Chapter Three

Mia hid.

She’d love to pretend she was just very busy, that she’d found things that required her immediate attention, but that would have been a lie.

Instead, after Hart’s comment and her embarrassing reaction, she’d made a stupid excuse—she couldn’t even remember what she’d said, other than she might have mentioned needing to feed a cat…and she didn’t own a pet cat—and she’d fled the table.

She hadn’t even finished dinner let alone helped to clean up. Guilt was the last thing on her mind, though.

They’d decided to say what they had, to call her out and scare her off. It seemed a fitting punishment for them to clean up from dinner on their own.

Serves them right.

Amazingly, they’d left her alone the rest of the night. Whether that was out of guilt or self-preservation—since after embarrassment faded, she’d probably just end up angry—she didn’t know. She took the undisturbed night as a win.

Though, sleep was another matter.

She’d gone to bed horny before. Hell, she’d endured heats in the past, ones where she didn’t use sedatives to ease her, so she was no stranger to clawing need.

Still, lying in that bed, her body thrumming with unsated energy, had only made the next day that much worse.

Two weeks like this?

She had no idea how she’d survive such a thing. Already, on night one, they’d managed to overwhelm her.

And what the hell was that about? Six years and they’d never spoken to her like that, never called her out on what it seemed they’d already been well aware of.

So why now? Why did they decide this was the best time to address the desires she’d thought she’d hidden under a mask of general indifference?

When no answers came, she stared out of the large window that overlooked the lake the cabin sat on. A pier ran out, with a small pontoon boat tied to the dock. The water was peaceful, with gentle rippling waves that covered the surface.

It almost made her forget about the issues, about the three alphas downstairs who she’d have to face.

I could just sneak out. Start a new life, find a new job.

“You hate moving.”

Mia didn’t need to even turn around to know who stood there. Shepard’s voice had imprinted itself on her from the first time she’d met him, that sarcasm less annoying than it should have been.

When she turned to find him leaning against the doorway to her room, his arms crossed, he offered a smile and continued. “I know that look. It’s your ‘I’m going to run away’ look.”

“I can’t believe I think that often enough to have a look for it.”

“You do it every time you have to call that old Mrs. Blanche.”

Mia didn’t bother to suppress the shudder at the thought of the woman who had dressed her down more than a few times. She liked to bemoan Mia’s lack of a man like some great national travesty while taking the opportunity to both suggest different ways Mia could become more attractive and mention she had a few grandsons who Mia might want to meet.

“They say the mean ones never die, and I’m convinced she’ll outlive us all.”

Shepard laughed and pushed off the wall. He walked with fluid steps, a confidence that she’d always envied. It had to be an alpha thing because she’d seen that same walk in them all. They used a gait that seemed to worry about nothing, as if they were at the top of the food chain and they knew it.

They are, aren’t they?

Alphas tended to get what they wanted. Increased testosterone, Mia had heard. It made as much sense as anything else, though it didn’t make it any fairer.

“You missed breakfast,” he said.

“I never eat breakfast.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t even come down for coffee. That’s when I realized I needed to come carry your ass down, or you’d be stubborn enough to die up here rather than face us.”

I do really miss coffee.

And yet Shepard was right. She’d forgone her morning cup just because she couldn’t imagine what exactly she could say to the three of them after last night.

They’d taken away the biggest barrier she’d used as an excuse before, that they only fucked omegas. That had made it easy to ignore them—or to try—because she wasn’t their type. Or, at least, she pretended not to be.

Of course, the way Hart had said it annoyed her, as if sleeping with a beta was some concession they’d be willing to endure, as though being with her would be something they’d suffer through if they had to.

Or maybe I’m just using that as an excuse to stay mad.

“Look, Mia, you don’t need to stay cooped up in here. We can behave.”

Mia rubbed her hands together, needing to do something to help burn off all the nerves inside her. “You guys can’t talk like that,” she finally said. At Shepard’s lifted eyebrow, she explained. “We are coworkers.”

“We’re friends too. I know you like to pretend like we aren’t, but we spend way too much time together to not be friends.”

“Well, friends don’t talk to each other like that,” she snapped.

Shepard lifted his hands as if to placate her. “I get it. You’re putting down your limits. Loud and clear. Message received.”

Mia let out a hard breath, the action blowing a strand of her long brown hair from her face. “We’ve managed for six years and I thought we had a good understanding.”

