Gage
The shop where Rafe told us to meet him and Winnie is called Dandy Stuff. It’s what I’d call the embodiment of everything I’ve learned about the little omega so far. It’s objectively cute, with a black-and-white polka-dot sign contrasting a colorful window display featuring hummingbirds painted into the corners and flowers running along the top and bottom. We’re here to take her on a first courting date. Dinner at some local place Corbin picked out.
Zeke immediately takes off his helmet and gets off his bike, already desperate to be closer to his bonded. Even being as far from her as the hotel seems to bother him, and I don’t know if the distance is still hurting him, or if he’s just eager to be near her. Rafe hadn’t reported any discomfort on Winnie’s end, so I’m guessing it’s just Zeke being an overeager puppy as usual.
Speaking of puppies, the moment we walk into the store I’m practically assaulted by one… if it can be called a puppy. It’s about the size of a small Labrador, with wiry hair and a long snout. I can only tell it’s a puppy because, despite its size, it clearly hasn’t grown into its enormous paws. It’s awkward and gangly as it excitedly moves around. It doesn’t jump, but it does rub all over me, leaving light gray hair on my shoes and licking at them.
I can feel the scowl on my face, but I can’t help it. I’ve never been a dog person. When the dog sees Eli and his mask, it lets out a sharp little bark. Eli flinches at the high sound.
“Hey!” I bark at the dog.
“Deputy, no!” Winnie echoes at the same time.
But Eli, for his part, just crouches down. The dog sits, and Eli pets it behind its floppy ears.
“It’s okay,” I hear him mutter. I remember Eli once said he had a service dog when he was very young. But as dogs do, it got old and passed, and Eli never had the heart to get another one.
I glance at Winnie to find her expression melting under Eli’s treatment of her dog. I’d had major concerns before we got here about her reaction to Eli. Omegas have not been kind in the past, and I wasn’t about to allow that to happen, bond or no bond. But every interaction she has with him chips away at those fears.
There are plenty of other fears to replace them.
“You said you have a place to go for dinner?” I ask Corbin, whose eyes slide to Winnie.
“Yeah, you ready?” he asks her.
“I guess. As long as you don’t mind me all work-mussed,” she says, but the tone is flirty. She’s wearing a pink top with a sweetheart neckline. Jeans that hug her round ass perfectly. Nothing about her looks mussed. She looks regal really. Like a delicate tiara belongs in her tightly curled hair.
“You look beautiful,” Zeke says—what we were all probably thinking. But damn, that alpha could use some chill.
Corbin leads us back out onto the street, and Winnie locks the door behind us. She turns and stops, eyeing the line of bikes outside her store.
“Who’s it going to be, Princess?” I ask. I swear I’m not trying to goad her, but it’s rough keeping the tone out of my voice. I still have doubts that we can be right for this woman. Only time will tell.
Winnie
I see all the challenge in Gage's eyes. This is a test, and I absolutely intend to pass. The guys head to their bikes. Even Corbin, who swings his leg over a big machine I’ve never seen before. Something about him straddling something made of steel and grit has me struggling not to perfume.
“I don’t have a helmet,” I point out.
Eli pulls one off the back of his bike. It’s pink and sparkly and looks like it’ll fit me just right. I approach him cautiously. His own helmet is still on, the dark visor hiding his face. The same BP that's on the front of their helmet above the visor is on this one.
“Did you get this for me?” I ask.
One curt nod is all I get.
"What does the BP stand for?"
"Blackline Pack, Dulzura." Rafe replies swinging onto his own bike. Their pack name. It's a claim. Even so small it sends hummingbirds racing around my stomach.
I lift my hand to take the helmet, but he pulls it just out of reach.
I frown, confused, until he palms my waist and pulls me closer with careful, deliberate pressure. The heat of his body sinks into mine, and his scent has me fighting not to put my hands on him. I glance briefly at Zeke, whose eyes are trained on me, dark and hungry. Eli helps meput the helmet on, his fingers brushing my neck as he moves my loose curls out of the way.
I’m glad I wore my hair down today. My pom poms would never fit under this. I’m not looking forward to the helmet hair, though.
Once it’s on, he pulls back a little. “Okay?” he asks and I startle because the voice is coming from inside the helmet. Eli’s voice.
“Yeah. I’m okay,” I say.
