Page 10 of Building My Pack

After George, I assumed that it would be a long while before I ever entertained thoughts of having another man in my house. Let alone an alpha one. Though, I must admit, watching Santiago claim one of the barstools at my kitchen island while waiting for me to find the corkscrew to open our bottle of wine, fills me with more emotion than George did in his last several months living here. They say when you’ve been with someone for a while and live with them, sometimes that everyday life gets monotonous, and you simply go through the motions of life instead of actually living. The man hasn’t done anything other than take a seat and I can already feel a difference within the room. Yesterday, I’d spent the entire day cleaning and ordering new décor online because the thought of living here for one more second the way that it is got underneath my skin and made it itch. Now, with Santiago’s presence filling the space, it’s bearable to the point that I wonder if I wasn’t imagining it all.

“If you want to go get ready, I’ll see if I can find that for you,” he offers, his voice a heck of a lot closer than it was when I turned around. Casting a glance over my shoulder confirms my suspicions that he’s within touching distance. Any normal woman finding herself in this predicament with someone like Santiago, it’d be all she wrote. However, I am everything less than normal, so what do I do? I take the opportunity to escape and all but run for the stairs.

I can always claim it was a lapse in sanity later if I need to, but I do as he says, leaving him in the kitchen to fend for himself as I head off to get dressed. Foregoing a shower as to not make him wait longer, I dig through my closet to find something that doesn't scream ‘realtor’ or ‘second-grade school teacher.’ It takes a few minutes, but I finally settle on a little, black, halter-style dress that I wore to my cousin's wedding two years ago. The soft material has a tiny string that loops through the top front and connects in the back. Cinching at my waist, it leaves the dress loose at the top and flowy all the way down to where it stops at the lower thigh. At least that's how it's supposed to fit and did when I wore it the only other time. Luckily, I haven't gained nor lost too much for it to make a difference, I notice slipping it on after removing my other one. Taking more than a few seconds to decide between black flats and a pair of wedges, I decide on neither and reach further in and grab the four-inch platform heels. It's a risky move, considering I might've had one too many drinks the last time I wore them and almost broke my neck. They just made me feel sexy, and I need a little bit of that confidence tonight.

Santiago Cooper, in all his handsome glory, is in my house right now. Reality won't sink in, no matter how many times I repeat it. George had always made it a thing to point out that even if I had wanted an alpha in my life that none of them would want me. One day, it might have been my weight. The next, it might've been because I'm too career focused and driven.A man never wants to be outshined in success,he'd say. One time, it was even because I'm adeceitful omega, lying and pretending to be a beta.Until the moment Santiago showed up with Kennedy in tow to the award ceremony, I hadn't thought it would ever be an issue anyway, because I'd been dead set on living as a beta for the rest of my life, happy and content. Now, just being near Santiago and that summer-rainstorm scent is driving me crazy and making me question my prejudice against alphas. Surely, it can't be all as bad as my parents made it out to be growing up. Honestly,anythingis better than George.

Shaking my head slightly to get rid of the thoughts of him and forcing them toward the man waiting downstairs actually has the opposite effect I was going for. My nerves get the best of me and cause shaky hands as I'm relining my eyes and fixing my makeup. Even slipping on the heels with all of their supposed magical powers of confidence, I still feel inadequate compared to Santiago Cooper. Although, if there's one thing in this world that I amnot,it's a coward. So, as much as I want to call down the stairs that I'm feeling sick and that we should reschedule, I don't. Giving myself a once over in the stand-up mirror in my room, I take a deep, calming breath and let it out before grabbing a small, clutch purse for my keys and phone on the way out the door.

Saturday night, I'd felt both Kennedy and Santiago's stares and heated looks, providing me with a first-hand experience of squirming under their scrutiny. Which has me feeling prepared for facing him at the bottom of the steps, but boy, am I wrong. He's standing with his back to me, studying the sunset painting on the wall but turns as he hears me coming down. His eyes widen for a fraction of a second before they drop to my toes and work their way slowly up to my own. It might just be the flush I feel starting beneath my skin, but I can swear there's something sinful in his expression, making me want to clench my thighs together.

Then he speaks in a huskier tone than before as I make it down to him. With that one-sided smirk, he praises, "You look utterly delectable."

Choking down the awkwardness that threatens to overtake his serious compliment, I reply with a quick, "Thanks." Walking over to grab my soft, grey cardigan from the coat closet, I can hear him following, but I don't expect him to press flush against my back as a hand slips around my belly. When his nose meets the shell of my ear, my head tilts automatically to give him better access, and I have to fight the whimper that tries to slip from my throat as my belly grows tight. In his nearness, the sound of him literally breathing me in is undeniable. It causes another rush of warmth in the deepest places in my body.