“And you don’t like having facts thrown in your face. No, don’t argue, it’s my turn. I’m not being mean—just laying it all out. You might be interested but for whatever reason is rattling around in your head, you don’t want to pursue it or even have it mentioned. That’s fine. We’ve ignored it for years. We can ignore it again.”

That sort of honesty scratched at Mia. She hated the idea that they knew—had known all along—about her attraction. Had all her work been in vain? The perfumes, the scents, the vacant looks even when one would walk in shirtless after a run?

She’d spent so long trying to keep secret something they already knew.

Well, they don’t know it all.

“So, will you stop hiding already?”

“Fine,” she said as she tried to build up her defenses. As little as Mia cared for them realizing she liked them, she was even less fond of them thinking she was avoiding them.

They might know she wanted them, but they could never know her other secret.

* * * *

“I don’t like water,” Mia repeated even as Shepard tried to pry the life jacket from her clutching hands.

“The lake isn’t that deep, and it’s small enough you can see the shore from dead center.”

“Please don’t use the word ‘dead’.” Her death-grip on the flotation device remained firm.

Shepard rubbed his fingers against the bridge of his nose while Dax and Hart got the small pontoon boat ready to go out.

Mia had assumed at first that—since she disliked boats and water and everything of that sort—she would get a little privacy when the alphas went out.

She really needed that after two days of such close quarters. She’d planned to relieve the tension inside her—she’d been smart enough to pack her favorite vibrator—and open all the windows to air out the cabin.

Instead, Shepard had dragged her outside and explained that they didn’t like the idea of leaving her all alone. Damn overprotective alphas.

Still, the thought of getting on the boat, of floating over water she couldn’t see down into, had her resisting even as Shepard pulled softly at her hand.

“You have a life jacket, so you’re safe,” Shepard repeated.

Which only made her think about why life jackets were needed. Because of the whole drowning and dying thing.

“If we were made to be out in water, we’d have gills,” Mia snapped.

Shepard threw his arms up before calling over his shoulder to the others that he had run out of ideas.

Hart jumped off the boat and onto the pier, then walked to where Mia stood on nice, solid ground.

She expected him to use that compelling voice of his, to explain it all in a way so it made perfect sense.

The man was manipulative enough to convince anyone of anything.

Instead, he caught her chin in his warm fingers and tilted her face up toward him. The touch was gentle, intimate, and perhaps the first time he’d really touched her. “What are you so afraid of?”

“Drowning. Alligators. The Loch Ness monster.” Mia’s voice was soft and breathless.

“Well, the life jacket takes care of drowning, doesn’t it? There aren’t any alligators here, and I think the Loch Ness monster stays in Ireland.” He delivered the last one with so little feeling, one could almost miss the joke.

“I don’t like water,” Mia said in a whispered plea.

Hart stroked his thumb along her jaw, and as much as she hated it, she relaxed. “You like control, Mia, and you don’t feel in control on a boat. You should know that we would never put you in danger, though. Trust me.”

When he put it like that…

No matter how annoyed she might get with the three of them, he did make her feel safer than she ever had in her life.

Well, physically safer, at least. She didn’t trust them as far as she could throw the heavy alphas when it came to her heart, but they’d never risk her well-being.

So Mia nodded, because refusing him seemed impossible.

He leaned in, the movement so subtle and so brief she almost missed it. As soon as it happened, he blinked slowly and pulled his fingers from her jawline. Did he almost kiss me?

Twenty minutes later, Mia had the life jacket buckled around her with another in her arms as she sat in the center of the boat.

Seats lined the outside edge, but those would allow her to look over the side and see the water.

Nope. I’ll stay right here where I can’t see anything.

The alphas stepped around her as they moved, clearly comfortable on the boat. Dax gave her a water bottle, Shepard manned the controls, and Hart sat at the back of the pontoon.

Hart hadn’t looked her way since he’d gotten her to agree. He’d stepped backward as if he didn’t know how to behave, how to interact with her anymore.

It felt strange, but she forced herself to admit it was for the best. She’d have never agreed to get on that boat if it weren’t for him. Somehow his taking control thing had left her spineless, and that wasn’t a feeling she enjoyed.

Or maybe I enjoy it way too much.

Either way, him staying back there, as far away as possible, was the best for everyone involved.

“Come here.” Shepard stuck his hand into her line of sight.

Mia batted the hand away. “I am perfectly fine where I am.”

“I’m going to help.”

