I take his hand and let him help me stand. Water streams down my body. Bubbles slide off my skin. I'm completely naked in front of him and I should probably be embarrassed, but the way he's looking at me makes me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.
He wraps a towel around me. Tucks it in at my chest with careful fingers. Brushes a wet strand of hair behind my ear.
"Get dressed," he says quietly. "Come downstairs. Eat dinner with us."
"And then what?"
His smile is slow. Dangerous. Full of promise. “Then we'll see what happens."
He leaves, closing the door behind him.
I stand there dripping on the bath mat, heart still racing, body still humming, wondering when exactly I lost control of this situation.
Probably the moment I climbed out that window.
Definitely the moment I walked through their door.
I could get used to this.
The thought hits me as I'm drying off, and it terrifies me more than anything else that's happened in the past week. Because getting used to this means wanting to stay. And wanting to stay means risking everything I've spent the last six years running from.
I drain the tub and wrap myself in the towel more securely. The mirror is fogged with steam. I wipe a clear spot and stare at my reflection.
Everything about me feels different right now. I'm not the hollow shell of a runaway bride anymore. I feel alive. More alive than I have in years.
I think about four alphas downstairs, making dinner, waiting for me. I think about Callum arriving Friday, expecting me to be "ready" for him as if I'm a package to be collected. I thinkabout my heat, building slowly in my blood, changing everything I thought I knew about myself.
I think about the way Carlos said "good girl" and how it made me feel things I'm not ready to examine.
I retreat to my room to get dressed. Pull on jeans and a soft sweater that's technically mine but smells like cedar and smoke because Sergio did laundry yesterday and everything got mixed together.
Four alphas. One omega. A heat that's coming whether I'm ready or not.
This is either going to be a disaster or the best decision of my life.
I'm starting to think I want it to be both.
19
NACHO
Iknow bringing Jessica into the station is a risk, because I'm not sure if I'll be able to keep my lips, hands or anything else to myself. Usually, I never mix work with pleasure, but she's too irresistible. Her scent is everywhere. At home and now at the dispatch.
Carlos gave her a bath massage last night that ended with her screaming loud enough that Sergio and I exchanged looks across the kitchen table. Pedro's been taking "extended lunch breaks" at the clinic that have nothing to do with eating and everything to do with Jessica's thighs clamped around his head in the supply closet.
My brothers aren’t subtle. And Jessica isn’t quiet.
I'm trying very hard not to laugh about the whole situation because it's been years since I've seen my pack this happy. Carlos has been whistling while he works. Pedro smiled at a patient yesterday. Actually smiled. Mrs. Kowalski nearly had a heart attack.
And Jessica? She's walking around with this glow that has nothing to do with her upcoming heat and everything to do with two of my pack mates worshipping her the way she deserves.
Which brings me to now.
The Largo Waters Sheriff's Department runs on procedures and protocols. Everything operates according to established guidelines, and I've spent years making sure those guidelines are followed.
Jessica Delacroix is the human equivalent of chaos in curvy, gorgeous form.
But she's happy. And that matters more than my carefully organized filing system.
