Page 85 of Pack Choice

“My mom used to bake a fresh batch of chocolate-chip cookies every day for her alphas and all us kids,” Guy says wistfully.

“Nobody makes cookies like an omega,” Chris adds.

Is this what they’re looking for? An omega who will pop out babies and make them cookies? How about the passion? How about the heat? How about the sex?

“What do you all do for fun?” I ask.

Chris does that chuckling thing again. “We don’t have a lot of time for fun. We’re focussed on growing the business. You can’t run a business as big as ours and not work late nights and early mornings.” I smile. I guess he’s completely forgotten who my brothers are. Who my father was.

“But,” Hans adds, “when we do have free time, we like to go hiking up in the mountains.”

“Do you camp?” I ask.

Chris snorts. “Not anymore. We’ve built a five-star cabin up in the mountains.”

“It has an amazing view,” Hans says. “You can see every star in the sky at nighttime.”

“My dad used to take me and my brothers camping when we were kids. I loved it.” I twist my fork around in my fingers. “I’d love to go again one day.”

“We’ll take you to our cabin then,” Hans says. “I think you’d love it.”

“You can bake us some cookies while we go out hiking,” Chris offers.

“Yeah,” I say, trying really hard not to roll my eyes.

Luckily, I’m saved by the waitress again, this time her arms laden with dishes. She serves all the alphas their food first, passing my spaghetti last.

“Thank you, Janey,” Jude says, speaking for the first time this evening. “This looks delicious as always.”

“I made sure the chef added extra parmesan, just like you like it.” She places her hand on his shoulder and he actually squeezes it.

Seriously? She flutters her eyelashes and they all flash those smiles at her. Are they sleeping with her? And if they are, why the hell did they arrange the date at this place?

I glance towards Silver, who is studying his phone and not watching me.

The alphas get stuck into their food and the smell of garlic and prawns makes my nose twitch. I push my spaghetti around my plate.

“Did you look over those workings Andrew did for the Maple account?” Guy asks Chris, which sets all four alphas off on a long conversation about tax implications and cash flow.

My mind wanders. Wanders straight back to the kitchen last night and Colt’s office this afternoon. Hell, it even wanders back to the street this evening.

I shouldn’t be thinking of those three alphas. I shouldn’t be entangling myself with them either. What the hell have I been thinking? Only, that’s the problem, I haven’t been thinking, I’ve been too busy feeling. Something that’s going to end in disaster.

I need to use my brain, engage it. Because a pack like this one would offer me security, a home of my own, a family.

I peer around at them all, passionately discussing numbers in a way I never could. I catch a glimpse of our futures together. Of countless meals where I sit quietly and they talk business. Or I’m home baking and they’re off hiking. Or I’m nursing five babies at once and they’re flirting with waitresses in restaurants.

Yep, Ford, Colt and River may not be what I need. But neither is Pack Sensible.

When our plates are cleared away and the waitress offers us dessert menus, I decline.

“I’m really full,” I tell her, even though I hardly ate any of my spaghetti, that garlicky prawn stench turning my stomach. “I couldn’t eat another mouthful.”

“Really?” Chris says, “the tiramisu here is the best.” He pats his now slightly bulging stomach. “I think I may have two.”

“You’re a brave man,” I say with a smile, “but I think I’ll leave you to it. You obviously have more business to discuss.”

Chris, Jude and Guy all nod, only Hans seems slightly crestfallen.