Page 59 of In Doubt
I chop tomatoes and cucumbers, toss them together in a ceramic bowl with a drizzle of olive oil, and walk the plate over to the long elegant dining table at the other side of the kitchen.
As I do, Jake walks back through.
“Looks like me and Giorgie are heading back to the site this evening.”
“You OK with that?” I ask him, examining his face with concern.
“I’ll be fine,” he scratches at the back of his neck. “It’ll be fine,” he repeats. “I’m just going to need a fuck load of suppressant to get me through this. I’m surprised I haven’t overdosed on the stuff already.”
“Are you going to tell Giorgie the news?”
He nods.
“OK, I’ll come with you. The food is ready.”
Stealing a handful of crisps from my spread, Jake strides towards the pool and I follow after him.
We find her lying on a sunlounger in the shade, eyes closed, dressed in a red bikini.
I swallow hard. She looks like a model out of a playboy magazine, with her long dark hair falling over her shoulders and her waist cinched in giving way to her curved hips and then her honey coloured legs stretching on for miles. And the glasses. I’ve always had a weak spot for a girl in glasses.
I have the urge to scoop her up into my arms and carry her to my bed.
Her nose twitches and her eyes drift open. She finds Jake hovering at her side and her mouth curls into a smile.
“Professor Weaver just called me,” Jake says.
She sits up, wrapping her arms around her bent legs. “Really?”
“The trench is all ready for us and she’s arranged for us to go work on it this evening. We have to be there by five.”
“In the dark?” Giorgie asks, tipping her head to one side in confusion.
“The Professor’s arranging some lighting for us.”
“Wow!” She chews on her bottom lip, thinking.
“Seems she wants to show Professor Lichenstein he’s wrong. I’d like to show that turd he’s an idiot too.”
“And me,” she grins. “Let’s do it!”
I look between the two of them, resting my hand on my packmate’s shoulder. These two would make a good team if they’d just work together. I’m happy for him. I squeeze his shoulder reassuringly, then yell to the others.
“Who’s hungry?”
“Me,” Giorgie grins and her friends all nod in agreement.
“Come and get it then.” I wink and they all follow me inside like I’m the pied piper.
They say a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Well, I’ve learned the way into a woman’s bed is through hers. Handy, seeing as I love to cook.
As expected, there are lots of delighted squeals when the women spot the food and cocktails I’ve spread out across the long, elegant dining table.
I instruct the women to grab plates and help themselves, and us alphas stand back and wait for them to finish.
“This looks like it came straight out of a five-star restaurant,” Sia says. “Are you sure you made it?”
“Dylan could run his own five-star restaurant if he wanted to,” Levi tells her.
