Page 2 of Three of a Kind

The waitress stops by and drops off another round. I watch her backside sway as she returns to the bar.

“You’re really going to have to be less particular,” I grumble, aiming my beer at my best friend. “My dick is about to riot.”

Gunner scoffs, not taking his eyes off something across the room.

“I’m serious.” My head swivels until I catch sight of what has him so intrigued.

That would do it.

There’s a woman with long, dark-brown hair that falls in waves down her back. She’d seem a little out of place in her white knit sweater if it wasn’t for her little black flirty skirt.

Oh, yeah, she’s Gunner’s type to a T.

He likes the chase.

She has hazel eyes, if the low lighting isn’t affecting my ability to tell, and she’s cute.

She’s got that girl-next-door style, with curves that have me licking my lips like a total fucking creep. I don’t mind it when women objectify me, but I don’t like feeling like I’m objectifying her.

Gunner growls a low and dangerous sound. I follow his line of sight back to the woman. She’s with two men, and something in her posture as she backs away makes me sure my best friend is about to do something stupid.

My boot slams into his under the table. “I’ve got this.”

Shoving myself out of the booth, I slide past the ladies that immediately come over. It makes me feel like a dick because I would normally stop and at least flirt, but alas, I have a damsel in distress to rescue.

The chick steps back from the guys again, and this time, her ass bumps the wall. Those pretty hazel eyes of hers widen as she scans the room, like she’s searching for security, or maybe she just needs a friendly face.

I smile, waving as her eyes slide past mine. It’s only a few more long strides before I’m directly in front of her.

Turning to the side, I toss my arm around her shoulder.

The guys don’t say a word, and yet, the looks they shoot my way say it all.

I get close to her ear. “So, you can tell me to fuck off, but I thought you could use a save.”

She nods, curling deeper into my plain white T-shirt. Her head tilts, and I catch sight of those huge sparkling eyes right as her scent hits me.

She’s a fucking unbonded omega.

No wonder she’s garnering so much attention.

Her fruity apple pie scent is so complex, my nose twitches as I try to pick out each of the individual smells. There’s cinnamon, creamy vanilla, and something like tart green apples.

I tighten my hold on her shoulder and smirk at the dicks now glaring at me. “Sorry I’m late. Thanks for keeping an eye on her for me.”

“You never said you were waiting for anyone,” the dipshit on the right growls.

Of course, he’s an alpha.

“Come on, sweetheart,” I say, nuzzling my cheek to the top of her head. “We’ve got a table. I can’t believe I missed you when we first came in.”

“It is busy,” she says in a soft-as-silk tone that makes a shiver run down my spine. “Have a good night, you guys.”

I pull her toward Gunner without a backward glance. Once we’re about five feet from the table, he shoves himself out of the booth.

I guide her to slide in on the side I was on as Gun handles the two idiots, who seem to have multiplied when I check because there are now four.

“Will he be okay?” she asks, gripping my forearm with her cold fingers.

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