Chapter 43
Merrick
When Preston said he was going to be there for Hailey, he wasn’t kidding. I don't know what I expected of the guy. I assumed he would be somewhat exhausted after everything he had been through, and I supposed he was.
But that didn’t slow him downat all.
I doubted that man got more than a few hours of sleep at a time. He was constantly doing anything he could for Hailey. Late-night snack runs had become the norm.
He’d also decided he was Hailey's personal helper monkey and was living up to the title with enthusiasm. Somehow, he’d managed to scope out all of the best fast food places in a matter of days, so he could procure any cravings she had.
“She’s out for the count,” Preston said as he walked into the living room, where I was scrolling mindlessly through my phone.
I glanced away from the screen. “I'm surprised you're not still in there, getting snuggles.”
“She's currently wrapped around the giant bunny that Wilder got her.”
“She loves that thing.” I hauled myself off the couch and toward the kitchen. “Beer?”
Preston nodded, “Sure, thanks. Also, I think we need to agree as a pack to never let Wilder know just how much she loves that stuffed bunny, because he will buy her twenty more, and this house will be overrun by bunnies.”
“He's already tried.” I smirked as I grabbed two beers, returning to the couch where Preston sank down.
“Dare I ask?”
“My bed currently has a giant stuffed bunny in it.”
Preston tried to bite back a smile, failing miserably. “The things we do for our omega.” He chuckled, taking the beer off me with a thankful nod and taking a deep swig.
It didn't feel awkward to be sitting with him. In fact, it felt easy in a way I hadn't expected.
While I was still irritated at Preston for a few of the decisions he’d made, I understood why he’d made them, and I was getting to understand the alpha better with each day.
“So, how did you get into firefighting? You were military, right?” I asked.
“Yeah, I worked mainly on bases, to be honest. Then I got into a few more covert things, which I enjoyed. A few years in, I got the opportunity to train as a smoke jumper.”
I raised a brow, taking a sip of my beer.
Smoke jumpers were serious pros. They parachuted into the worst of the worst when it came to fires. Usually deployed as a wildfire starts, they carried equipment that made my firefighting gear look light as a feather.
“That’s some pretty hardcore stuff,” I said, tilting my beer bottle in his direction.
“It was. The training just about killed me. I wanted to push myself, though, which is why I took the opportunity, but the diet and physical training…” He trailed off with a whistle.
“But you did it.”
“I did…but I like candywaytoo much. At least when training with the Marines, I occasionally got candy.”
I tilted my head, acting confused. “I thought Marines just ate crayons.”
Preston shot me a withering look that was somewhat dampened by the smile on his face. “I’ll have you know, they only eat crayons on our days off. Too many artificial colors,” he said in a deadpan voice.
“Ah, that explains it.” I smiled, tilting my beer bottle and clinking it with his before taking a large gulp.
Preston did the same, and for a moment, we just sat on the porch, watching the night sky.
“We really need to figure out our housing situation,” Preston finally said after a moment.
