Page 72 of Scent of Home

“Erin, I found you at last.”

Dezzi is fatter than I remember him. He’s still very, very attractive, but I don’t see that now. All I see is an alpha who thought fucking me would help get him a partner position. I stare at him, and there is nothing there. No attraction, none of the excitement or the affection. It’s gone. I find his smile smarmy and his looks average compared to Locke, Bray, Shane, and Finn. His clothes are three quarters of his appeal. There’s nothing left, not anger, none of the rage. I feel nothing but irritation that he’s here near my omega.

“How's the wife? Or ex-wife,” I say with a flash of teeth and temper.

The fucker pouts, folding his arms over his expensive grey suit. His slicked back hair isn’t even moving in the breeze.

“Don’t be like that, Erin. Petty doesn’t look good on you.” He doesn’t even look at Locke, not until the scent of omega floods the surrounding air.

His eyes gleam, but I snarl, almost jumping between the two of them. I grab Dezzi’s arm and drag him away from Locke, who is standing there staring at me, absolutely rigid with rage.

I’m a bit nervous over how deadly he looks right now.

“What are you doing here?” I hiss at my ex.

“I got your message.”

“What message?” I snap, confused but keeping an eye on Locke, who is vibrating with fury.

Dezzi puts a hand on my shoulder suddenly and leans in close, but I shove hard at his chest. It doesn’t move him at all, and all I can see is red.

“Don’t touch me!” I hiss at him.

“DON’T TOUCH HER!” Locke snarls with so much venom that I almost forget myself. What the fuck?

“What? You got an omega? He’s yours? Well, we can share.” He smiles at Locke, and I mentally hope Bray, Finn, and Shane stay elsewhere for the next few minutes. Otherwise, I’ll be brushing up on getting murderers off.

Locke snarls louder.

I reach out and wrap my hand around Locke’s wrist. His blue-green eyes look like chips of gemstones. His face is an icy mask. I’ve never seen anyone look so stunningly hot. Not the time, Erin.

“I didn’t send you a message,” I say loudly. “Dezzi, I told you we were done four months ago when your wife came to me to ask me politely to stop sleeping with you.”

“Oh, don’t bring that up.” Dezzi heaves an exasperated sigh. “Here we go, again.”

I let out my own growl at his cynical groan. “Can you go back into the hole you came out of and stay there?”

“You sent the damn message. The invitation for a week of sex. To get back together.”

I scoff. “I would never, ever have sent that. Listen carefully, I helped your wife screw you, and it’s on my damn highlight reel.”

“Yes, and I’m very mad about that, but-”

“There’s no but!” I screech. “I wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole. I wouldn’t touch you if you were the last dick on Earth. Go away! I didn’t send the message. I don’t want you.”

Dezzi glares at me. “The only reason I’m here is because you’re such a superb fuck, Erin. Our bosses want you to apologise, they have a big case-”

Locke lunges, breaking out of my hold and grabbing my ex’s shirt. They’re toe to toe, but Dezzi starts to laugh.

Locke looks at him and leans in close to whisper.

The alpha’s expression goes slack, his chin trembles, and finally, the light in his eyes fades. He nods his head sharply, looks in my direction.

“Sorry, Erin. I promise I will never see you again.” His voice comes out strained like he’s fighting himself.

Locke lets go of his shirt and glares until the alpha turns and runs, actually runs, away.

“What did you do?” I ask, stunned stupid.

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