I wait one beat longer than necessary. “Yeah. Fine.”
That’s enough for Graham. He beams like a kid on Christmas morning. It’s annoyingly hard to stay unmoved by his enthusiasm.
Lark claps her hands once. “We need to celebrate! This is a big day!”
“Let’s go out,” I say before anyone can throw out another idea. “Pack dinner.”
Silas raises an eyebrow. “What about your date?” He knows. Of course, he knows. But he lets it go.
I glance at Lark. “You won’t mind, right?” I say. “I mean… it’s not every day Graham has a scientific breakthrough.”
Something like disappointment flickers across her face. It punches me in the ribs. Then it’s gone.
“Absolutely,” she says brightly. “My giant is one step closer to helping omegas and alphas all over the world.”
I watch her face. She means every word. That’s the thing I’ve figured out about her. She says what she means.
“Let’s celebrate,” I say.
Lark
Silas wrangles a reservation at Chef Pascal’s for the four of us. Turns out my plaid-wearing, quiet alpha is also a primary investor in the restaurant. Based on what little I know about the pack’s investments, the sheer size of this house, and the quantity and cost of cars in their garage. Even Saint’s Jeep is a tricked out newer model. I’m starting to wonder if Pack Caron is low-key mega-rich. They don’t act like it. That’s the interesting part.
I take my time getting ready. I have naturally great hair. It dries in soft waves and rarely needs more than a little hair oil to keep the frizz away. But tonight, I curl it properly then brush it until it falls in soft ringlets around my face and shoulders.
My daily dress code usually consists of jeans or a comfortable skirt, if I’m running errands, and leggings or loose sweatpants if I’m staying in. If I have online meetings, I’ll throw on a dressy blouse or blazer. Paired with my normal yoga pants, it’s a ridiculouscombination, but the folks on the other side of the screen can only see my top half, so I go with it.
Tonight, however, I need to look nicer. Alotnicer. I didn’t pack many fancy clothes when I moved in. Most are still hanging in my walk-in at the apartment. But I did think to include a vivid blue dress in my suitcase. It hugs my curves in all the right ways, and makes my chest look more impressive than it really is.
I turn once in the mirror, smoothing my hands down the ruching on the side.
Not bad, Lark. Not bad at all.
I choose delicate jewelry. A simple gold chain my father bought me when I left for college, a delicate tennis bracelet I bought myself when OmegaBox hit its one thousandth customer, and the small gold bird earrings Silas gave me. I haven’t taken them out since the night I put them in. I smear subtle pink lipstick across my lips, and head downstairs to meet my alphas in the living room.
The room goes very quiet when I step inside. Three alphas turn toward me. I take a moment. They are genuinely, almost offensively attractive. Saint is standing by the bar cart pouring a bourbon. Silas and Graham already have one in their hands.
“You look… stunning.” Silas’s voice is so reverent it stops me in my tracks.
“Spin for me,” he says. It’s not a command, but damned if I could resist.
I swallow. Hard. Then do as he asks, spinning once slowly so he can see me from every angle.
“Fuck, little bird. I may have to kill any alpha who looks at you tonight.”
“Me, too,” Graham adds. I have no doubt Silas could tear someone apart with his bare hands, but the idea of my gentle giant going all protectively alpha has me giggling.
“I could do it,” he straightens his tie.
“I wouldn’t want you to,” I say. “You’re my gentle giant. I like you best that way.”
Graham’s eyes crease into triangles of delight behind his glasses.
Saint watches me over the rim of his glass for a second before reaching for another. “Want one?”
His offer catches me completely off guard. He doesn’t normally speak to me of his own volition.
I find my tongue and stammer out, “That—that would be great. Thanks.”
