Page 127 of Defiant Beta

And all because of the alpha downstairs, who doesn’t know how to answer a direct question if it smacked him in the face.

“A small thing.” I smile as I shut the door. “Just had some time after a meeting.”

I flop onto my bed, my cheeks aching from my stupid smile. “The guy went on a freaking spending spree. Forme.”

I itch to call Everleigh and ask why three alphas keep treating me like I’m a prized omega. But I shake my head at the thought and get up to prepare for the day.

I head downstairs in jeans and a turquoise sweater with my damp hair braided. My back felt fine while I dried it, so I skipped the ointment, hoping I won’t regret that decision later.

In the kitchen, a mug of steaming coffee sits on the kitchen island next to a closed file.

Vincent was here, and recently.

There’s no sign of him, though.

When a gust of wind cools my ankles, I follow it to the kitchen double doors, pushing them the rest of the way open and stepping out into a lush, rainforest-like garden.

I hadn’t realized this house came with its own enclosed garden, but it’s beautiful—nothing like the ultra-modern interiors.

I wander for a bit, weaving around tall trees and bushes, songbirds trilling overhead. My fingers glide over the soft leaves, and I inhale the earthy scent of pine and soil.

I’m turning back to the house when I see him.

Vincent. Back in office attire, he’s standing in front of… something. Damn those wide shoulders. As I lean to the side to see what he’s doing, I wince at the sharp crack of a twig snapping under my right foot.

He turns.

I duck, holding my breath as I hide, waiting for him to resume whatever he was doing so I can satisfy my curiosity.

Silence.

Slowly, I get to my feet and peer around me. Where did he go?

“You have a bad habit of sneaking, Miss Jackson.”

I yelp at a male voice that drifts over my shoulder, whipping around to glare at him. “What the fuck!”

He has his hands in his pockets, his gray eyes somber. “I suppose I should be grateful you weren’t crawling around my ankles like a cat for me to trip over.”

My spine stiffens. “That wasonetime, and I was nowhere near your ankles.”

He walks away as I twist around to discover what he might have been doing out here.

But there’s nothing.

Just a beautiful forest-like garden.

“Are you coming?” he calls out.

I jump again, cursing those dickhead alphas for this new stupid jumpiness. “What were you doing here?”

He keeps walking.

I scowl at his back. “You have a real issue with answering questions. Has anyone ever told you that before?” I shout after him.

He doesn’t even slow.

Grumbling under my breath, I follow him back to the kitchen, where I find him pulling eggs and bacon from the refrigerator.

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