Page 20 of In Doubt
“I don’t need to resort to underhand tactics like murder to beat you, smartarse.” I smirk at her, shaking my hand in her direction. “Come on. I want to get to work.”
She nods and starts biting at her lip again. Then with a little hesitation she takes my hand in hers and that same buzz of energy flies across my skin.
I gasp and the sound is echoed from her own mouth, her lips forming a perfect oh. But we both ignore this.
“Jump,” I tell her, maybe unable to stop myself from squeezing her fingers a little, “and I’ll cushion your landing.”
“Sure.” She gulps and then steps off the ledge and into the air, leaning her weight through her arm and onto mine. I take it and automatically my other arm wraps around her waist, ensuring her landing is soft.
We stumble as her feet hit the ground and her body, warm and pliant, falls against mine, sparking every one of my nerves.
“Alright?” I grunt, my arm still locked around her soft middle and refusing to move.
“Yes,” she squeaks, a delicious blush blossoming across the apples of her cheeks. The pupils of her eyes widen, her wet lips part, and her chest rises and falls.
My arm still won’t move and all I can do is stare at her like a damn fool, completely hypnotised by that intoxicating scent, by her beautiful face.
Then, she wriggles free of my gasp, and, quickly, scuttles to the other end of her trench, tugging on her gloves.
I watch her for a moment, before shaking myself out of my damn trance and finding my own gloves.
Without another word and without meeting my eye she squeezes past me in the trench, her scent and her warmth drowning me as she does even though she tries her best to make sure no part of her body connects with mine. She steps to the end of the trench where I’d been working yesterday.
That had been a pleasant surprise. I thought she would renege on our agreement and there’d be an argument about me working that end today. But, no, she’d swapped ends without me even reminding her.
We’re silent again as we work, although my progress is hampered by the glances I throw at her over my shoulder every other goddamn minute. I have the strangest sensation she’s looking at me too, but every time I check, her eyes are locked on her work.
The breeze shifts carrying her scent directly to my nose. I remember Aiden shoved a bandana in my pocket the night before and I tie it around my nose and my mouth, noting my packmate has bathed the material in some kind of perfume. The fucker can be a royal pain in the arse sometimes, but on discovery of that stroke of genius, I could kiss his feet.
“You’re right to be suspicious, you know?” she chirps up when the silence must finally have gotten to her.
“Huh?”
“About the laxatives.”
“You were considering it then.”
“No, I hate to admit but that clever plan hadn’t occurred to me. If you’d kept your mouth shut, you could’ve used it yourself.”
“Sabotage isn’t really my style. I believe in fair play.”
“Right,” she says with a whole heap of sarcasm. “It’s such a fair playing field for rich alphas.”
“You’re rich!” I remind her.
“Not me, my brother. And I’m an omega. Do you know how many teachers and even other pupils have told me I don’t need to worry about studying hard because I can find myself an alpha and be looked after for the rest of my days? Like that’s all I should ever aspire to in life!”
“I told you before. People are arseholes. And they have their own bullshit theories about alphas too.” Including you, I think, but bite my tongue. We had that argument yesterday and it got us nowhere.
“Anyway,” she says with frustration. “Laxatives can backfire.”
I snort at her choice of words and she giggles.
“Go on then,” I tell her. “You’re obviously dying to tell me this story.”
“OK.” She manoeuvres herself into position so she can dig at the ground and talk at the same time. “My brother’s pack is pretty big on pranks when it comes to April’s Fool Day. They’re always trying to ‘outdo’ each other. Last year, Ric convinced me to help him. We made a chocolate cake, ground a load of laxatives and mixed them in. Ric’s chocolate cakes are heavenly, even better than my mum’s.” She pauses, swallowing for a moment. “Anyway, only his packmates were meant to eat it. But Connie–”
“Connie?”