“Unless you can you make water into land, I doubt it.”

Shepard crouched down, his weight on the balls of his feet. “Just try it, huh? How much worse can this get?”

She opened her mouth to remind him of all the ways it could, in fact, get worse, but Shepard grabbed her hand and tugged her to her feet. She would have fought the motion, but that would require pulling and, in her mind, she pictured herself toppling backward and over the side. Not to mention, that same swaying Shepard didn’t seem to notice made her unsteady.

It meant she wrapped her arms around Shepard like he was a buoy, clutching him tightly enough it was a miracle he could still breathe. She abandoned the second life jacket. If she fell in and drowned, she was taking him down with her.

He only chuckled, a soft sound before wrapping an arm around her and walking her toward the front of the boat. Each step closer to the edge had Mia breathing a little faster and burrowing deeper against him.

At any other time, she might have enjoyed the contact. They’d always had strict bubbles of personal space, which meant she’d never been treated to this sort of sensation.

Shepard’s body was firm and lean beneath the casual shirt and jeans combo he wore. The cotton of his shirt warmed her cheek, and she breathed in his scent. Something that normally made her anxious eased her right then, her mind already panicked. It seemed she found the water infinitely scarier than the alphas.

All too soon, he extracted himself from her death grip, moving quickly even as Mia tried to python her way back around him.

He sat in the driver’s seat, pulled her into his lap and wrapped an arm around her waist like some seatbelt and pointed at the console in front of them. “This is the wheel. It works like a car.”

She frowned and tried to look back at him. “Are you really giving me a lesson? How is that supposed to help?”

“You like control. You don’t understand boats, you aren’t driving, and that stresses you out. I figured if you understood how this one worked, you might relax.”

“And I need to be in your lap for this?”

“Well, with the way you were clinging to me, I didn’t think you’d mind.” His warm breath slid across the back of her neck like some forbidden caress. “And since you have the sea-legs of a drunken foal, this seemed safer. Now, pay attention.” He pointed again, going over each dial and control.

To Mia’s shock, she began to relax. The big, scary boat didn’t feel so frightening anymore. She started to view it like she did a car, and when he accelerated, when the wind blew through her hair, she even laughed. She pictured the fan in the back, beneath the water, applying force to move the boat forward, could see how the metal tanks on the sides, full of air, kept it afloat.

This thing that had been terrifying, Shepard had made normal.

And as her nerves eased, as she listened to Shepard explain it all in his deep voice, she found their closeness more difficult to ignore. His strong arm held her against him tightly, and his hand hung over her hip, his fingers tracing there over her clothing in a mindless way.

She tried to think about something else. Rotten meat. Her grandmother that time she’d walked in on her naked. Anything other than the far-too-sexy alpha whose lap she sat in.

Try as she might, however, it was impossible to ignore. His chest was solid behind her, and his heart beat a steady rhythm.

It made her wonder what it would feel like if she could make it race.

Did the other women do that? Those omegas who they took to bed, the ones they lavished with attention a single time before casting them aside. Did Shepard lose that sarcastic edge, that ‘above it all’ attitude he had? Did they make him let out deep groans, ones pulled from his chest because he couldn’t help it?

Thinking about the other women—and there had been so many of them—shook Mia loose of her pointless fantasy.

First of all, she didn’t want them. Secondly, she couldn’t have them. Third, even if she did want them and could have them, what did she have to offer a trio of alphas who had fucked their way through every of-age omega in their city?

That doused the simmering flames inside her, and whether it was his lesson or her sudden reminder that she didn’t want to be another name on their incredible long list, she pushed off his lap herself.

Shepard didn’t tug her back. Instead, he only stared up at her. “All done with the lesson?”

“I’m all done sitting in your lap.”

“I’ve heard my lap is a rather comfortable place.”

Mia gave him her best withering glare, the sort that was intended to shrivel up both his ego and his dick. “It probably is for all those many, many, many women you get into bed. Unfortunately, I have higher standards.”

She turned her back on him to walk away, despite the small boat keeping her from going far.

Any space was good.

She needed to get her head on straight before she did something monumentally stupid—like falling for them any further.

* * * *

Mia would never admit it, but the lesson from Shepard had helped. It was partly that she understood the boat better, but also that she’d realized once she wasn’t stressing out—meaning the time being in his lap had been far more interesting—she’d relaxed.

That told her she didn’t need to stress. She was fully capable of tolerating or even enjoying her time on the boat.

