Page 13 of A Pack of Mistletoe
My bag’s already tucked neatly in the master closet, the most convenient spot when I enter the bedroom.
“Thank you,” I say, tipping my hat.
She smiles. Small. Shy. The kind that hits somewhere low in my gut. She tucks a wild curl behind her ear, and my fingers twitch with the urge to do it for her.
A quiet cough from behind makes me turn. Kai stands there, hands in his pockets, looking composed as always. I clear my throat and look away, but being between the two of them has my pulse pounding and a tight, restless ache settling in my stomach.
Kai behind me. Rose in front of me. Not thoughts I should be having. Not now.
I shake them off. Or try to. We’re about to sleep in our first pack bed together. Without an omega we had our own rooms before. But with an omega it would look suspicious to continue that way. Well, all except Rose. The thought sours something in my chest. I don’t know why it bothers me so much.
“Rosie,” Kai says softly, “if you can’t sleep on the couch, I’ll be on the left. I’ll leave a spot open for you if you change your mind. No one will come near you.”
None of us would ever force anything. The thought alone makes my jaw clench.
“Thank you, Kai,” she says quietly.
It’s late. The reporter mess happened near dinner, and by the time Harlan bribed a store into rushing the pack bed over and we picked up our bags, it was nearly midnight.
We all move around getting ready for bed—awkward as hell. Sliding past each other in the narrow hall, Rose darting around us with her clothes tucked under her arm.
Then she walks out of the bathroom in a little two-piece set. Camisole top and short shorts over amazing curves. My heart stops dead.
And judging by the silence, I’m not the only one.
Every alpha looks struck dumb. Eyes wide and hungry. Rose doesn’t seem to notice, offering a soft “Goodnight” before slipping under the blankets she’s laid out on the couch. She turns off the lamp, the room dipping into shadow.
We file into the bedroom like we’re sleepwalking. A few hard lines under the fabric of boxers and sweats make it clear we’re all in the same kind of misery. Scent or no scent, Beta or omega, that is one sexy curvy woman.
Harlan slides into the middle. Evander curls against him. Logan turns his back to them, letting himself be held but still careful, like the air between them might break. Harlan’s hands stay on Evander only, disciplined. He’ll forgive Logan eventually, no doubt about that, but it’s still raw.
That leaves the far side of the bed for me and Kai.
I glance over. He’s already looking at me. That steady gaze sparks something I don’t have words for.
“You, uh… mind if I take the outside? For Rosie,” he says, voice gruff.
I nod and slide under the covers. He hesitates, then climbs in beside me. To leave the edge free for her, he moves close.
Even though Harlan’s pressed against my other side, it’s different. Harlan’s my pack brother. Kai… Kai’s something else. Something I want.
Our arms brush. Skin-to-skin.
I tell myself to let it go. To roll over, to sleep. Instead, my fingers drift, brushing the backs of his.
For one long heartbeat, he doesn’t move. My chest sinks with regret. I start to pull away—
Then his fingers flex, stretch, and wrap around mine.
My heart rockets.
It takes me a long damn time to fall asleep.
Rose
My body feels like all eight of Santa’s reindeer trampled me. Every inch of me aches, but none more than my poor back. And that was afteronenight on the couch. Maybe I should’ve tried the floor.
The alphas all look irritatingly well-rested. Harlan, Logan, and Kai sit around the breakfast table, sipping coffee delivered with the groceries. Evander sips tea, looking like death warmed over—definitely not a morning person. Wyatt’s at the stove making breakfast, which smells unfairly good.
