Page 67 of Alpha Jax

“I don’t know,” she mumbles, casting her eyes downward and kicking at the pavement. Her hesitant gaze flutters back up to meet mine. “That seems a littlerule breaky, doesn’t it?”

I shrug again. “I don’t see anything wrong in bringing a friend along for dinner.”

Why the hell am I trying to talk her into it? This is bound to be a terrible fucking idea.

“Okay.”

My eyes widen in surprise. “Yeah?” I ask, a little too enthusiastically.

Quinn giggles, and the soft sound is like music to my ears. “Yeah, I could eat.”

I give a little flick of my head, indicating for her to follow me, and the two of us head toward my truck and climb in. As Quinn buckles her seatbelt, she looks down at herself, furrowing her brow.

“Is this okay?” she asks, gesturing to herself. “I mean I didn’t exactly plan for a family dinner when I got dressed today.”

Quinn could literally wear a trash bag and still look like a runway model, but I indulge her by giving her a slow once-over, taking in her fitted black jeans and white cotton eyelet top. Her chocolate brown hair has a slight wave to it today, and she’s wearing it halfway up. As usual, she’s a total knockout without even trying.

“You look great,” I say, turning the key in the ignition and firing up the engine of my pickup. “You always do.”

I put the truck in gear and pull out of the parking lot, a little on edge as we start heading for Westfield. Quinn and I start chatting, though, and any anxiety I have quickly evaporates. She’s just easy to talk to, easy to be around. Every time we get to chatting, I find myself wanting to know more and more about her.

The drive to Westfield isn’t a long one- only about fifteen minutes, give or take. I pull into the driveway of the packhouse, unbuckling my seatbelt and climbing out of the truck. By the time I make it around to the passenger side, Quinn’s already jumping down and swinging the door closed behind her.

“Nice place,” she breathes, taking in the packhouse sprawled in front of us. It’s about the same size as the Summervale packhouse where she grew up, though it’s much newer since we haven’t been in this territory that long.

“Thanks.” I start up the front walk, gesturing for Quinn to follow. She catches up and falls into step with me- and though most people would be nervous to meet the family of the person they’ve been hooking up with, she seems as cool as a cucumber; totally relaxed.

I turn the knob and push the front door open, the loud chatter from inside immediately flooding my eardrums. It’s always loud in my house- a biproduct of having three teenage sisters who love to talk. I step aside for Quinn to enter, following her through the threshold and closing the door behind us. My dad and sisters are all in the living room to the left of the foyer, sprawled out on the couches. At the sound of the door closing, all four of them turn to look in our direction- and the room falls silent.

Talk about awkward.

“Hi!” my youngest sister exclaims, jumping up from her seat, blue eyes laser-focused on Quinn. My other two sisters spring up, too, looking to Quinn with interest, and all three of them rush over to where we’re standing in the foyer.

“This is Quinn,” I say as they approach eagerly. “She’s not my girlfriend. Don’t make it weird.”

I turn to Quinn, an amused smile tugging at her lips. “These are my sisters, Juliet, Jenna and Jade,” I say, pointing to each one. “Mom clearly had a thing for J names.”

Quinn laughs. “Nice to meet you ladies.”

“You’re Anders’ daughter, right?” Dad asks from the other room, rising from his recliner.

“I am,” Quinn nods. “You must be Alpha Damian. I think we’ve met, but only in passing.”

Dad gives her a little nod, right as Mom hustles out of the kitchen with a large pan in her hands, setting it on the table in the dining room to the right of the foyer. The smell of her homemade lasagna hits my nose, making my mouth water.

“Oh, hello!” Mom greets, sliding her oven mitts off and taking in the sight of Quinn and I standing side by side.

“This is Quinn,” I supply, tossing a thumb in her direction.

“Nothis girlfriend,” my sister Jade adds. She’s the youngest of the three- fifteen years old and as sassy as they come.

“Supposedly,” Juliet scoffs, rolling her eyes. She’s the oldest at nineteen, and the most trouble for me. All of my sisters are pretty blondes, but she’s the prettiest- guys are constantly after her. I’ve made sure that the males in our pack know they shouldn’t try to pursue her unless they have a death wish.

“She’s Anders’ daughter,” Dad says to mom, and her mouth forms an ‘o’ in recognition.

“Glad you could join us, Quinn,” Mom says warmly. “Now c’mon, everybody sit down, let’s eat!” She waves us over, oven mitts in hand. “Jade, can you grab another plate for Quinn?”

Jade sighs like it’s a major inconvenience, but retreats into the kitchen nonetheless. She returns moments later with a place setting for Quinn, and we all settle around the table for dinner.

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