Page 33 of Tying the Knot
I turn my glare onto Kaleb, who appears startled that I singled him out suddenly. “Do I have a choice?”
“Of course.”
“But not really.”
His mouth twists into a sheepish smile. “Sort of. We really need that information. But it’s up to you. You will be protected the entire time. I will be with you or Elijah.”
“Or both,” Elijah states with a low growl that sends a thrill down my spine.
“Can I think about it?” The thought of standing in front of Pierce with these two badass, growly alphas protecting me is something that appeals to my darker side. Maybe I should do this just to show him, all of them, that I’ve moved on and have men who will defend me, not manipulate me. Not that Ihavethem, but they don’t need to know that. Maybe it’s time for some manipulation of my own.
“Yes, but we would ask that you don’t take too long.”
“Got it, Commander,” I reply with a mock salute.
He snorts softly with amusement, but I see the heat in his eyes. He enjoys me calling him that. I quite like it myself. It’s all authoritative and commanding.
The tension dissipates, and Dylan rises from the couch. “Coffee, then?”
I nod. “Yes, please.”
I turn back to the window to stare out of it, feeling a tiny chill skitter over my skin. My heart skips a beat when I see a big, black SUV drive slowly past the house, the tinted windows making it impossible to see in.
I watch as it rolls by and then shoots off, probably because they saw me looking.
Licking my lips, I turn away to see Elijah standing behind me, but a little bit away, glaring out of the window with extreme malice. He definitely saw what I did, and he absolutely did not like it one bit.
Shit.
I think these supplier guys just foundme.
ChapterTwenty-Three
Kaleb
Dylanand I stand in the kitchen, the air thick with anticipation. The wind outside has whipped up, and the clouds have come scudding through the sky. The branches of the old oak tree on the pavement outside are waving about as if alive, almost like a warning for something that is about to happen.
It gives me the creeps. I’m not sure why, but something doesn’t feel right. The silence is heavy, almost as if the wind has created a vacuum that cannot be filled. Dylan’s presence next to me as we make coffee for all of us is comforting in the way that I’m not alone with these ominous thoughts.
I’m sure we’re both thinking the same thing: what is going to happen now? What would the omega, who has suddenly and unexpectedly arrived in our lives, do now? She hasn’t run a mile, even though we haven’t exactly given her a reason to stay. Well, apart from her washing. That was good, solid foresight on Nik’s part.
I fill the kettle with water, Dylan gets the mugs, and soon the smell of freshly brewed coffee fills the kitchen.
But still, neither of us speaks.
Catching that chocolate-orange scent, I look up and see Morgan standing in the doorway.
Her eyes are wide and emerald green, her face is pale, and her expression is vulnerable. Her hair is long and silky, and it falls around her shoulders in gentle waves. She looks like an angel.
“Can I help?” she asks.
Dylan and I exchange a glance. We are both in awe of her. It’s a surreal feeling like it’s a dream, like she is a dream that I’m about to wake up from, and I can’t quite grasp her to cling to it.
“We’re done,” I mutter like an idiot.
“But you can grab the biscuits,” Dylan pipes up, a much smoother talker than me, it seems. Mind you, he has been around her more. Kissed her, even. That thought annoys the shit out of me.
She grins and grabs the tin from where Dyl has pointed it out.
