Damn it, I’m going to hurt her. She’s going to end up devastated and crying and I won’t know how to fix it. My scent surges again, embittered now with my rising worry.
Ashton seems to shake himself out of a thought and crosses his arms. My scent only intensifies as more awful scenarios fill my mind. He blows out a breath, then glances around the room. No one’s anywhere near us, but a few of them will be benching soon. He pushes off the weight rack and closes the distance between us, casually holding his hand out like he’s spotting my bicep curls. We both know it’s just an excuse so he doesn’t have to do more than whisper. I’m nowhere near my maximum weight for these.
“If she’s old enough to drink and hasn’t been with anyone, I’d guess she’s the type of person who wants it to be a big thing?”
I nod. That feels right. “She said she isn’t built for casual flings.”
Ashton purses his lips. “All right. So it could be that. Or… she had a bad experience that’s making her hesitate to try again. I’d try to feel out which one it is tonight and then wait until your next date to do anything.”
Fuck, it hadn’t occurred to me she might have had a shitty experience before. Was that why she was so certain she’s not built for flings? Had some jackass tried to get in her pants and hurt her?
The growl rips up my throat before I can hold it back.
Ashton nods, not surprised by the reaction.
“Right,” he says, totally calm. “If she’s just always wanted it to be with someone special—right time, right guy and all that—then plan a day when we’re home for a decent stretch and won’t have morning skate. Not right before we leave for two road games.”
His gaze turns sharp.
Yeah, that’s fair. There’s a six game stretch that’s all at home over Thanksgiving. Maybe that’ll work? Shit, that’s only in another week. I offer a nod to get him to continue.
“If she’s had an asshole mess up her first time, then you need to tread real careful, Rhett. Real damn careful. Every move is going to have to be thought out. No way you’ll be able to just see what happens one night.”
I force a swallow, trying to alleviate all those worries rising again. Ashton might hate Omegas now, but there was a time when he’d been serious with one. I can’t even remember the last time I was with one. It’s not like they’re overly common or anything. It’s so much easier to fuck an interested Beta than hunt for an Omega. Maybe it was last season? Vancouver, I think. I’d been out partying with Kane, and they all flock to him like a moth to a flame.
“Yeah, all right,” I choke out. “Thanks man.”
He grimaces then pulls a kettlebell from the rack. “Don’t thank me, man. Omegas are a fucking mess waiting to happen. Better you than me.”
Chapter Eleven
RHETT
The sky is clear and turning a deep orange with the setting sun when I pull into the vineyard’s employee parking lot and turn off my Supra’s engine. Carys sits in the passenger seat, her gaze out the side window. The bit of color that was in her cheeks when I picked her up from her floral shop has disappeared, a sick cast to her face now. Nerves tighten like a band around my chest, but I try and breathe through them.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
She jumps at the question, her eyes flashing to me. Her cheeks redden, the color returning in a matter of heartbeats. She tucks a loose wave behind her ear even as she nods.
“I’m fine. Or will be, at least.” Her blush deepens. “I have pretty bad motion sickness problems.”
“Oh, shit, I’m so sorry,” I apologize immediately. “You should have said something. I would have picked somewhere closer.”
She shakes her head. “It’s fine. It happens no matter how short of a drive.” She glances out the heavily-tinted window again. “Why are we parked in the employee access part, though?”
I ease out of the car and quickly round the front, getting hers open before she can do it herself. I offer my hand as she gathers the small purse she’d tucked at her feet. Her hand is so much smaller than mine as I lace our fingers together.
“For secrecy,” I say.
An employee crosses from the large, sprawling house-turned-restaurant, a smile fixed on their lips. Carys walks beside me, soaking in the area, a smile curving her lips. It’s an effortless smile, the kind you don’t even realize you’re making. The fading sunlight catches on the natural highlights in her blonde hair she’s left to cascade down her back and the bit of makeup that dusts her eyes and cheeks. Between them and the bright red lipstick, the entire look only emphasizes how gorgeous she is.
Her dress is equally beautiful. It’s a dark green with ivory embroidered flowers along the hem and small puff sleeves. The bodice forms to her breasts and waist, the neckline a deep v and the skirt falling around her hips like the fabric is actually liquid, landing just above her knees. Her small bag is a pretty soft brown, matching her mid-height stilettos with bows on the heels. Even as we head toward the employee, I ease my phone from my pocket and take a few photos. Then I quickly set the one of our hands as my wallpaper. Enough to settle my desire to claim her without giving away her identity.
“I’ve never heard of this place,” she says just as we make it to the walkway. I squeeze her hand and tuck my phone away. “It’s really pretty.”
“Rhett?” the employee asks. “I’m Jonah. I’ll be your server tonight. Are you ready for the meal, or were you hoping to walk a few of the vines first?”
“Dinner,” I answer. Then fucking panic. What if she doesn’t want to eat after being so sick in the car? I clear my throat. “If that’s all right with you, Carys.”
