Riley stops walking, and Sage nearly doesn’t stop in time to avoid crashing into them. Maybe I should have pulled her to a stop, but I get the sense he’s harmless—mischievous at most—and would probably be good for her.
“Now,” they lower their voice as Sage gazes up into their eyes. “Now, I’d say I’m dying for a taste ofthislavender.”
He reaches up with a relaxed hand and brushes the backs of his knuckles softly against her cheekbone. When she doesn’t pull away, he smiles, then slowly leans forward. They’re comparable in height; Riley is perhaps an inch or two taller than Sage, so when they lean into her space, it places them on equal footing. I’m nervous for a second as I watch them, unsure what they’re planning, but willing to give them a chance so long as they respect Sage’s boundaries.
Sage doesn’t pull away as I half expect her too, though. Instead, she sucks in a surprised breath, then holds it. Riley inches forward, angling his head so their jaw and cheeks meet. Then he swipes his along hers, scent marking her and simultaneously pulling her scent onto him.
So I’m dealing with a sneaky, mischievous, andboldbeta. Understood.
Chapter Ten
Brooks
My insides pound with a confusing mix of jealousy and joy. I’m ecstatic at how easily Sage is accepting Riley, but then the quietest, tiniest whimper claws up her throat when Riley pulls away.
“Shhh,” he says. “Pretty omega. Sage.”
Then he opens his arms in offering, and to my utter shock, she wrenches her hand from mine and dives into their arms. Riley carefully curls around her, holding her close, but I notice his grip is loose, gentle. His eyes close as he buries his nose in her hair, then shifts slightly, opening his eyes to look up at me.
I offer a smile, although it feels both happy and sad. He returns it with one that looks how mine feels. Our girl is hurting, touch-starved. She needs us, but is afraid. I’m relieved Riley has already picked up on it.
He waits until she loosens her hold, then slowly pulls away, letting her lead. Logically, I understand I’ll have to move slower with Sage, given her history with alphas, but emotionally, I want to spend every second figuring out how to make her smile. I want to tug them both into my arms andnever let them go, but I’ll settle for a tour of the farm, for now.
Or so I think, until Riley turns to me with a new, shy expression on his face.
“Yes, Riley?”
They look down, flustered as they shift from foot to foot, then they glance at Sage as though for help. I pinch my lips to hold in a grin. These two are going to be a handful when they break out of their shells. My smile doesn’t stay hidden for long, though.
As soon as Riley looks to Sage, shegiggles.
My mouth falls open and I gape at the two of them, eyes pinging between them.
Sage leans forward to speak to Riley, although she’s not quiet enough if she doesn’t want me to hear. I suspect it’s intentional.
“Yeah, so. He’s into, like, making me say what I want all the time. That’s probably what he wants you to do, too.”
I snap my mouth shut. It’s either that or let out a loud guffaw at her sass. Who is this bold creature and what happened to the timid omega I first met?
Riley blinks at her, glances at me, then turns back to her.
“So like, he won’t just give me a hug?” he whispers back, but again, they aren’t being quiet.
“Probably not. I can’t even just nod when I want something. He makes me say yes. Out loud,” she says in a conspiratorial whisper. “So… you’ll probably have to ask. Or if he asks you, you have to say yes.”
“Ugh,” Riley groans. “That’s so annoying.”
Sage giggles again, and the tension drains from her body. She shocks me for a second time when she reaches for Riley, placing a hand on their back and giving them a little nudge toward me. It’s all I can do to keep a straight face and pretend like I don’t hear them talking about me from two feet away.
Riley clears their throat, then looks up at me. I raise an expectant eyebrow, happy to indulge in this game.
“Please, alpha?—”
“Oh, nono!” Sage interrupts with a stage whisper, and Riley leans his upper body back for her to whisper loudly in their ear. “He doesn’t like to be called that, you have to call him Brooks.”
“Ah, right. Okay, thanks for the tip!” they whisper back, then lean forward and turn their face to me again.
These two are downright brats, aren’t they? How did I end up scent-matched to not one, buttwobrats? I internally shake my head, but my alpha is proud of their spark.
