Page 39 of Not Ready

“Listen, something came up. Tell Holt I’ll call him when things die down.” It’s actually difficult to hear him over the music, but I’m pretty sure that’s what he says.

Ranger hangs up without another word.

My feet propel me forward as Holt does pull-up after pull-up. He might have a slender build, but he is stacked with lithe muscles from his traps to his sides. I don’t even know what those particular muscles on his lower back are called, but they move and flex as he continues to work out.

I step around to the side.

Holt frowns as he spots me, but he does a final pull-up and drops to the floor with his chest heaving. He could turn to the side and look directly at me, but he’s still staring at me in the mirror.

It takes me way too long to realize that’s likely because, now that I’ve got a view of his front, I’ve been totally lady perving on him.

Dammit.

Chapter Fifteen

Holt

Ispot the little omega long before she steps around me and fully into my line of sight. Once she makes her presence known, I lower myself to the floor.

It’s been a long damn day.

That’s likely because I never went to sleep last night.

My nerves are shot.

Who knows what the fuck I was thinking when I agreed to join in with Bishop and Mercy’s scheme to get Mercy’s inheritance.

I’ve been purposely avoiding her all day.

I grab the remote from my sweats pocket and flick off the sound system.

“Ranger called. He said he’d call back when things die down,” Vale says, shaking the house phone that we almost never use at me.

“All right,” I agree, spinning to grab my towel off the nearby weight bench. My arms and back burn like hellfire.

“Do you want to keep the phone?” she asks, rubbing the side of her stomach. Her eyes catch mine, and her pupils are huge. The blue of her iris is a tiny ring around her saucer-like pupil.

I take the phone from her hand and shove it on the bench. “Are you feeling okay, Vale?”

She kind of sways forward as her nostrils flare. I chuck the towel on the seat of the weight bench and meet her in the middle. A whine escapes her puffy lips as her face wallows around my chest.

Fuck me.

I don’t think I’ve ever heard this particular type of whine from an omega. I didn’t even realize there were different varieties until right this very second.

“You smell so good. Beachy and salty, but it’s not enough.” She stretches up on her tiptoes, and her fingertips wrap around my shoulders as she tries to pull me lower. Normally, I’d ask her what the hell she thinks she’s doing.

My system seems to comply with her every demand. I bend lower, and she repositions her nose into the crook of my neck. At some point, my hand landed on the back of her head, and my fingers tease through her hair. The movement floods the air with her sweet strawberry scent, and my mouth waters.

“Up,” she whispers.

The military taught me to be very good at following commands. My forearm wraps under her ass, and I move the other to cradle her lower back.

“Can you tell me what’s wrong?” I murmur, lifting her.

Her very pregnant belly squishes against my abs as she stretches her legs around my ass. “I’m not sure. I had a wave of anxiety, or maybe panic, but this is helping.”

“Okay, good. Just keep breathing, then…” I say, like a totally clueless fucker. “You know what? I should probably take you to the nest. That would help, right? Omegas are always more comfortable in confined spaces.”

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