Page 37 of Wanted Beta

“Me, and that’s the problem,” Arrow says.

“Um … What?”

“Long story. Where are you?”

“I’m headed back home right now.”

“Oh, thank God!”

“You need me back there?”

Did the flyers actually work?

“Yeah, but don’t get too excited. We’ve only got a couple tables, but I’d really rather not be the one serving them right now.”

“What? Why? Are they being assholes?”

The thought makes me angry, and I start to sprint a little, weaving my way between people faster in an effort to make it back to my Omega’s side sooner.

“It’s nothing like that. I just … I perfumed, right before they came in. They’re Betas and I don’t think they recognized it for what it is, but they definitely noticed. I blamed the desert tray when they commented on it. I’d rather not make it even more obvious it’s me by having to serve them.”

That calms me down a little, but the urge to protect him doesn’t just go away.

He still needs my help, and I won’t feel happy until I’ve done what needs to be done to make him feel better.

“I’m glad you called. I’m almost there.”

“Great,” he says, pausing for a second before asking, “Is Gio with you?”

“Uh, no. Why?” I ask.

“It’s probably nothing, but Enzo took his phone, so we won’t be able to contact him.”

I slow to a stop outside the restaurant, realizing I was rushing so much I was about to run straight past the door.

“I’m back,” I say, before I hang up and open the door.

Arrow looks up from the desk, wide-eyed with relief as he puts his phone away.

My Omega mate’s beauty always takes my breath away. He has flawless pale skin, fine, platinum-blond hair, and silver-blue eyes that captivate so damn easily whenever he’s not lost to a daydream.

Right now, he’s completely present and I can’t take my eyes off him.

“I’m so glad you’re back!” He gives me a smile. “I was freaking out.”

His perfume has obviously faded a bit since it was triggered, but it’s still there, spicing the air with the sweet scent and taste of Arrow.

I breathe in deeply and let out a soft sigh.

It’s an intoxicating scent, particularly when it’s at its full potency.

I’m grateful that it’s fading, and I’m sure Arrow is, too.

He glances at the tables and brings out a stack of leather-bound menus from under the desk.

“What triggered you, anyway?” I ask as I take the menus out of his hands.

His pale cheeks flush a cute shade of pink. “Enzo.”

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