His heartbeat is steady against my cheek. Slow and strong. Annoyingly comforting.
“Switch.”
Ben’s voice cuts through the howl of the wind. I feel Elijah slow, then stop.
“I’ve got her.” Ben’s arms are reaching for me, and then I’m being transferred from one alpha to another.
The shift makes my head spin. New scent, new warmth, new heartbeat under my cheek. Leather and musk and something woodsy.
“Hey, trouble.” His voice is lighter than Elijah’s, but I can feel the tension in his arms. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“I was in the neighborhood.”
He laughs, short and sharp. “Yeah, you picked a great night for a drive.”
“The meeting ran late.”
“Course it did. Because Tessa Lang doesn’t leave until every i is dotted and every t is crossed.”
“That’s called being professional.”
“That’s called being a workaholic.”
I should be offended. But he’s not wrong.
“You came,” I say instead. “All three of you. You walked through a blizzard.”
“You called.” He says it like it’s simple. Like there was never any question.
Something cracks open in my chest. Something I’ve been keeping locked up tight for a very long time.
“Ben.”
“Yeah?”
“About the auction?—”
He groans, loud and dramatic. “Are you serious right now?”
“You’re a captive audience. You literally cannot run away.”
“I could drop you in a snowdrift.”
“You won’t.”
“I might. Try me.”
“You won’t,” I repeat. “Because despite all your jokes and your avoidance tactics, you’re actually a good person who cares about people. Even annoying event planners who won’t stop asking you to do things.”
He’s quiet for a second. When he speaks again, his voice is rougher.
“You’re not annoying.”
“I’m extremely annoying. I’ve been told.”
“By who?”
“Pretty much everyone I’ve ever met.”
