Page 169 of Defiant Beta

This morning, Vincent said he tried to talk her out of coming to work, but she said she’d agreed to the shift and didn’t want to let anyone down. Good thing too. If she’d stayed home, it would’ve messed with the plans I have for her.

I lean over the counter to kiss her on the lips, and the blonde woman sighs. “Here to pick you up for our lunch date.”

Her nose scrunches, adorably confused. “What lunch date?”

“The one I want to take you out on right now.” I glance at my watch. “We have a booking for one.”

“But I don’t have a break yet.”

“I can sneak you out,” I offer with a wink.

She smiles slightly. “I have to work.”

“No, you don’t. Not if you don’t want to.”

She hesitates.

“I missed you,” I continue, hoping to wear her down. We have more money than we’ll ever spend. If Della doesn’t want to work, she doesn’t need to. I tuck a strand of red hair behind her ear. “We invited you into our house, and along the way, you became the heart of us. Now you’re gone, and nothing feels the way it should.”

Her expression is impossible to read. “How does it feel?”

“Like something is missing. We miss you and we want you to come home.”

“It’s not my home,” she whispers.

“But it could be. If you don’t like the glass and the ultra-modern vibes, we’ll pick up our stuff and move it somewhere else. As long as you’re with us, it’ll feel like home.”

“I’m not—” She yelps when an empty perfume box bounces off the side of her head and turns to glare at the blond woman watching us. “Rose? What thehell?”

"I’m knocking sense into you. After what that man just said to you, you’re taking your lunch break early. I’ll cover your counter.”

“But—”

“Paula doesn’t give a shit as long as customers aren’t kept waiting.Go. Talk to Mr. Hot Stuff. And if you want to do a littlemore than talk, I won’t say anything if you’re late back.” She waggles her eyebrows suggestively.

“We’re on the front counter,” Della hisses as I grin at her friend.

Rose lifts her chin. “Then maybe I’ll inspire these fools to actuallybuysomething instead of just stopping by to use up the samples.”

Della releases a sigh. “Okay, fine. I’ll go. I have my cell if Paula is on a warpath. Call me.”

Her friend waves. “Go.” Her eyes settle on me. “Got any hot alpha friends?”

I shake my head. “Sorry, they’re all taken.”

“They always are,” she mutters.

“Be right back.” Della heads to the back of the store and returns wearing a denim coat over her light blue fitted skirt and short-sleeve blouse.

Outside, on a mild early afternoon, I take her hand and tug her closer.

She blushes. “You don’t have to hold my hand.”

“See, I kind of do.” I lead her down the road. “Has my brother asked you yet?”

She peers up at me. “Asked me what?”

“About you quitting your job and Paris.”

---