Page 60 of In Doubt

Maya sinks her teeth through one of the Welsh cakes and closes her eyes, moaning loudly. “Oh my god, that tastes illegal.” She opens her eyes and flutters her eyelashes at me. She’s been flirting with me all afternoon and I’m not blind to how Sia comes to stand next to Levi and engages him in conversation. However, it’s clear as day to me that my packmates only have eyes for Giorgie. Their gazes drift to her frequently, watching as she moves along the table examining the food and selecting what she wants for her plate with more consideration than the others.

“You don’t seem quite as impressed by the food,” Aiden says to her.

“My parents ran an Italian restaurant. I ate like a princess growing up and my brother is a pretty amazing chef. I’m hard to impress,” she glances at me with a tease.

Aiden twerks an eyebrow and smirks at me. “Well, that’s a challenge?”

“It is,” I cross my arms over my chest and nod. “Try away, princess.”

Maya giggles but Giorgie frowns at me in consideration. Her gaze hovers across the food and then lands on the Welsh cakes the others devoured. She picks one up daintily between her finger and thumb and examines it before giving it a sniff.

“Hmmm,” she says, before snapping her teeth straight through the hard sponge and taking a big bite. Crumbs of the cake splinter off, some sticking to her plump, bottom lip, the others tumbling down her front. She chews, her eyes growing wider as she does.

“Well?” Aiden asks her. We’re all watching her, everyone waiting with bated breath for her judgement.

She nods as she continues to chew and then swallows. I can’t help a smug smile, but Jake was right, Giorgie Martinelli is hard to impress.

“Not bad,” she says finally.

“Tsk,” Aiden says, shaking his head and taking a cake himself. “Let me try.” He gobbles the whole thing quickly. “Mate, it’s fucking delicious!”

“I’m not saying it isn’t,” Giorgie protests.

“You think it could be better?” I ask seriously, walking around the table to stand beside her. I’m not used to constructive criticism when it comes to my food – my packmates are all too grateful I want to cook for them.

“I’d say it needs a tad more spice.”

“Omegas have very sensitive taste,” Levi says.

“And smell,” Giorgie says. “My mum was an omega, and she tasted every single dish before it went out. It’s why the food was so good. But it can be a hindrance too. If there’s a pair of smelly socks in a house I can smell them a mile away.”

“Any smelly socks here?” Sia asks her with a grin.

“No,” Giorgie says, her cheeks turning pink as she stares back down at her plate.

I catch Levi’s eye and I know he’s thinking the same thing as me.

What the hell can she smell that’s making her blush?

I lean against the table, crossing my arms over my chest.

“What else?” I ask. Behind me, I hear my packmates load their plates and then together with our guests they wander back outside, leaving me and Giorgie alone.

She hesitates, then takes another bite.

“Close your eyes,” I instruct her and she frowns. “It will help you taste better.”

She does as she’s told – surprising for an omega I’d been told is a brat – and the alpha in me stirs with excitement. I have to remind him that this is Jake’s girl, not mine. A girl who would never be interested in a pack.

As she chews, I take the opportunity to soak up her face. She has clear, soft-looking skin the colour of honey, full pink lips, and long dark eyelashes that fan across her apple shaped cheek bones.

“You’re staring at me,” she mutters with her eyes still closed.

“I’m waiting for your response. Because this is an old family recipe.”

“Oh!” Her eyes snap open and her hand covers her mouth catching more crumbs from her lips. “I didn’t mean to insult–”

“Ah, don’t worry. I’ve been experimenting with quite a few of the recipes, working out ways to improve them.”