And, of course, there was the little fact that she couldn’t exactly go anywhere else. Until they docked, she was stuck. Even the alphas were less scary than whatever was living in the water beneath them, so she wasn’t about to dive overboard and swim.

However, about two hours into their little outing, she’d gotten comfortable enough to sit on the back of the boat, her legs crossed because she was not about to stick her feet in.

Horrific thoughts of large prehistoric creatures grabbing her legs and dragging her to the murky depths kept playing in her head.

The sun beat on her, but a hat Dax had pulled onto her without asking helped, and she’d lathered on the sunscreen as well. She’d dressed in a pair of shorts and a loose tank top, her suit on underneath, though her life jacket remained firmly in place.

Dax plopped down beside her with the same general lack of grace he normally had. He’d removed his shirt, something Mia tried very hard to ignore, and he held out a bottle of unsweetened tea, the brand she always brought into work with her.

It was those things that made it even harder to set boundaries with them. They were always doing something that unsettled her, something that showed they paid more attention to her than she’d realized.

Once Dax handed it off, he twisted to catch the beer Shepard had tossed. Hart sat in the same seat he’d been in earlier, and Shepard took a spot on the floor to her other side.

It put Hart behind her and the other two alphas beside her.

Talk about surrounded…

“My sister wants us to come for Christmas,” Shepard said.

“She just wants to try and set us up with another friend,” Hart answered, a slight groan to his words.

Mia turned to offer a glare at Hart, which was entirely stupid because it wasn’t him trying to do the set up. Still, she found she didn’t care for the idea of anyone dangling some girl in front of the three.

Dax poked her side, the sharp jab combined with a smirk when she turned. “Don’t get jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.” She swatted Dax’s hand when he reached out as if to poke her again.

“Of course you are. Just like whenever one of our groupies shows up,” Shepard said.

“That isn’t jealousy. I’m just not supposed to be your one-night-stand receptionist.” She rolled her head, a tension in her neck from not sleeping well. She must have tweaked it.

A strong hand pressed against her shoulder, and Mia jumped.

“Relax.” Hart’s voice was deep, but when she turned to meet his golden eyes, it was even worse. Something about him always made her melt.

“What are you doing?”

“Your neck hurts.” He said it as though that made sense. It does, I guess. Her neck hurt, so he was helping.

And she couldn’t think of a way to explain why that was a very bad idea—at least one that wouldn’t out her as hopelessly infatuated with them—so she straightened again, turning back toward the water.

Hart’s hands came to rest on her, warm and dwarfing her shoulders. No, more than warm. They were scalding, making her breath catch. He slid them in until his thumbs pressed against the nape of her neck. She tried to stay rigid, but it took only moments before she let her head drop forward, slowly, lengthening the back of her neck for his attention.

The three kept talking as Hart worked.

“Remember the last time she tried that? What was that girl’s name?” Shepard asked.

“Kate,” Hart answered.

“Yeah, Kate,” Dax continued. “She was way too young. Nice figure, though.”

“I had to change my number,” Shepard said. “She wouldn’t stop calling me.”

“Well, if you didn’t screw everyone maybe they wouldn’t try to call you afterward,” Mia blurted out. She hadn’t meant to say that, but the words had slipped free, probably aided by the relaxation from Hart’s massage.

Hart’s hands paused for a heartbeat before continuing to work the knots from the base of her skull to the edge of her life vest. “You always assume the worst about us. We didn’t sleep with her, Mia. Shepard’s sister is overzealous about her brother settling down, but she always tries to set up us with people she knows, who are always younger than we’re comfortable with.”

“Men like younger women,” Mia said, her eyes closed as she let Hart work. “Especially rich, successful womanizers like you.”

“You know, you aren’t very nice to us,” Shepard pointed out. “It’s sort of annoying because women are usually very nice to us.”

Mia snorted, not at all chastised. Women were always falling all over themselves for the trio. Something about successful alphas turned women—especially omegas—into mindless idiots. All it took was Hart using that smoldering look, or Shepard giving a taste of his sarcastic sense of humor, or Dax when he offered up that panty-melting smirk he liked to give.

It annoyed her to see those moon-eyed females, to watch how the alphas acted like preening males, enjoying the attention.

The entire display made her roll her eyes.

