Page 86 of Dubious Match
“Go make your video, and I’ll work on our sandwiches,” I say. “The light is good in the backyard unless you’d prefer a ring light.”
“A ring light, listen to you,” she murmurs with a grin. “I need to change first. Ugh, at least my hair is clean.”
Chuckling, I shake my head. I really don’t think she sees what we do. Remy insisted on washing her hair in the tub the day she came back from the hospital, and we’ve been pampering her when we can over the last few days.
I adore her fire, the way she wants to help people, I just also want to erect a giant bubble around her as well. I’m working on it.
“Hollis, you’re perfect,” I insist. “No makeup, don’t change, just go do it so I can feed you.”
Her gaze changes from panicked to more heated, and I feel as if she wants to eat something else.
“Fine, I’ll go,” she says, her voice throaty and sexy as hell. I swear, she could read a grocery list to me, and I’d be rock hard the entire time.
Hollis leaves to go outside, and I open the security app on my phone to watch her in the courtyard. If she’s not in the house, despite the fence, one of us watches the cameras if we’re not with her.
I won’t make the same mistake I made at the gardens the day she was hurt. None of us will. This gives her the space she needs to not have us hovering around her, and we get some peace of mind.
Hollis doesn’t know about the cameras put in the backyard, but I doubt she’d care if she knew it was for security. I’m not watching her for any other reason.
Once I see that she’s curled up in the porch swing, I go back to cooking and checking on her. I’m an obsessive alpha. I need the people I care about to be happy, fed, and fucked. In that order.
Brice told me about their conversation the day our omega left the hospital. I had no idea she had a sister, or a twin at that. Someone who is literally the other half of her. I hate that she felt if her sister didn’t have a future, then neither should she.
That’s the wildest form of ‘you go, I go,’ solidarity that I’ve ever heard. Still, knowing the loyalty Hollis has for people, I can understand the way she holds herself away still. Getting tooattached or too happy isn’t supposed to happen because she misses the sister she had.
Scent matches drastically change things. Hollis could lose her mind in her next heat based on all of the things she’s not saying. I did some research to find out more about the bonds and matching, and once they’re found, it's end game without rejecting the other pack or omega.
There’s no way in hell I’d ever reject her. My pack mates and I are completely enamored with Hollis. We’re going down hard, especially after the last few days of being with her more.
Huffing out a breath, I make sure the bacon is crispy, the bread is perfectly toasted before adding cheese, and then put together the sandwich with a slice of tomato.
It’s a perfectly prepared adult grilled cheese sandwich. I’m just sliding the plates onto the island as Hollis reappears, my phone screen hidden in between canisters on the counter.
“All good?” I ask.
“Yes,” she says, nodding. Her brows knit together, and I feel my stomach twist in worry. I won’t be able to eat until I hear what’s wrong.
“Please, tell me more,” I drawl, making her lips twitch as I push her food in front of her.
“I got another email from Emilia from her lawyer, asking me to cease and desist from having any more dating events,” she says. “I have to call my lawyer to counter respond. This is my job. I’m not going to stop doing it because she doesn’t want me to. Think about it. If she can get this to stick, she could go for Cupid’s Call too and?—”
Hollis gasps in a breath as she spins out, and I shake my head, moving over to pick her up and place her on the island so we’re eye to eye.
“She won’t,” I growl. “The bitch can try, but she won’t be able to make any of that stick. Now, how long have you been in business?”
I know damn well how long, I just want to hear it.
“Ten years,” she mumbles.
“Again but louder, or I’ll take you over my knee, Baby Girl,” I say.
Her cheeks heat as she gazes at me and yells, “Ten years!”
“She’s not taking anything else from you,” I murmur, kissing her hard. It’s slow, all consuming, and has her moaning onto my mouth. “Eat for me so I know that your stomach isn’t going to grumble as you talk to your lawyer, and then go knock that bitch down a peg or two.”
“Okay,” she rasps. “I really fucking hate her.”
“So remind her of that with your presence, Baby Girl,” I say. “Shine brighter, take away her control, and shit in her oatmeal.”
