Page 7 of The Omega's Surprise Baby
“Always great to meet a fan,” I said, looking him in the eye to let him know I was on to him. Judging by his reaction to what his daughter had said, he at least thought I was pretty. Shane was easy on the eyes too. He wasn't pretty, no, pretty was for omegas, and he was all alpha, from the way he smelled to the firm way he shook my hand. And I felt his eyes roam my body at the same time that mine admired his strong arms.
I'd been told that Shane wasn't looking for a mate. Perhaps that was true, but still, I thought I could detectsomeinterest from him.
Or maybe that was simply his reaction to being in the presence of someone somewhat famous? He was a small-town guy, after all.
As I let go of his hand, I decided not to think about it too much. I was here to work, not to seduce a widowed single dad. No matter how hot or ginger that widowed single dad was.
“Do you need help carrying your things?” he asked.
“I'll be fine.”
“You can helpme,” Nick chimed in, coming around the car and giving his cousin a quick hug. “Good to see you, Shane! How have you been doing?”
They quickly fell into conversation, and with the attention deflected from me, I opened the back door of the car and carefully got my guitar out. Mary watched me curiously.
“Play something!” she demanded.
“Mary, let our guest unpack,” her father chided.
“I'll play something for you later,” I promised while Nick grabbed my suitcase and Shane grabbed his.
“Yay!” She pumped a fist in the air. It was the cutest thing.
“Do you want to show our guests their room?” Shane asked.
“Yes!” Mary grabbed my arm and led me into the house. Nick followed, chuckling. I knew that since moving to Portland as a teen, and then L.A. as an adult, he'd only been back to Oceanport once or twice, and this was his first time seeing Shane's house.
As we went inside, Mary nearly stumbled over a Golden Retriever sleeping in the middle of the hallway. The dog woke with a start and let out a bark.
“Be quiet, Max!” I heard a little boy's voice call from the kitchen. Right. Nick had mentioned there were two children. Seemed like Mary's brother wasn't a fan of me, though, as he hadn't come out to greet us. Not that I minded. I'd been a quiet child myself, especially after I'd been forced to live with my aunt and uncle. I understood not being ecstatic at the thought of sharing your house with a stranger.
But Mary dragged me farther down the hallway before I could concern myself with the boy.
“Hello, Conner!” Nick called out as we passed the kitchen.
“Hello, Nick,” the response came, a little quieter. As we walked by, I got a look at Conner and understood why—he was reading. Well, that explained the lackluster reception.
Mary led us up the stairs, and into the first room on the right. “You sleep here!” She pointed to the door on the left. “I sleep there!” She opened the door to her room. “Look!”
That was the moment Shane came up the stairs, carrying Nick's suitcase. “Princess,” he said, “you were supposed to show them their room, not yours.” He was smiling, though, and I figured it wouldn't hurt to take a look at the little girl's room. We'd had a long trip, yeah, but five more minutes before I got to unpack wouldn't kill me.
“It's a very nice room,” I told her, eying all the colorful drawings that hung on the wall. “Very messy, though.” In fact, so many toys littered the floor that I wasn't even sure of the color of the carpet. Was this why Shane hadn't wanted her to show me this room? Because it was a mess?
I looked at him and he shrugged. “It gets busy around here.”
Fair enough, and who was I to judge?
Shane opened the door to the guest room and set Nick's suitcase down inside. Then he picked up his daughter. “C'mon, Mary. We should give our guests a minute to rest.”
“I want to watch YouTube.”
Shane laughed. “You know you only get to watch YouTube if you put your toys away.” Turning to us, he said, “I'll be making coffee if you want to join me downstairs in a moment.”
“Coffee sounds great,” I said, and Nick nodded.
“And then you sing!” Mary demanded from her position in her Dad's arms.
“I wouldloveto sing for you,” I responded. Hell, I loved to sing for anyone who wanted to listen. “But I'll be singing at the wedding anyway.”