“We don’t like women that young,” Hart said, speaking as though Shepard hadn’t chimed in. “I prefer a woman who can stand on her own. Believe it or not, I’m not looking for some little mindless young thing to hang on my every word. I’m not interested in having someone who still needs to be raised.” He took that moment to dig his thumb into an especially tight knot in a muscle to the left of her spine just below her neck.

It was heavenly. A soft whine left her, and Hart thankfully didn’t let up. Instead, he pressed harder, rubbing at the tight spot. The whine transformed into a shameless moan, one that sounded as though it were pulled right from the lips of a woman mid-orgasm.

Still, she couldn’t help it. It wasn’t heavenly—it was downright sinful how great it felt.

Mia drew in a breath through her nose, and a scent that made her stomach clench swamped her.

Aroused alpha.

Sure, she’d caught a slight whiff now and again, but it had always been subtle, usually if they discussed some recent conquest or if she walked into one of their offices unannounced.

Those fleeting traces were nothing like this, though. Before had been a trickle and this was a tsunami.

And Mia drowned beneath it. It washed over her and made a mockery of the moan she’d let slip earlier.

She’d been so sure she could resist them, but that certainty vanished.

Holding herself back was one thing when it was just looking, but now Hart’s strong hands were working magic on her and making her wonder what other ways they could be talented.

Her body went haywire, surprising her with the intense need that sprang up inside her.

Hart stilled his hands, but still they flexed against her. “Mia,” he said in a tone that was so deep, it drew a shudder up and along her spine.

“What?” She tried for naïve ignorance but doubted she managed it.

“You know what.”

Of course Hart wouldn’t give her an inch of space. He wasn’t the sort to let her get away with pretending nothing was happening. The alphas couldn’t smell that she was an omega—thank goodness—but they sure as hell could smell the way her body lit up, the way her pussy had dampened.

If they had any manners at all, they’d do the polite thing and act their asses off. That was what normal people did. It was like passing gas in an elevator. Everyone pretended they hadn’t noticed.

Not Hart, though. That man preferred when things were out in the open, which was funny for someone who talked as little as he did.

He didn’t move his hands off her, even though they’d quit massaging. “We said we’d back off, but, Mia, I can smell you.”

She couldn’t fathom this conversation with him touching her, so Mia pulled away and rose to her feet. She moved toward the interior area of the pontoon, wanting all three of them where she could see them, like animals she needed to keep in her line of sight. “You know, it’s rude to go around smelling people.”

“It’s not exactly something that’s easy to ignore.” Had Shepard’s voice ever sounded so…predatory?

“This isn’t me,” Mia tried to argue. “It’s you. It’s how you—” She snapped her mouth shut before she blurted out that they’d been the ones to start smelling good first. A beta wouldn’t have been able to scent that. Instead, she settled on something less damning. “You were the one who decided to give me a massage like that. What, were you trained at happy-endings-are-us?”

She’d meant for the joke to break the tension, to make them chuckle and move on. Not even Dax broke into a grin, though, which was not a good sign. Worse? The alpha who was always a ball of energy, never managed to focus on anything for more than a moment directed all that at her, which was unnerving as hell. “You’d enjoy it,” he said softly, his gaze so intense it almost seemed as though he wasn’t even blinking.

Mia shook her head. “I told you before. I’m not interested in being another notch on your bedpost.”

“You’re more than that.” Hart had twisted to look at her but remained in the seat, thankfully. She wasn’t sure she could handle him when he stood at his full height, when he towered over her with those honey-colored eyes staring down at her. “You have to know you’re more than that to us.”

Mia shook her head, not letting the words in, not letting them reach her. “That’s what you say to all the girls, I’m sure. This? This isn’t me. I don’t get like this over a little massage.”

“Like what?” Heat in Shepard’s gaze begged her to explain it, to admit her attraction.

Hell no. “I don’t care what it seems like I might want, okay? It doesn’t matter.” When Shepard looked as though he’d argue, Mia held her hand out to silence him. “I want to go back to the house. I don’t want this. I don’t want you three.”

Those seemed the magic words, because as soon as she said them, Hart’s back straightened. He nodded, and though his gaze held words he didn’t utter, ones it was clear he wanted to say, he kept them inside. “We would never pressure you,” he said softly, then looked at Shepard. “Let’s get back.”

Mia took a deep breath, thankful to finally have something go her way.

Except the slight disappointment that blossomed inside her, deep down in the parts she didn’t like to admit, wouldn’t stop.

She felt as if she were losing something, and she wasn’t sure what it was.