From somewhere deeper in the house, Ace’s voice carries out, “Luca.”
“I didn’t say anything.” He raises his voice without moving.
“You were about to.”
“That’s not a crime,” Luca shouts back.
I bite back a smile and keep digging through the box, and there it is again, that warm, dangerous little feeling that keeps catching me off guard in this house. The one that says these men have already made space for me without asking me to explain myself first.
Which is probably why it feels so risky.
North appears in the doorway from the deck a second later, and, absurdly, the room changes just because he’s in it. My lungs, traitors that they are, decide one deeper breath is necessary to try to reach his scent.
“Tires are taking longer,” he says, leaning against the frame, arms crossed. “Parts still need to come in from the mainland. Koa’s fixing a few other things while he waits.”
“He doesn’t have to do that.”
“He wants to.” North’s eyes stay on mine when he says it, as if this isn’t negotiable. “The sooner your van is done, the sooner you leave,” he says sarcastically.
I blink at him. “But he’ll get it done in this century, right?”
He chuckles as he crosses the room and stops beside me, close enough that the heat from his skin reaches mine. I’m still holding the box like a woman with complete control over herself, which is a fiction everyone here is politely allowing.
“How did you sleep?” he asks. Normal question.
“Fine,” I answer. “Actually… really well. The ocean helped.”
His hand comes to rest lightly on my arm. Just that, barely anything, yet a buzz rushes down my back and right to between my thighs as I remember how desperately I wanted to kiss him last night.
“You look better than yesterday,” he adds.
“Thanks.”
His thumb brushes once against my skin, and my whole body reacts. Heat rushes low and fast, sharp enough that I have to press my thighs together. One thumb. One slow stroke over my arm. That should not be enough to make my pulse kick and my skin feel too tight.
And yet…
North seems entirely aware of what he’s doing to me, which is probably why he waits a second before saying, “Luca’s taking you into town in a bit. You probably want to pick up some things for yourself.”
I clear my throat. “Right. Yes. That would be good.”
“You’ll be fine with him.”
“I know.”
His hand stays where it is for one second longer than it has to, teasing me, reminding me how little control I have around these Alphas.
“No one is going to hurt you around us,” he says calmly.
I nod. “Yeah, I’m getting that impression, so thank you.”
He lets go and steps back, and the loss of his touch is ridiculously missed. I nearly sway after him, catch myself, andturn it into a very fake, very deliberate pivot toward the box I’m next to.
Luca appears right then. “Right,” he says, far too cheerfully. “You, me, shopping. Try not to faint if I take my shorts off in a changing room.”
I’m laughing already. “You’re never allowed to say things like that before I’ve had coffee.”
He grins. “Noted. Still saying them.”
