Page 27 of Pack Favero

ZIRA:My kind of night. See you soon.

Without waiting for a reply, I go about getting ready, now completely at ease with my choices. I opt for a pair of skin-tight black leggings, a baggy, one-shouldered, cream sweater, and my trusty, white tennis shoes, piling my hair into a messy bun the moment I’m dressed and presentable. My make up is minimal, only a lick of eyeliner and a brush of mascara.

Leaving the bathroom after applying my makeup, I swipe my cell from the sink where I left it and go in search of my purse. When I can’t find it, lost among the clutter I’ve caused in search of clothes, I roll my eyes and tuck my phone into the waistband of my leggings, confident of its strength to keep it in place.

While I’m waiting the last remaining minutes for Barnes to arrive, I go about doing my best to tidy the mess of clothes I’ve created, tidying small mountains of pants and skirts and shirts that I’ve had for years. I should really go shopping or something, though I’m still determined to pay Barnes back for the medical bills even if he refuses to accept it.

Just as I’m putting my makeup away in the bag I keep in the bathroom, there’s a knock on the door before I hear, “Zira? It’s me. Am I allowed entry or will you claim I’m abducting you again?”

Snickering while blushing profusely, I call back, “Come on in. I’m not lying in a towel on the bathroom floor this time, so you’re good.”

I hear a low chuckle before the front door shuts and the sound of his footsteps reach my ears before he appears in the doorway of the bathroom. “Hey, you.”

“Hi,” I breathe, my heart damn near stalling in my chest when I look him over.

Wearing a tight black shirt and low-slung jeans with tears in the knees, Barnes Champion looks utterly delicious. It’s a vast difference from the slacks and white shirts I normally see him in, or the sleep pants I caught him in yesterday morning, but I’m quickly realizing Barnes can pull off any look. He has the face for anything, his high cheekbones, his narrow nose, and stubbled jaw something spectacular to behold. There’s no doubt that there’s Italian blood running through his veins, his skin a beautiful olive tone that suits him so well, his lips full and mesmerizing.

Running a hand through his dark, inky hair styled out of his face, he bites his lip as he eyes me in turn and the blush I felt burning my cheeks at the reminder of my overdramatizing expands over my nose and down my neck as I feel his gaze trail over every inch of my body before they return to my eyes. His scent washes over me as he does, bergamot and incense, warm, rich and spicy, and I inhale deeply as a soft smile tugs at his full lips. Releasing a breath, he declares, “You look beautiful, Freckles.”

I peer down at myself shyly, cheeks burning, and I shrug. “It’s what I usually wear when I’m not at work.”

When I look back up, Barnes is smiling at me, and I’m pretty sure my insides melt right there and then. “Zira, you could wear a potato sack and I’d think you were stunning. Trust me, you look beautiful in anything.”

Well, shit. Looks like I’m not getting through this night without blushing and perfuming like a novice virgin omega.

Chewing my lip while I try to get my body under control, which doesn’t work when Barnes’s smile turns into a knowing grin, I clear my throat and mutter, “Thank you. You’re looking pretty good yourself.”

“Got a little omega to impress now that she’s not doing her best to shut me out,” he teases, holding his hand out for me to take. “Are you ready to go, or do you need a little longer? I’m happy to wait, but I’m sure Alek will be calling in roughly five minutes if he doesn’t see that we’ve left.”

Laughing, I slide my hand into his, the warmth of his skin seeping into mine in the best way possible. My fingers flex against his, and I’m breathless when I answer, “All done.”

“Then let’s get you fed, huh?” he offers, tugging me with him as he leaves the bathroom and guides me out of the apartment, to his car, and drives the short distance to his house. All the while, he never releases my hand, and I’m not inclined to ask for it back, finding that I like his touch much more than I thought I would.

By the time we pull up to his beautiful home surrounded by trees and solitude, I’m drugged on Barnes’s scent and am so relaxed that there isn’t an ounce of nerves in my body once he switches off the ignition and releases my hand to allow me to climb out of the car.

The cool air is refreshing against my skin, but I instantly find myself missing the bubble of all things Barnes the moment I inhale and only take in the fresh air and earthy notes of the nature that surrounds Barnes’s home.

“Come on, you. Dinner should already be here,” he coaxes, holding his hand out once more, luring me to him like Thor and his trusty hammer.

My hand is in his moments later, and it feels right. So right, in fact, that I feel even stupider for wasting those six weeks being mad at him. Of course, that only brings back the ridiculousness I feel for not seeing the reasoning sooner and making it something it wasn’t, but alas, one can not change the past. Instead, I’m more than happy to focus on the here and now, and the possible future I could see myself having with this man.Possibly, maybe, perhaps including… the rest of his pack.

I might be getting ahead of myself there, though. We’ll see how things go.

We’re just at the top of the steps when Barnes’s words sink in, and I ask, “Dinner should be here? As in, you ordered in?”

The beautiful man flashes me a grin. “Sure did. Figured takeout food would be perfect for a cozy night in.”

Yep. There goes my heart, pitter-pattering in my chest as rapidly as the flutter of a hummingbird’s wings.

Still grinning, Barnes enters the house with my hand still clutched in his, and I’m greeted by laughter and a joyful argument between Alek and Lazarus the moment the door opens. A mingle of scents hits me just as quickly and, not for the first time, a sense of home envelops me at the first inhale of their combined scents. I try to wipe that thought away quickly, beyond certain that it’s too soon to be thinking such thoughts, but it lingers all the same. Because, despite the short time I’ve actually spent with them all, there’s no denying that I’ve found more comfort with them within that time than I have in the years before they appeared in my life.

For the first time in my life, I don’t feel like I have to be on guard all the time, expecting the worst out of someone like I had to during my childhood. I don’t have to wait for the other shoe to drop, waiting for true colors to appear, or act like someone I’m not to ensure they don’t leave. For the first time, when I enter a room of men, I don’t feel on edge or wary, I’m not nervous or scared, especially when the laughter dies down quickly and I’m met with smiles and winks and a very enthusiastic hug from the giant Viking whose hair is loose from braids and runs down past his shoulders in pale-blond waves.

“Thank god you’re here. I’m starving and Laz wouldn’t let me touch any of the food until you arrived,” Alek grumblesinto my shoulder, picking me off my damned feet as he hugs me tightly in greeting.

Laughing, I wrap my arms around his shoulders, drinking in his scent like a greedy omega. Floral and citrusy neroli and earthy basil fills my nose as I hug him back, the action coming like second nature, which is a new development for me. Although I’m a hugger by nature, I’ve grown up with only Mom and her failed relationships. I never once hugged those losers, so I’ve only ever had Mom to offer me comfort when I needed it. Since I had to grow up pretty fast, that came few and far between. So, I’m surprised when I hug Alek back, that it’s a good one. Tight squeezes, snug closeness, and a sense of sudden belonging.

“Don’t wait on my account. Help yourself,” I murmur into his shoulder, feeling a little emotional but wanting to move on quickly or else I risk the dreaded tears.

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