Page 136 of Pack Choice
36
Molly
“Is it bad?”I ask River two days later as he sits across from me on his private jet. Harper’s lying across the seats, her sleeping head resting in my lap, and Ford and Colt are talking softly in the seats across the aisle, comparing notes about sightseeing in Monaco. “Is it bad that you missed practice on the racing circuit?”
“Let’s just say the owner of my team had some choice words to say to me and my team are pretty pissed too but,” he shrugs, ruffling his curls with his hand, “I’ve raced that course countless times before. I know it like the back of my hand. I’m not concerned.”
“And the car, aren’t they meant to run tests and that kind of thing?”
“Are you worried about me, little one?” He smirks.
I peer down at the sleeping child in my lap, running my fingers through her soft dark hair. Her hair is silky and her cheek soft as velvet.
She insisted on sitting next to me, holding my hand as the plane took off and she closed her eyes in fright. Then asking me to find a movie for us to watch – one with vampires, the non-scary type – snuggling up to me and eventually falling asleep.
Since mom passed, I’ve felt lost. Not sure who I am meant to be. Or what I am meant to do. I don’t think it’s working in an office. I still haven’t completed the list Colt gave me and filing is way harder than it looks. I also don’t think it’s being a spinster aunt with a houseful of cats. Especially as it turns out cats hate me.
Perhaps I’ve had this all wrong. I’ve been insisting I’m an awful omega, but maybe I’m a pretty darn good one. Maybe I’m not so dissimilar from all the others. Because what I want is to take care of this pack. To nurture and look after them. To make them happy. Including this little girl in my lap. And including the crazy-ass racing car driver.
“You will be careful?” I ask River.
River scoffs and I peer back at him. He’s grinning at me. “Little one, that isn’t me. I’m not a bit careful. That’s why I win so many races.”
“I’m not sure I’m going to be able to watch,” I admit, swallowing down bile.
River leans forward and takes my hand in his.
“You know, nobody asked me to be careful before.”
I swallow. “It’s hard to lose the people you love.”
“Your mom?” he says.
“And my dad.”
“You’re not going to lose us, little one. You’re not going to lose me.”
“No,” I say stroking Harper’s cheek as she mumbles something about wooden stakes in her sleep. “Because I’m a stubborn little omega and I’m telling you right now River Caspian, I won’t ever let that happen.”
* * *
We arrivein Monte Carlo late in the evening, the sky now black and the lights of the city twinkling below us as we come into land. As we descend the steps of the jet, Colt carrying a still-snoozing Harper, we face a wall of cameras all flashing simultaneously in our faces and I receive yet another taste of what life as River Caspian must be like.
Ford ushers us towards a waiting vehicle as River distracts the paparazzi with waves and wide smiles. Unfortunately, it doesn’t do the trick and by the time we’re halfway across the city, my phone is already pinging with notifications. It seems my face is everywhere, people wanting to know if I’m River Caspian’s girlfriend and nearly every acquaintance I have – from the woman who cuts my hair to Cassidy freaking Monroe – messaging to find out if it’s true.
“Is it always like this?” I ask, examining the pictures of me and wishing I’d applied just a smidgen of makeup.
“The photographers and crowds of fans? Yeah, pretty much,” River says, winding down the window. “You’re a Stormgate, aren’t you used to it?”
“One, people are only interested in my brothers and their pack. Two, they’re not world-wide sporting superstars.”
“You think I’m a superstar?” River asks, puffing out his chest.
I roll my eyes, only forgiving him when we pull up to the swankiest hotel I’ve ever laid eyes on. It looks like someone stole the Gods’ Palace from the Mount of Olympus and dropped it right on the clifftop overlooking the water. As I climb out of the car, tipping back my head to take in the place, all lit up and framed by palm trees, River comes in to whisper in my ear.
“We have the presidential suite.”
“We?” I ask him.