Then he's gone, abandoning me to the puddle he's left me in with no way to appease the ache now burning in my center. Later, when I look back on this moment, the only thing I'll be able to remember is his knowing, lopsided grin as he shows me out of my own house, remembering to lock it when I don't and then opening his car door for me. I'm too caught up in the feelings he's ignited and wondering if this is what it's always like with an alpha. There was spice with George at first, too, but comparing them would be like a cucumber versus the hottest pepper imaginable. Living life as a beta for so long, I can't help but wonder if maybe I'm looking more into this than I should. It was the whole reason I chose a long time ago not to out myself as an omega. Not wanting to have relationships based solely on designations. Maybe it's Santiago as a person and not his alpha that has me so enthralled.

Then how do you explain Kennedy?that inner voice asks. Snorting internally, I couldn't imagine anyone in their right mind tonotbe attracted to Kennedy Kane. Embarrassingly enough, between him and Santiago, it wouldn't take much for them to simply walk into a room and have panties dropping. Mine for sure at least.

Obviously sensing that my mind is elsewhere, Santiago lets the soft music fill the silence of the car on the way to the restaurant. Or maybe he's had a day like mine full of social politeness and conversation and is simply enjoying not having to make small talk. I try my best not to look at him to give away the thoughts running through my mind, but that turns into a major fail. Especially as he catches me twice and that left side of his mouth pulls up, which does absolutely nothing less than make me want him even more. I find myself wondering what his lips feel like when they're not running ninety miles a minute and dripping with arrogance. Which can only be described as a no good, very bad idea. Not just because this is a first date kind of thing either.

Arriving at the restaurant, he slips his sleek car into a parking space, surprising the heck out of me that we aren't at a place that does valet. I muse over the fact that he brought me to a place that doesn't deal with a higher-end clientele as he walks around to open my door. Maybe I've had him pegged all wrong as the cocky panty dropper. I can't help but smile as he offers a hand to help me out before looping it through his arm for our walk inside. He doesn't let me have it back, either, even as he opens the door and speaks with the hostess. It isn't until he's pulling out my chair that I get it back.

He takes his seat across from me and leans back expectantly with a slight narrowing of his eyes and small smile. "Why, Bryce, did I surprise you yet again tonight?"

"Actually, yes," I tell him. "I figured you had somewhere a little fancier in mind. Isn't that where you normally wine and dine?"

This earns me a full-blown grin. "I'd ask if you were keeping tabs on me, but I think we both know you aren't. Maybe my sales, but not in the way I'm wanting you to anyway. However, if you'd rather be ‘wined and dined’just say the word and we'll leave right now."

I know he's teasing, but there's also a seriousness underlying his tone. There's no doubt in my mind that he would do exactly as he says at my word, and it starts a tingle right behind my belly button.

"Can I get you something to drink while you look over the menu?" the waiter comes up and asks, handing them to us.

Santiago looks at me expectantly, obviously giving me the choice to stay or go. Like I reminded myself at the house, I'm no coward and don't crack under pressure.

"I'll have a glass of your chardonnay and a water, please," I say with a quick glance up at him before dropping my eyes back to the man in front of me.

He spares a glance up at him with his answer as well, "I'll have what the lady is having."

"Yessir," the waiter replies. "Take your time looking over the menu. I'll be back in a few with your drinks."

"Thank you," he tells him.

Dropping my attention to the menu, I can still feel his gaze directed my way and it makes my cheeks flush.

"It's rude to stare, you know?" I tease, keeping my attention on the menu.

His chuckle is deep, and the sound has a direct line straight to my core, making me want to shift in my seat to ease some of the ache building there. "My apologies. I just can't seem to take my eyes off you tonight. I'm really glad you decided to join me for dinner."

Giving up pretending to actually read the menu, I relax back in my chair. "Whydidyou track me to the open house tonight to invite me out? Is this some kind of game where you ask me to let you win next year?"

The waiter makes it back to our table to set down our wine just as Santiago's head tilts back with his laugh. It must be contagious because I'm not the only one whose face breaks out into a grin. I don't think the waiter can help himself. He's still smiling as he takes our order and walks away.

Santiago swirls the wine in his glass and takes a sip before responding, "I knew there was something special about you. Told Kennedy that Saturday before he met you. Don't think that being cheeky is going to scare me off. I like my woman with sass."

Put me in a room full of potential buyers or sellers any day of the week and I'll not be as flustered as this one man makes me with his words and compliments. Ignoring the last bit, I steer the conversation away from me and toward Kennedy in hopes that it'll distract him long enough for the pink in my cheeks to settle down. "How long have you known him?"

"Who? Kennedy?" he asks. At my nod, he adds, "For years now, even though it seems a lot longer."

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