Page 74 of Pack Scratch Fever
I step inside his home and am immediately shocked as I face him.
This Poe is different.
He’s well rested, which is obvious from the lack of circles under his eyes and the fondness in his expression. He’s shaved, his stubble gone, and his rich brown hair is styled slightly messy. His navy blue button-up shirt brings out the grey in his eyes, and the dark jeans are tailored to his muscular legs perfectly.
It’s ridiculous.
No one should look like him.
His herbal scent is familiar and welcoming as well. I didn’t even realize how much I missed it until I inhaled it again.
That’s what a scent match is.
“You look…beautiful,” he breathes, clearing his throat. His eyes rake over my form, and my inner Omega preens at the attention.
I can’t help but smile. “You clean up well,” I tease. “Did you finally get some sleep?”
He lets out a slowwhooshof air and rakes a hand through his hair. “I did,” he chuckles. “It feels good to finally have a full day off.” He reaches out with his other hand. “You never got a tour last time,” he says, his throat bobbing as he swallows. “Would you like one?”
My smile turns into a full grin. “Who are you and what have you done with Poe?” I demand, taking his hand. It’s warm and large in mine, and I try not to let my mind wander with thoughts of what he coulddowith that hand.
“I’m who you should have met the first day I walked into the rescue,” he admits. “And who you should have met the night you came over to trap all those cats. I want to start over, if you’ll let me.”
His expression is so earnest and vulnerable that I have no choice but to nod.
“Sure,” I murmur. “You can have your second chance.”
Grumpy, irritated Poe is gone. I’m standing with an Alpha that exudes strength andgentleness as he leads me through the packhouse.
It’s roomier than I expected. I had already seen the front room, kitchen, and part of the backyard, but there’s also a home theater, game room, and office.
The place is massive.
“You have your own bedrooms?” I ask after we end up back in the kitchen. I hop onto a bar stool to sit at the marble island, and he joins me.
“One guestroom as well,” he adds, his eyes darkening with something I can’t place. But I don’t turn away from his gaze; I meet it with my own.
“So, what I’m hearing is that the cat colony outside always has a place to stayinside.”
He laughs softly and shakes his head. “Sure.”
“You would hate my apartment,” I sigh. “My bedroom is like a quarter of the size of your game room.”
His eyes watch me fondly. “Apartments are fine. I lived in apartments for years before we had the packhouse.” His gaze falls on my lips. “Do you want anything to drink?”
“Just water,” I say. “Did you need any help cooking?”
Poe looks bewildered. “You shouldn’t have to help me make dinner for you.”
I can’t help but chuckle at his scandalized face. “I know. But it’s either you cook and I watch awkwardly, or I get to hang out with you, and we do it together.”
It’s heartwarming that he wants to cook for me.
What have you done to deserve this? Why are you relaxing when you’re blowing through the money that was saved for you for college?
That awful grating voice comes back into my mind, so different from my inner Omega.
Thankfully, Poe doesn’t hear the self-doubts threatening to eat me alive.
