Page 83 of Pack Choice
“Molly, hi,” the one in the shirt says, shuffling around the table to plant a kiss on my cheek. “Lovely to meet you.”
“Lovely to meet you too.”
“Let me introduce you to everyone. I’m Hans. This is Chris. Guy and Jude.” Chris (the one with freckles) shuffles around the table to kiss my cheek as well and Guy and Jude both give me little waves.
Chris pulls back a chair, motioning to it. “Please take a seat. What can we get you to drink?”
“Oh,” I say as I lower myself down, trying to ignore Silver prowling around the tables from the corner of my eye. “What are you all drinking?”
“Sparkling mineral water,” Guy says, lifting his glass.
I swallow, wishing I’d necked a shot or two of tequila on my way out. I may need the Dutch courage to get through this date, but it seems drinking is out of the question.
“Maybe a diet cola?” I ask.
Chris waves towards the waitress but it’s Silver who comes stalking towards the table.
I suppress a groan, wishing the floor could swallow me up.
“Hi,” Silver says to the pack of alphas. “I’m Silver–”
“We know who you are.” Chris chuckles like Silver introducing himself is the funniest thing ever.
“Right,” Silver says, stiffening. “I’m Molly’s brothers’ packmate. In charge of security. Molly,” he says, addressing me, “everything here appears fine. I’ll be sitting in the corner if you need me.” He glances back up at the men who look uncomfortable to say the least. “Enjoy your dinner.”
“We will,” I chime. Although I’d probably enjoy it more if I could add some vodka to my cola. When Silver walks away, I lean in closer to the alphas. “Papa Joes makes the city’s best spaghetti after all.” Which is a lie. My mom did, but I’m not going to think about that right now.
“Oh I can’t eat spaghetti,” Guy says. “I have a gluten allergy.”
“You’re celiac,” I say, “I’m sorry, that must suck.”
“No, not celiac, just doesn’t agree with me.”
“He farts like a trooper,” Hans says and the other three laugh, Chris so hard he snorts.
I smile politely. Farting. Yep, definitely what a girl wants to hear about on a first date. Definitely a mark against them.
I push that thought to one side. I need to keep an open mind. Okay, so they’re not setting my heart racing or those naughty insides of mine fluttering, but that may come in time, right? Because they’re handsome and polite. I bet they can be loving and warm too. And in the last 24 hours my stupid insides have landed me in a whole heap of trouble.
“So if spaghetti is off the menu, what will you go for?”
“Hmmm,” Chris says, picking up the menu. “Probably garlic prawns.”
I try really hard not to screw up my nose. Garlicandprawns. I’m guessing the dude doesn’t expect any making out on a first date. Sensible. Hmmm.
“What would you like, Molly?” Hans asks, leaning in towards me.
“Definitely spaghetti for me. You can’t go wrong with spaghetti.”
“We don’t eat red meat,” Guy tells me.
“Because you’re worried about your health?”
“Because cows are destroying the environment.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s human beings, isn’t it?” I say.
Hans chuckles. “Very true.”
