Page 129 of Beasts of Mine

“Turn around,” I told Malek, already fighting the urge to breathe the cedar clinging to the shirt far more deeply than necessary.

“You’ve kissed me.” Malek reminded me as one eyebrow lifted, though he didn’t make any attempt to remain facing me.

“That does not mean you automatically get to watch me change.” I pointed toward the rain beyond the shelter before he could develop that argument any further.

“Fair.” Malek turned around immediately, planting himself between me and the more exposed side of the overhang without making a production of it.

I peeled off my damp shirt and the sports bra beneath it, both wet enough that putting either back on sounded miserable. After drying myself as best I could with the spare cloth from my bag, I pulled Malek’s shirt directly over my bare skin. It hung low enough to cover the upper half of my thighs and was loose through the shoulders, but none of that was what caught me. Cedar, rain-dark earth, and the faint smoky edge that always belonged to him surrounded me from collar to hem, stronger than it had ever been on one of the blankets he had rested against or the things he had carried for me. I stood there for a second longer than necessary, breathing normally while absolutely pretending I wasn’t paying attention to it.

My Omega instincts were considerably less interested in pretending.

“Okay.” I gathered my wet shirt and sports bra together and tucked both into an outer pocket of my pack before looking toward Malek’s back. He turned and stopped, his gaze lingering long enough that I looked down at myself.

“What?” I asked Malek as I tugged the hem of his shirt a little lower over my thighs, becoming considerably more aware of how little I had on beneath it.

“You’re wearing my scent.” Malek admitted, his voice rougher than it had been a minute earlier as cedar thickened in the damp air around us.

“I’m wearing your shirt.” I corrected Malek, although the distinction felt considerably less convincing when every breath I took smelled like him.

“Yes.” Malek replied, the quiet satisfaction in both the word and his expression making it obvious that was exactly his point. I should have changed back after the shower ended, but I didn’t. The rain passed almost as quickly as it had arrived, leaving the forest brighter and dripping beyond the overhang. My own clothes were still wet enough that keeping Malek’s shirt on made practical sense for a while longer. Keeping it once they dried would be harder to defend, but I decided that was a future problem.

We continued upstream, and the magazine assignment remained work. A small troop of capuchins crossed the creek on a fallen tree twenty minutes later, one juvenile pausing with both hands wrapped around a vine while the water blurred behind it. I crouched, adjusted the angle, and shot several frames before the little monkey scrambled after the others. Malek stayed several yards back while I checked the images and marked the location in my notes, giving me the same space he had all morning.

By midafternoon, I had three strong options. Our slow loop along the creek had brought us back near the rock overhang where we had waited out the shower, and water still fell from the canopy in a steady patter, collecting on broad leaves before spilling in heavy drops onto the stones below. At two forty-seven, I checked my watch, looked through a break in the leaves toward the clearing sky, then glanced at Malek. I had been thinking about yesterday’s kiss off and on all afternoon, and by then I knew what I wanted.

I pulled the radio from my belt, and Malek’s attention dropped toward it. “Changing the return time?” Malek asked as he stepped closer, his eyes flicking briefly toward my watch before coming back to my face.

“Yes.” I extended the antenna and opened my field notebook to the page where I had been recording locations. “I have enough good material to justify staying later, and the light is improving after the rain. I want another pass along the creek before I head back.”

All of that was true. It simply wasn’t the only reason. I knew perfectly well how long an Alpha’s knot could potentially keep two people connected, and I had no intention of making Mara wonder where I was because I forgot how clocks worked the moment Malek got his hands on me.

“Station, this is Evie. Mara, you copy?” I spoke clearly into the handset while watching the signal indicator.

“Copy, Evie.” Mara answered after a brief burst of static, faint generator noise humming behind her voice. “How’s the emergency magazine rescue going?”

“Better than expected.” I smiled as I looked toward the camera bag beside the stone. “I have three strong candidates already. I want to keep working through the better afternoon light, so I’m updating my return to seven-thirty.”

“Copy. Same creek route?” Mara asked through the radio, the generator noise fading slightly as though she had moved farther from it.

“Same general route, working upstream.” I answered Mara while checking the sky one more time. “Weather passed here. No issues.”

“Seven-thirty it is.” Mara confirmed, and the faint scrape of a pen against paper carried through the connection. “If you’re not back by then, I reserve the right to insult your time management.”

“Fair.” I told Mara with a quiet laugh as I lowered the radio. “Evie clear.”

“Mara clear.” Mara replied through one last crackle of static before the channel went quiet. I clipped the radio back onto my belt and found Malek watching me. The way his gaze kept shifting between me and the radio told me he had already figured out there was more behind the extension than afternoon light.

“What?” I asked Malek, warmth beginning to creep beneath my skin.

“Seven-thirty.” Malek repeated, his golden-brown eyes returning to mine while something more intent settled into his expression.

“Yes.” I answered Malek. “I’d rather give myself more time than discover later that I was overly optimistic.” Understanding sharpened his expression, and then his scent changed. Cedar, wet earth, smoke, and Alpha deepened around me until the damp air seemed considerably warmer than it had a second earlier.

“You planned for that.” Malek said quietly, the muscles in his jaw tightening as though keeping himself where he stood required deliberate effort.

“I planned not to be stupid about it.” I corrected Malek as my fingers curled loosely around the bottom edge of his shirt where it hung over my hips. “There’s a difference.”

His gaze followed my hand before returning to my face. “Evie.” Malek said my name low enough that it sounded like a question without actually becoming one.