Page 17 of A Pack of Honey
After nightfall, I peek out of my bedroom window to see that the tent is up. They've managed it. They're tracking in sleeping bags, and they've purchased battery-operated lanterns. So, not completely hopeless. I'll give them two days.
I see the headlights of a car coming up the drive and tense. Is it the vandals coming back to do more damage? But then the car stops, and I see the light from a Tony's Pizza logo on the roof. Hunt pays the driver, and from the driver's smile, it's a generous tip.
When he turns, Hunt glances me in the window and flashes a toothy smile, raising the pizza in invitation to join them. The dinner was boxed into the fridge. I guess that's what Jess did in the house when I'd been talking. I roll my eyes at Hunt and close the curtains. Laying down, my omega is restless. She doesn't want to be here when our alphas are out there, but I stuff down the clawing need to go to them. I will not be encouraging them. Just because I'm having some issues on the farm doesn't mean I need a pack. Especially a pack that doesn't fit here. I fall into a troubled sleep.
Jess
Thisisuncomfortable.We'veeaten the pizza and shunted the trash in the corner of the tent. It's spacious enough, one central area and no separating walls. So, each of our sleeping bags is spaced out along the ground. Hunt had also grabbed camping pillows at the store. They're the thinnest things I've ever used. My head may as well be on the ground.
I'll be so sore in the morning. Cole and Luca will be goddamn mummies at their age. They're in great shape, but damn.
"This is great inspo for our hotel," Hunt says. I roll my eyes. That man can find diamonds in a sack of shit.
"Yeah? You gonna do the drapery in shitty green nylon?" I ask.
He huffs. "No, smartass. Listen." He shuts up, and I have no choice but to listen. It's so quiet out here. I grew up in Detroit. It's concrete and buildings and cars. So many cars. But here it's wind and crickets. The soft hum of the bees on the other side of the meadow. Grass and flowers brush against each other. The gentle lapping of waves in the distance. It's so foreign to me that I'm afraid I won't be able to sleep.
Finally, Hunt says, "I think, with this hotel, we need to do something softer. Something with less flash and more clean comfort." He always goes with his gut on stuff.
"Something more boutique?" Luca asks. As the lead architect, his designs must match Hunt's interior vision and vice versa.
"I was thinking the same thing." Cole's gruff voice cuts through the tent. We all lay, staring at the top of the tent, thinking about it. This project is coming more naturally than any before it. There's always some tension in a project, but now this one is falling together better than any in a long time.
For a moment, I imagine a life where we finish this hotel in Cole's hometown. Instead of moving on to the next project, we allow the other hotels to continue running with our seasoned staff and personally take over this one. We work and build this area up to be what Cole thinks it should be, and at night, we return to this beautiful farmhouse, and our beekeeping omega.
It plants a seed of warmth deep in my belly. It's the kind of life I never thought I'd have. Maybe this hope is a hurtful thing. Sunny certainly doesn't seem to want us. But I can't bring myself to douse the flame that's building in my core every time I think of her. I begin to drift away to the sounds of three grown men snoring.
As sleep begins to settle over me I feel Hunt shift beside me. The back of his hand brushes over mine and I freeze. His breathing evens out again but his skin is still touching mind and its all I can focus on as I drift to sleep myself.
When I wake up the next morning, it's to shouts of alarm.
Sunny
Menareshoutingandyelling in my front yard. I grab a silk robe from my nightstand and run down the steps to the first floor. The thin material tangles around me. My heart pounds a mile an hour. Did the vandals decide to come back so soon, in broad daylight? Maybe it’s a good thing the alphas stayed.
I just manage to get my robe closed before I fling open my front door and barrel out onto the porch. It's very early, and the sun barely peeks over the trees. Mist hangs heavy in the air, and dew clings to every surface. The massive tent in my yard is shaking. The zipper is yanked open, and all four alphas tumble out, scattering to escape something. No vandals—or anyone else—in sight.
"What in the hell are you doing?" I yell down at them, both relieved and furious. I could be sleeping right now. Sean is coming in to manage and do the opening shift, and even though I'm a naturally early riser, it's the principal.
Almost all of the alphas are in their boxers and T-shirts, but Cole only wears his boxers. I try to focus on his face, not thewashboard abs and biceps. His graying hair is disheveled, and his eyes are slightly wild.
"How did they get in?" Jess yells.
They who? I think before a small face with a bandit mask pops its head out of the open flap to look at us.
I can't help but laugh. It’s so cute. With my hands on my hips, I sigh at the sky. "Tell me you didn't leave food trash in your tent."
Every one of them looks at me with a guilty expression.
"What else would we do with it?" Jess tentatively asks.
"Oh, I don't know, put it in a trash bag and then tie it up in a tree?" I suggest. Every one of those grown-ass men looks at me blankly. "Oh. My. God. None of you have ever been camping, have you?" The idea that none ever went camping is preposterous, right?Right?
They all have the good sense to glance at each other, looking nervous.
"I went once," Cole mutters lamely.
"How long ago?" I ask, narrowing my eyes at him. He's the oldest of the pack. Not old by any means, but old enough to have camped before I was born. He grimaces and doesn’t answer. "Good lord." I go back inside and then come out with two pots. Marching down the steps and then around to the back of the tent opposite the open entrance, I raise the pans.
