Page 56 of Wrestling With Werewolves

Perfection, Big Daddy sighs. She takes care like she should.

It’s something he’s said to me before, when Lola first arrived. And he’s right. Like any good pack omega, her first priority is harmony. It’s how all omegas are wired.

I reach for a stray, tangled curl and pull my fingers through it as she groans and looks at her hair.

“Ugh, I didn’t wrap it in my satin hair scarf, and now look at this mess.”

I grin as I pull the tangle gently out of her curl and then tuck it in the matted mess of the rest of her poofy hair. “Let me help you fix it.”

“You should,” she snarks, slapping my chest playfully. “You made this mess.”

Heat flares in my sack as I think about how I cleaned her last night. “I’m a huge fan of cleaning up messes.” I dip down to press a trail of kisses from her bellybutton upward.

When she moans softly, my body tightens. She’s already coated in a thin sheen of sweat, her skin burning against mine.

Too hot, Big Daddy murmurs thoughtfully. Too hot, too early.

Too early? What do you mean?

But he recedes into the distance, watching Lola and me through narrowed eyes.

Lola’s stomach rumbles, and my need to protect and care for her kicks into overdrive. I roll out of bed and give her a look.

“Let me start breakfast. Come out whenever you’re ready, and I’ll help you with your hair. I was serious about mess cleanup. I’m nothing if not devoted.”

She laughs and sits up, rolling out of bed after me and heading to the bathroom.

Ten minutes later, I’m stacking pork tamales onto a plate when she emerges from my room and seats herself gracefully at the bar. She gives the breakfast a wry look, then laughs up at me.

“Let me guess. Tamales are the one recipe you know?”

I wave my spatula at her. “I don’t entertain a lot, and when I do, I do it at the bar. Tamales are my best option.”

She grabs a still-steaming tamal off the plate and bites it, eyes rolling back into her head as she chews.

“See.” I give her a knowing look. “Tell me that’s not damn delicious. I order the pork from Santa Alaya.”

She grins and swallows. “I stand corrected, Alpha.”

Big Daddy shoves to the front, his green shining through my eyes.

I really want you to bite her, he sighs.

Gotta wait.

No wait. Marco can’t deny a claiming bite.

No, no, he can’t. But I don’t think I’ll even get a chance to explain what’s going on if we tell him, and I’ve already claimed Lola.

“I lost you,” she murmurs softly. “What’s going on?”

I switch thought processes. “I’m going to visit Leighton’s parents this morning and take breakfast. Would you like to go with me?”

She smiles, and it’s so stunning, I forget to breathe for a moment.

“What?” She cocks her head to the side and her smile softens.

“You’re so beautiful, I stopped breathing,” I admit.

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