Page 115 of Their Knotty Pack
"I…" I shake my head, "I don't know what came over me."
"The scent match," she almost whispers, obvious conflicting feelings passing over her features. Of course that's what she thinks, with me being so hot and cold. She thinks I'm helpless to control myself when her scent is present.
"Don't you dare," I tell her sternly, fixing her with a look as I grip her chin again. "Whatever I do with you, bluebell, is because Iwantto. It has nothing to do with the scent match. Don't you dare take that away from us."
Her lips part, and I can't help but run my thumb over her plush bottom lip. Dammit, I really am losing it.
"Yes, sir." I hold in my groan at her words.Sir. But looking into her eyes, I can see that it's not sexual in the slightest. It's a sign of respect. It's my omega acknowledging me as head alpha.
"Good girl," I murmur, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips before releasing her.
She hums a sigh of contentment as she unbuckles from her seat and checks her phone. "Oh." Her brows furrow. "Damien won't be here for another fifteen minutes."
"You can come wait in my office," I tell her, meeting her around the front of my car and threading our fingers together. She gives me a shy smile that has my heart beating faster in my chest.
Itshould scare me, how quickly I'm falling for Bethany Thomas. But instead, I find myself bracing my heart for the impact.
Chapter 45
Bethany
My lips are still tingling from Hunter's kiss as he walks me into the station, the night shift officers greeting him with respect and deference.
I'm met with nods and smiles as he leads me upstairs to his office, and when he motions me in, I sit in one of the plush chairs opposite of his desk. "I'll be back in a few minutes, bluebell."
I nod, and he shuts the door behind him. The room is silent, the only sound the kick of the air conditioning as it turns on. My curiosity gets the better of me, and I find myself on the other side of his desk, looking at the three framed pictures he has.
In one frame is a teenage Hunter, with a navy blue cap and gown, diploma in hand. On either side of his huge body is an older Korean couple who look so much like him, it's obvious these are his parents. They only come up to his shoulders, but he has his dad's nose and chin, and his mom's eyes. I stare at the photo entirely too long, lost in the way his young eyes sparkle. My eyes catch on the year, embossed on the corner of the photo. Assuming he was eighteen when he graduated, that would make him…thirty-four now.
Five years older than me. It's not a big difference, but it's interesting, especially considering that makes him seven years older than Miles.
Myeyes drift to the photo next to it, which melts my heart. Two little boys, who are obviously Damien and Hunter, with their arms slung around each other's necks, all toothy grins and messy hair. They can't be older than eight in the picture, and it's amazing to me just how differently the two of them turned out. Hunter, with his calm and careful control, and Damien, all smooth grins and nonchalance.
The third and final picture, a selfie, taken by Damien, with Hunter, Brody, and Kieran all sitting at a bar. My brow furrows as I peer closer. That's…that's Bernie's. Which means this photo was probably taken on Christmas Eve. Brody is giving a bright smile, Kieran is flipping off the camera, Hunter is giving his best friend this long-suffering look, and Damien…well, Damien is Damien, signature playboy smirk in place as he takes the picture.
The night they all met for the first time.
My heart clenches. If I hadn't been so bitter, so resentful…maybe I would have met all my scent matches that night.
No. Not all of them. I wouldn't have had Miles.
We need to take some pictures of the six of us together, then I can frame it and have Hunter put us in his office. But for now…I reach into my purse, taking out my wallet. I find the small photo from when Miles took me to the pier before my heat and we did the photo booth together.
I'm smiling at the camera, while Miles is kissing one cheek, his opposite hand coming up to squish the other. Pursing my lips, I try to find somewhere to put the photo. On the frame with the picture of all the guys, there's a slight gap between the backing and the frame, and I slide it in so the picture peaks out from behind the frame.
I take a step back and admire my handiwork. There. That will have to do until I get a picture of the six of us.
My phone dings with a text and I pull it out, grinning at my omega's antics.
Miles
Alpha's first handjob! Put it in the scrapbook!
The picture that comes through is of him and Brody, both shirtless against the pillows of the nest, Brody passed the hell out while Miles snuggles against his chest. My heart warms at the sight, so happy we have a pack to take care of us in ways we're not quite equipped to care for each other.
Me
We have a scrapbook?
