Page 2 of Wild Card

Hell, maybe I’m just getting old. Before too long, everyone will seem young compared to me.

“Okay, let’s see where we can put you,” I say absently as I scan the rooms.

She’s not going anywhere near the few dock workers who keep a room here full-time. She’s also not getting a room close to the bar.

Holy shit.

My instincts don’t like knowing she’s here alone.

That seems dangerous.

Omegas are meant to be coveted and protected.

It appears I’m going to have to be extra vigilant until she gets the call to head over to The Exchange.

“Would you like these anywhere in particular?” I ask, holding out her two large duffel bags. She has a book bag tossed over her shoulder, but I have no idea where that was while she checked in. She probably pulled it off when she took off her coat, and I just failed to notice it.

Lennox spins to face me, and her brown hair flies out around her.

She smiles softly and shrugs.

“Anywhere. I mean, you can toss them just there.” She points in front of the dresser that houses the television.

Being alone in her room with an unknown alpha could make her uncomfortable, so I keep the door open with my boot and stretch to toss the bags down.

“Well, you’re all set. There are towels in the bathroom, and if you need anything else, just hit zero on the phone. It’ll call down to the desk.” I smile, wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans.

Damn.

I’m never this awkward, but I think her discomfort is bleeding into me.

“Thank you.”

I nod. “Of course. We don’t really do room service, but the restaurant is open from eight to eight. The bar is open until ten.”

She smiles, squeezing the jacket she’s still got tossed over her forearm. “Thanks. I’ll have to come down and check it out.”

It’s extremely hard to be an alpha around an unsettled omega, but my job isn’t to stick around and see what’s bothering her.

I give a friendly wave and force myself out the door.

Chapter Two

Lennox

In general, I prefer talking on the phone to texting. If I have to text, I use talk-to-text and let my phone screen reader handle reading me any incoming responses. However, I almost wish I had texted instead of called.

Brooklyn is anxious, and I swear it’s spilling through the phone and into me.

“Lennox?” Sometimes, when she says my name, she sounds a little too much like our mom.

“I’m safe and sound,” I assure her, readjusting the phone as I check my dress in the mirror.

“Okay, but if you change your mind…” Brooklyn sighs. “I really wish you had gone to The Exchange location in North Carolina. It’s so much closer, and my guys know the owners somehow.”

I love her to pieces.

I lucked out with a great sister, but she’s also mentioned that information no less than five times in the last month. I appreciate her more than she will ever know, but I’m honestly at a place where I need to start taking charge of my own life.

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