Page 31

“They’re actually blue,” he murmured, opening them wide.

“I see.” Ellie smiled, leaning against him.

It was the lure of an omega, the same thing we all felt with Avery, that every lupine did when close to one. Even more so in Sasha’s case, as he was not shy or quiet, not one of the scared little rabbits that many were, needing to be drawn out. He radiated kindness and gentleness, and as they were both alphas, the girls wanted to be close to him.

Tomlinson returned then carrying a large silver tray with a carafe of coffee that had already been made and would have been brought with whatever after-dinner snacks the kitchen had prepared, a small glass pitcher of milk, cream and sugar for the coffee, dessert plates, forks, and napkins.

The girls scrambled to the table, leaving a chair between them for Sasha, and he passed the box to Gigi, who had followed the girls.

“This was so kind of you.” She smiled at him.

“One must never pay a call empty-handed,” he told her.

“Agreed.” She took a breath, passing the box to Tomlinson, who had finished putting everything down on the table. “The girls want you to sit right here.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t. I simply need a quick word with Mr. Davenport. I’m serving dinner at eight, and I have the L timed perfectly to get home and⁠—”

“I’ll have my driver take you,” Graeme apprised him. “Please, have a seat.”

Sasha could no more say no to an alpha than he could eat a piece of meat. Omegas were incapable of doing either.

“What are you making?” Gigi asked, slipping around the table to take the seat right across from him. “And who for?”

“Oh,” he said as he sat down, hanging his laptop bag behind him on the chair. “Lasagna for the rest of the catalogers in my department at work. I believe our researchers will be there, as well as the poor guy in charge of shipping. Hudson’s is a small firm, so there aren’t many of us. I invited everyone, of course, but Mr. Hudson and my boss, Mr. Calvert, have already sent me apologies that they won’t be attending, as well as Madeline Breyer, our consignment manager.”

“Oh, I know Maddie Breyer. She’s organized some exhibits for our charity at the Field Museum. She’s lovely.”

Sasha nodded. “She certainly is.”

“You know,” Gigi began, leaning forward to study him, “before I met Avery, I’d never met an omega who worked, and now there’s so many of you.”

“I never thought to, but things change, as you know, and now there are millions of us who are gainfully employed. I love it and can’t imagine not doing it now.”

“Not interested in making a home for an alpha?”

He was quiet a moment. “I’ve learned that making a home for someone is more about the relationships of the people who live there, and not the time spent inside a specific house.”

“That’s absolutely right,” Avery agreed. “I work, but Graeme says that us being together is what makes this a home.”

With all eyes on the man, Graeme cleared his throat. “Indeed,” he muttered, sounding flustered. “Girls, try the cream puffs.”

They both had forks on their plates, but Sasha smiled wickedly and then picked his up with his hand, ignoring his utensils, and took a bite. Both girls followed his lead. Lauren gasped, then continued chewing, and Ellie wiggled happily in her seat and hummed to herself.

“I think you’re a hit,” Avery teased Sasha as I got up and crossed to the table, slipping around it to take a seat beside Gigi, wanting to be able to look at Sasha as well. I was tired of staring at his back, though the shoulders and jet-black hair were both nice. I liked the leather jacket, the thin cardigan underneath, his cargo pants, of all things, and what appeared to be high-end hiking boots. The last time I’d seen him he’d been swaddled in couture from a runway in Paris, but now… The casualness undid me a bit. He looked slightly rumpled and windblown and utterly captivating. His dark lips were far too tempting as well.

“Well, I do my best,” he quipped.

“So, Sasha, do tell me,” Graeme began, “what brings you by this evening?”

Immediately, those bewitching eyes of his flicked to me, then away. “Unfortunately, sir, I would be at liberty to speak to everyone here but Mr. Houghton-Crowne, so if I could arrange a time to come by your office, I⁠—”

“You saved my life, but you don’t wanna talk in front of me?” I snapped before I could stop myself, sounding far more angry than I was.

His eyes darkened, and I got then why people thought they were black when his icy gaze fell on me. “You have friends who would reel from my news, sir, and as I might already be in a little bit of trouble, I’d rather not hasten that along.”

“What friends? What’re you talking about? Spit it out already.”

The look I got, like he was appalled, made me realize I was snapping at him. I vowed to be softer, gentler, right before I blurted out, “are you surprised to see me alive?”