Page 50 of Nest of Thieves
JO
A door snicks shut from somewhere inside the house, and Mac glances down the hall, pausing mid-sentence.
“Vette’s leaving.”
I glance at the clock. It’s almost noon on a Sunday. “It’s a little late for church.” I walk my fingers over the arm of the leather chair I’m sitting in.
“He’s going into the office, probably.” Mac cuts his gaze back to me. “You made a mess.”
“I won’t say sorry.”
The corners of his lips kick up. “I’d never ask you to. If I’m being honest, I’m a little impressed.”
“All in a day’s work.”
I woke a little before ten-thirty and found Mac in the kitchen with a bowl full of oatmeal. I made a point not to ask him why he’d eat slop. He directed me to the pantry, and I grabbed a quick granola bar, not wanting to take more from these guys than I have to. Vette’s middle of the night snack filled me up too. I should be good until this afternoon, and by then, I can figure out what places deliver and pay for my own food with the cash I have on hand.
Mac glances at his phone. “Oh, shit. I forgot about meeting up with a friend.” He eyes me. “I’m not supposed to leave you alone.”
“Are you guys scared of what I might do?”
“I think it’s safe to say we’re a little scared. It’s not every day an alpha gets taken down by an omega.”
I drum my fingers on the arm of the chair. “Perhaps alphas should be put in their place more often.”
“You can put me in my place whenever you like.”
I arch an eyebrow at him. “Is that so?”
“Absolutely. Come on, let’s go for a ride.”
“And if I say no?”
He places his hands on either side of my seat. I glare at him, but he only smirks. “I have no problem manhandling you, Kitten.”
I stand, forcing him to take a step back. “Is that why you’re single?”
“Why, curious?”
“Of course not. It would make sense, seeing as you have no sense of personal boundaries.” I put my finger in the middle of his chest, and he lets me push him back so I can walk around him. “Where are we going?”
“One of these days, I’m going to throw you over my shoulder and spank that perky ass.”
I pretend not to hear him. I also pretend like his words don’t send a little thrill of excitement through me. Mac slips in front of me and turns around, walking backward through the house. His cocky smirk is hard to ignore, but I do my best to remain unaffected.
“Ah, playing hard to get.”
“Do you ever get bored of being charming?”
He places his hand on his chest. “You think I’m charming?”
“Don’t let it go to your head.”
Chuckling, Mac turns and leads me through the foyer, through the hallway running past the kitchen, and into the garage. Lark drops his tools and wipes his grease covered fingers on a rag, meeting us in the middle of the concrete floor.
“What’s up?” Lark takes in my jean shorts and black tank top, an almost identical outfit to what I wore yesterday. Lines crease his forehead. The weather is warming up and I love shorts, so he’ll have to get used to them.
“We have that meeting with Pony.” Mac focuses on his phone. “We have thirty minutes to get there.”
