Page 70 of Heat Island
Even if my body is still humming from Cash’s touch.Even though I still feel the ghost of his fingers inside me, his mouth hot against my neck, his promises of what the others would do to me if given the chance.
I crack another crab leg with more force than necessary, scattering tiny bits of shell across the white tablecloth.
One week. That’s all this is. One week of pretending—of fun—and then it’s back to reality.
I just need to remember that, no matter how real it starts to feel.
“You should ask me to go with you to the flower market.”
I jolt in my seat, nearly dropping my fork. Lucas stands on the other side of the table, a lazy smile on his face as he slides into the seat Josie just vacated.
“How long have you been there?” I ask, my heart racing.
“Long enough to hear you need to go pick flowers.” He reaches over and steals a grilled prawn from my plate. “Ask me to go with you.”
I raise an eyebrow. “I don’t need anyone to go with me. I’m perfectly capable of choosing flowers by myself.”
“I know you are.” Lucas rolls his eyes, but there’s nothing condescending about it. “You’re capable of doing pretty much anything by yourself. That’s not the point.”
“What is the point then?” I take a sip of water, trying to appear nonchalant despite the butterflies in my stomach.
“The point,” he says, leaning forward with surprising intensity, “is that there’s nothing wrong with needing people. With asking for what you want.” His voice softens. “You don’t have to do everything alone, Trinity.”
“I don’t need help choosing flowers,” I insist, feeling oddly defensive.
“I know,” Lucas replies with a shrug. “But maybe you want company. Maybe you don’t want to be alone with yourthoughts after what happened on the trail with Cash.” His eyes twinkle. “Maybe you just enjoy my sparkling personality.”
I laugh, despite inwardly groaning at the fact that my make-out session with Cash is already public knowledge. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re stubborn.” He grins. “But I’m not going with you unless you ask. For real. No hints, no assumptions.”
I study his face, this alpha who somehow manages to be both playful and deeply perceptive. There’s something refreshing about his straightforwardness, his refusal to play games.
“Fine,” I say, setting down my fork. “Lucas, would you like to come to the flower market with me this afternoon?”
His entire face lights up. “I’d love to.” He stands and offers me his hand. “See? Was that so hard?”
As I take his hand, something loosens in my chest—a tightness I hadn’t even realized was there. Maybe he’s right. Maybe there is nothing wrong with simply asking for what I want.
Especially when I’m suddenly surrounded by four men who seem determined to give it to me.
TWENTY-FOUR
LUCAS
I watchTrinity negotiate with the flower vendor, mesmerized by her transformation. Gone is the hesitant woman who couldn’t ask for company to the market. In her place stands a powerhouse in business mode—shoulders squared, voice firm but pleasant, hands gesturing precisely as she haggles over orchid prices.
If she were wearing thigh-high boots and black leather with a whip in her hand instead of that sundress, the image wouldn’t feel any different. The vendor’s face shifts from stubborn to considering to acquiescent under her steady assault of charm and determination.
It’s the same voice she used when she first told Cash what she needed from us at the agency. The same commanding presence that made all of us immediately want to please her.
Cash would be on his knees in seconds if he heard her like this. Not because she’s an omega—because she’s Trinity.
That’s what fascinates me about her. How can one woman contain so many contradictions? Powerful yetvulnerable. Independent yet desperate for connection. Professional yet sensual. The hard-edged businesswoman and the soft-hearted sister.
She turns away from the vendor with a triumphant expression, a slight flush on her cheeks. She caught him trying to overcharge her by almost double the going rate, then talked him down to below market price while also getting him to throw in some exotic blooms I can’t even name.
When she spots me, her smile widens, and she holds up a sample arrangement.
