree anyway, even though my Omega is screaming at me to grab him and never let go.
He heads for the door, then pauses and looks back. “See you around, Willa.”
And then he’s gone, leaving me standing in a puddle of coffee with three cackling old ladies and a rapidly forming bruise on my forehead.
I grab what’s left of my dignity and march toward the door.
“Willa, honey,” Pearl calls after me. “You should take that boy for a ride sometime. I think you’d enjoy it.”
Despite everything, I find myself smiling. “Taking him for a ride might break me.”
Their laughter follows me all the way to my car.
I sit in the driver’s seat for a long moment, my heart still racing, my face still hot, my breast still tingling from where his hand?—
Nope. Not thinking about that.
But as I start the engine, silently sending up a prayer that my car makes it, I can’t help glancing in the rearview mirror, looking for Beau.
A laugh bubbles out of me unbidden.
At least this time, I’m laughing.
Even if it’s slightly hysterical laughter, tinged with panic and confusion and the bone-deep certainty that I am so, so screwed.
“Get it together, James,” I mutter to myself again. “You’ve got a job to do. You’ve got a career to protect. You’ve got absolutely zero time for this kind of distraction.”
But my Omega isn’t listening. She’s too busy creating a scenario where Beau and I are wearing much less clothes.
EIGHT
beau
This fucking woman.
I watch as her car pulls away from the parking lot, making eye contact in her rearview mirror, and an uneasiness settles in my chest. I don’t like it. And I don’t like that I don’t like it.
