Page 19 of Omega's Formula

He raises an eyebrow. “About what?”

“Your attire. This is a wedding, not a—” I gesture vaguely, unable to articulate exactly what his outfit suggests without admitting I’ve noticed how well those jeans fit.

“Not a what?” There’s a challenge in his voice, a dare in the tilt of his chin. He’s enjoying this, I realize. Enjoying making me uncomfortable in my own home.

“I expected at least a tie.”

Nolan’s laugh is short and humorless. “What? Did you want me to wear something white and fluffy? I’ve signed the contract and I’m not going to see you if I can help it as soon as the ceremony is over. Consider that my wedding gift to you. Can I come in, or are we doing this in the hallway?”

I step aside. Nolan walks past me, and his scent hits me even harder. I grit my teeth against it.

“Nice place,” Nolan says, looking around my penthouse with barely concealed disdain.

“You have to at least pretend to make an effort.”

He turns to face me, and for a moment, all I can see is the deep green of his eyes.

“I signed your paperwork. I showed up. That’s all the effort you’re getting.”

“The Bureau representative—”

“Will see exactly what he expects to see. A reluctant omega forced into a match he didn’t want.” Nolan’s smile is sharp enough to cut. “I don’t even have to act. Well done me.”

Anna chooses that moment to emerge from the kitchen, a glass of water in her hand that she nearly drops when she sees Nolan. Her eyes go wide, then narrow, and I recognize the look. It’s the same one that she gave me when she insisted I wear the rose.

“You must be Nolan.” She crosses the room and offers her hand. “I’m Anna. Erik’s sister. And you must be Nolan. It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

Nolan’s posture shifts slightly. Some of the hostility drains away as he shakes her hand. “Uh. Yeah. Likewise.”

“My brother is a jerk,” Anna says pleasantly, “but he’s right. Let’s get you something to wear.”

Nolan opens his mouth to protest, and I can see the refusal forming on his lips. The defensive anger that flares in his eyes.

“It’s for the ceremony,” she continues, steering him toward the guest room with a hand on his elbow. “To keep the Bureau happy. Then you can strip off whatever you like.”

Nolan’s eyes cut to me at that, and something electric passes between us. I do not need thoughts of him stripping off. I’ve had enough of them already.

“Fine,” he says. “Whatever gets this over with faster.”

They disappear down the hallway, and I stand alone, breathing in his scent which is wrapping around me like a vine, impossible to ignore.

I pour myself a whiskey and drink it too fast.

When they emerge, Nolan is wearing a suit from my college days, before I filled out across the shoulders, and it fits him almost perfectly. The dark blue brings out his eyes. The tie is slightly crooked, like he tied it himself and didn’t bother checking a mirror.

He looks uncomfortable. Self-conscious. And absolutely devastating. More than presentable.

“This good enough?” he asks, tugging at the collar.

“Perfect,” Anna says warmly. “Very handsome.”

Nolan’s cheeks flush slightly, and I have to look away before I do something stupid like agree with her or cross the room and straighten his tie just for an excuse to touch him.

“Better,” I say.

“Fuck off,” he replies.

“Are you ready?” Anna asks, looking between us.