Page 19 of Tempted By the Alpha Outlaw

The room feels too small with him in it, his scent—dark chocolate and roasted coffee, rich and indulgent—curling around me and making it impossible to think straight. I guide him toward the back of the classroom, hyper-aware of how close he is behind me.

“It’s this one,” I say, stopping in front of the offending cabinet and gesturing to it. “The hinge is loose, and the door doesn’t sit right.”

Colt sets his toolbox down with a solid thunk and crouches in front of the cabinet. I should probably step back, give him space. Instead, I hover, my eyes drawn to the way his broad shoulders move under his shirt, the way his forearms flex as he pulls out a screwdriver and starts working.

“Doesn’t look too bad,” he murmurs, his voice low as he tightens the screws with practiced ease. His hands are sure, deliberate, like he knows exactly what he’s doing and doesn’t need to think twice about it. It’s utterly hypnotizing. Every movement of his fingers, the flex of his hands, the corded muscles in his forearms…

“You don’t have to stay,” he says, glancing up at me. “Unless you’re supervising.”

I fold my arms. “Maybe I am,” I say, the words coming out with more confidence than I feel. My heart’s racing, but I won’t let him see it.

His smirk deepens. “You’re the boss,” he teases, his voice low and rich. It’s the kind of tone that feels like it’s meant just for me, a secret I’m not sure I’m ready to share.

I shift on my feet, suddenly too warm, the intensity of his attention making it hard to breathe. “So,” I blurt, desperate to break the charged silence. “I actually…I thought I’d invite you to something.”

“Invite me?” he echoes, tilting his head in that slow, assessing way that makes me feel completely exposed. “To what?”

I clear my throat, trying to sound casual. “Story night,” I say, the words rushing out in my effort to fill the space between us. “It’s this thing we do every week. People tell stories—made up, real, doesn’t matter. The kids love it, and it’s…a good way for everyone to come together. You know, part of the pack and all that.”

Colt finishes up what he’s doing and stands, his broad shoulders seeming even broader now as he looms over me. I realize just how close we are, his scent swirling around me, making my thoughts fuzzy. My pulse quickens, and I force myself to meet his gaze, even though every nerve in my body is screaming that I shouldn’t.

“Sounds cozy,” he says, the word rolling off his tongue with an edge of suggestion that makes my knees weak. “You inviting me?”

I blink, thrown off by the way he says it—like he’s testing the waters, seeing how far he can push.

“It’s open to everyone,” I say quickly, my voice reedy. Then, because I feel like I need to justify myself, I add, “But…yeah. I mean, I thought it might be good for people to see you there. You know, get a sense of who you are. It might help them trust you more.”

“Trust me, huh?” he says, his voice dipping lower. He takes a small step closer, and I can feel the heat radiating off him. “And what about you? Do you trust me, Magnolia?”

The way he says my name—slow and deliberate,savoringit—makes my knees weak. I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. I’m too aware of how close he is, how his gaze seems to pin me in place. My pulse pounds in my ears, and all I can think about is how I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want him right now.

I’ve never even been kissed, but I want him to do all sorts of dirty things to me.

“I…” My voice falters, and I swallow hard, trying to pull myself together. “I think…everyone deserves a chance.”

“Didn’t answer my question,” he teases. “You asking me out, Magnolia?”

“No!” I squeak, too loud and too quick. My cheeks burn hotter than ever. I shake my head, trying to regain some semblance of control. “I mean…no. It’s not like that. It’s just…for the pack.”

“Sure,” he says, dragging the word out in a way that makes it clear he doesn’t believe me. He steps back, finally giving me room to breathe, but his gaze stays locked on mine. “For the pack.”

“Right,” I say.

Colt smirks, the kind of expression that says he knows exactly what he’s doing to me. He picks up his toolbox, his movements slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring the moment. “Okay,” he says. “I’d love to go with you.”

I let out a strangled sound in my throat, but he doesn’t notice–or, if he does, he doesn’t let it show. “I’ll walk you to the door,” I tell him.

Lucy has a canvas bag over her shoulder when we get back to the door, the dinosaur book stuffed haphazardly into it with about forty crayons and a gigantic stuffed rabbit. Colt chuckles and kneels in front of her again, holding out his hand for a fist bump.

“I’ll see ya around, kid,” he says. “You make sure to keep Miss Maggie in line, alright?”

Lucy giggles, suddenly shy. I click my tongue at her.

“Say goodbye, bumblebee,” I chide.

“Bye, Mr. Colt,” she says.

Colt stands, then locks eyes with me one more time.

---