“I’ll build you whatever nest you want,” he promises. “I would rather not come back here, unless it’s something you decide you need.”
“I think you and Nimbus did a pretty good job.”
“C’mere, you smart ass,” he says, smiling as he grabs my arm and places a hard kiss on my lips.
Smith exits the shower first, drying his hair and wrapping a towel around his waist. He holds out a towel for me when I’m done. Bundling me up in the warmth of his arms, he rubs the towel up and down my arms, drying me off.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” he says after we’re dried off and dressed. He carries most of the bags. I grab the wheeled suitcase so that we can hold hands.
He looks so ridiculously fucking hot right now, dark jeans, white t-shirt and his hair tucked behind his ears, no hat on. If he wasn’t near passing out I would probably climb on top of him again. I’m not sure why I’m not more exhausted. I have a feeling Smith had a hard time sleeping when I wasn’t in need of him. He’s such a worrier.
Tim isn’t working when we get to reception, collecting our phones and signing out. Hopefully I will be able to thank him at some point for all his help during my Heat. I also pay for Smith being part of my heat before we leave. The idea of having a nest at our own home gets more and more appealing every second. I’m shocked that they have the amount of Alpha clientele that they do with the fees they are charging.
Smith groans, and I look up at his face.
“Stay close to me,” he says, and I look through the glass doors. Paparazzi line the street, waiting for us to leave. We couldn’t have a day of just enjoying our post-heat bliss?
He grumbles, “Motherfuckers,” as he opens the door. His grip is firm on my hand. My hold on the suitcase is unyielding as the flashes of cameras nearly blind us. I look down as I let Smith guide us through the throngs of people.
“Deja Fox, are you fucking your bodyguard?”
“Deja Fox, have you seen the countdown?”
“Deja Fox, did you take pictures during your heat?”
“Deja Fox, is he your boyfriend?”
All the questions jumble together that I can’t keep track. They get closer and closer to Smith and me as he attempts to get us to Franklin’s car. I look over at Smith’s face, and he’s pissed. His cheeks are flushed and his brows furrowed.
“Back the fuck up,” he growls at one cameraman, which they do.
“Is he your Alpha, Deja Fox?”
I know how the press spins anything I say, so I decide to stay quiet. Smith and I will reveal our relationship in our own time. We haven’t even had a moment to breathe and let it really sink in that we are a bonded couple. Last thing I want is the press degrading what we have.
We finally get to Franklin’s car. Smith opens the door, directing me to get in first. He throws our shit in the backseat so he doesn’t have to mess with the trunk. There is one last reporter screaming at me.
“Are you going to pay the countdown?”
They get closer and closer to the vehicle, and Smith growls. “Back off!” I slide over so he can sit next to me. He slams the door. “Drive,” he tells Franklin, which he does immediately, swerving into traffic. A cacophony of horns show their distaste for his driving.
Smith tilts my chin with his thumb and places a light kiss on my lips. “You good?”
“I’m good.”
“How the fuck did they know we were at Heat Haven?” he asks. I have the same question.
“They must have been tipped off.”
“By who?”
I shrug my shoulders, but I have a sinking feeling I know who.
Smith holds my hand, interlacing our fingers. “Cami, I don’t want to be the type of Alpha that tells you what you can and can’t do. But first and foremost, I’m always going to take care of you and put your safety first. So I’m telling you this as someone who loves you and puts you above anyone else. I have a feeling that this was Garth, and if that’s the case, this needs to be handled.”
I sigh and nod my head. “I really hope it’s not, but if it is, I don’t even know what I’ll do. Should I fire him?”
“Whatever you need, little star. I’m here to support you. So whatever you think is best.”
