Page 19 of A Pack of Honey
But there are moments when she doesn't think anyone's watching, where she slumps a little, and her eyes glaze as she breathes deeply. It cracks something inside me. I head back to work at the dining room table with the guys.
Around midday, Sunny comes back to the farmhouse and grabs a protein bar. I get up from the table to get a glass of waterout of the sink. She doesn't move, and our arms graze as I fill a cup.
She's looking up at me through long lashes, and it takes all my strength not to lean down and taste her lips. I'm desperate to know everything about her, but she won't tell us anything.
"How's your day going?" I ask softly, mindful of the rest of the pack working at the dining room table. Her eyes snap back up from where she's been staring at my mouth.
"I—it's fine. It's a little busier than a normal Thursday, but nothing the new employees can't handle." She takes a sip, and I wish I could lick her mouth and feel her coolness against my heat.
"Do you need anything?" Her eyes go wide at this. Has no one ever tried to ask her what she needs? Well, that's my new goal in life.
"I'm fine, " she insists, and I don't believe a minute of it. I let it go though, and changed the subject.
"I was thinking about cooking tonight, as a thank you for cooking the last few times," I offer. Sunny’s shuffling through a few papers on the counter. As she turns, light from the kitchen window catches her golden hair and the side of her face. I swear she's a portrait.
"Are your cooking skills better than your camping skills?" she asks.
I chuckle and rub the back of my neck. "Honestly, probably not. I can boil spaghetti. Or we could order out our treat?"
She snorts. "From where? The café in town closes at three."
I stare at her. "There's only one café in town, and it closes at three? You cannot be serious."
"Welcome to small-town life." She smiles.
"Pizza?"
She makes a face. "I don't mind cooking. I'll do it anyway, so I'll just make enough." It seems like an olive branch. MaybeI'm reading too much into it, but cooking for us certainly seems like something you wouldn't bother with if you hated someone's guts. Right?
"Anyways, I guess you guys can keep working here if you like,” she says. “I don't use that table during the day anyway. I'll be back in later though, and I'm kicking you out then."
Every head that's been looking at a screen snaps their full attention on our conversation.
"Where are you going, Little One?" Cole asks his voice deep, brooking no argument. That doesn't matter since Sunny suddenly seems poised to argue.
"Out, " she replies, and Cole looks like he's ready to bark at her. His jaw works, and he obviously swallows it down.
"Can I come?" Jess asks unprompted. He's huge, tattooed, with long hair, and so imposing that people assume he's an asshole, but he honestly just has no filter.
Instead of being upset or annoyed like the other omegas we'd dated, Sunny seems genuinely pleased by his forthrightness.
"Not this time, big man,” she says.
He pouts, but she winks at him and turns to leave.
"What about the people harassing you?" Cole snarls.
She stops and turns back to him. "They do shit when they can't get caught. I don't see how running a few errands suddenly became dangerous."
"But you don't know."
This is escalating to a full-blown fight.
"Maybe," I suggest, "we could help you with your errand."
"Nope." Sunny throws over her shoulder as she walks out the door.
Sunny
