Page 161 of Captive Omega

Later, Garrison and I stand at the front door, watching Jerome and his dorm roommate—and lover—leave. Both grin at us before they climb into their car.

As they drive away, I turn to Garrison.

“You’re really good at this stuff, aren’t you?” I don’t mean to sound so surprised. It probably comes across as insulting, but it triggers a flare of amusement.

“I would hope I’ve improved over the years.”

We turn to enter the house together. Bump shoulders. Stop. I blush.

“After you,” he says at the same time as me.

Neither of us moves.

Since we can’t spend the rest of our lives staring at each other in the doorway, and Garrison is showing no sign of moving, I walk inside. “Well, I’ll see you around.”

I feel his gaze tracking me up the stairs.

“Resa?”

Halfway up, I twist to face him. “Yeah?”

“Thank you. Without your observation, I wouldn’t have solved this case as fast as I did. You should be proud. I wasn’t looking for a new hire, but if you were interested…”

I am proud. I achieved change, something I never accomplished in my old job. Or ever.

Real. Actual. Change.

I didn’t do as much as Garrison seems to think I did, but I the thought of helping someone else excites me more than it should when I know I’m not sticking around.

Which makes me wonder…

My first night here, Garrison said he didn’t care about scent matches. All he wanted was to help return me to my life and my fiancé. I think he very much does care.

“I’m fighting off a three-pronged attack, aren’t I?”

He cracks a smile as he closes the front door and sticks his hands in his pockets. “An attack? I’m not sure I’d call it that at all. I’ll see you tonight, Resa.”

“What’s happening tonight?”

“My puzzle. I might see myself finishing it this century with your help.” He walks away, back toward the meeting room.

“And without my help?” I call after him.

He pauses, looks me right in the eye with an intensity I wasn’t expecting. “I’m not sure I’m as motivated to finish it without you.”

He leaves and I stare after him, chewing my lip.

I was wrong. It’s not an attack. It’s an ambush. One determined to win me over.

An offer of an exciting job.

Two hot alphas.

One cheeky beta who knows how to make me laugh and how to use his tongue.

And a nest they spent an entire day building just for me.

“Definitely an ambush,” I mutter. “Stay alert, Resa, because it’s working.”

---