“She always liked epic adventures,” I say. “At least, she used to.”
“And now?”
“She’s focusing on lighter works,” I admit, “which is monster porn, these days.”
Emily barks a laugh. “Good for her. Mayhap I’ll pick up her new work.” She gives me a wink. “Might give me some inspiration.”
Blood rushes to my cheeks, and I turn away, flustered. Is she flirting? But she’s an Alpha. Alphas don’t flirt with Betas.
I finish the sandwich, brush the crumbs from my hands, and think about heading back. Still, I stay, hoping Emily might speak again.
She doesn’t, not for a while, but I catch her studying my leg.
“You were in that accident at Phase Two, right?” she asks at last.
“Yeah.” I straighten. “Which wasn’t your construction crew’s fault.”
“Didn’t say it was. There were plenty of signs warning people not to go into the site.” She gives me a once-over. “You’ll gain your strength back.”
“Perhaps,” I say, not so sure as the months drag on with little improvement.
She squints off into the distance, then stands and stretches, revealing a band of bare, toned stomach. “Lunch is over. I better head back to work.”
Disappointment shoots through me. “It was nice talking to you.”
“It was a pleasure sharing a meal.” She pops the lid off a battered blue thermos and hands it over. “Soup. Take it.”
Before I can protest, she packs up the cooler, and I get the sense that refusing would be a personal affront.
“Thank you.” I breathe in the steam, and my mouth waters. “Is this homemade, too?”
“Sure is.” She shoulders the cooler. “This is my favorite lunch spot, if you ever have the urge to pass this way again.”
Without waiting for a response, she heads back up the trail.
I turn, keeping her in sight until she slips from view.
Turning back toward the water, I pour myself a cup. The soup is chunky, heavy with beans and shreds of beef, the broth carrying the depth of anall-day simmer. I drink it in slow sips, letting the heat warm my stomach despite the heat of the day.
When the thermos is empty, I stare at the container, realizing I’ll have to seek her out again to return it.
Did she plan it that way? Or was she just being kind?
Part of me thinks it was a little bit of both, and I’m not sure what to do with that.
Alphas don’t flirt with Betas, after all.
Right?
Chapter Five
Emily
Whoops fill the air as the water taxi bumps up to the Pinecrest docks. My crew spills out first, already in weekend mode, voices rising with jokes and boasts over who hung more drywall, and who carried the heaviest load.
Construction dust clings to all of us like a second skin, but my crew wears it as a badge of honor while I just itch under it. They peel off toward the parking lot, calling out my name with grins that dare me to follow.
“C’mon, Boss, first round’s on us at the Rusty Gull,” one of them hollers.