Page 61 of Pack Choice
“Come on,” I jerk my head towards the door. “Can we go home? I’m tired.”
“Of course.”
Outside, under the awning at the front of the hotel, we wait for the concierge to fetch the SUV. It’s pouring down with rain, the porter nudging the bulging awning every few minutes to free it of water, raindrops splashing knee high on the concrete. When the car arrives, Ford makes me wait under the shelter, while he circles the car, ducking underneath as well as popping the bonnet and the trunk.
He’s just slamming it shut, when Colt comes sprinting out of the hotel and skids to a halt beside me.
“Where are you going?”
“Home,” I say, trying not to pout. “I didn’t fancy hanging around to watch that woman paw all over you.”
“Omega,” he says, ducking down to meet my eye. “You’re my date and I’ve had to stand by and watch other men paw over you all evening.”
He’s right. And I am not that girl. Playing games with people’s emotions.
I’ve been bad in a completely inexcusable way.
“I’m sorry.”
“You are?”
I nod.
“Then make it up to me and let me drive you home,” he says with that usual cocky smirk.
I roll my eyes at him. “You know one day, Omega, you’re gonna roll your eyes so goddamn hard, they’ll roll right out of your head.”
“I’d stop if you stopped giving me reasons to do it.”
“Touché,” he says, chuckling.
“Where’s River?” I ask, aware Ford is waiting for me by the car.
Colt steps closer, lowering his voice so we can’t be overheard. “I’m sorry sweetheart, we appreciate that offer, but it isn’t happening.” I worry at my lip, embarrassed, disappointed, frustrated. “You’re all right,” Colt whispers, running his hand in circles over my lower back.
I find my smile again. “Yeah, sure.” I gesture towards the downpour. “Can your car survive in weather like this?”
“Of course she can.” He strokes his thumb against my back. “That mean you will let me drive you home?”
“You can, as long as you know it’s for your car, and not for you.”
“She is far sexier than me,” he says, passing his token to the concierge.
“And she has a very sexy purr.”
“No, sweetheart, I’m not sure you’ve heard mine. I can assure you it’s a million times sexier.” I bet it is. My insides spin.
Ford doesn’t argue when I tell him the change of plan, simply nods stiffly and waits as Colten helps me into his car, an umbrella bobbing above our heads. When he climbs in beside me, he drags the umbrella in with him and throws it into the back footwell. Then he shakes his head, raindrops flying across the car.
“Hey,” I protest, “you’re getting me wet.”
He turns to me slowly, chuckling. “The stuff that comes out of your mouth, Omega.”
“You know I didn’t mean it like that.”
“So I don’t make you wet?” he says matter-of-factly as he turns the key in the engine and it growls into life.
“When you shake water at me, yes.”
