Page 116 of The Rust in Her Hair

"Good," she says with a little smile as he sets a hand at the small of her back, guiding her away from me.

I release the omega, letting Adrian kiss her.

His lips press to hers and he lingers, his hand cradling her face, kissing her like the two of them have all the time in the world.

I watch them, letting heat crawl slowly up my spine.

Fuck, I can’t wait to see Adrian finally have her.

He's been half out of his mind with wanting her since the day she walked in, and watching him finally sink into her with all that alpha strength is a thought I could get lost in for hours.

My eyes drift down the pair of them, taking in Adrian’s size, then Lyra’s trim waist and perky ass. Her tiny blue shorts hug every curve, riding up enough to bare the delicious crease where her thighs meet her ass.

Wait.

Where did she get those shorts?

And that t-shirt?

I take a step back, looking at the tight pink shirt, then back down to the shorts.

"Nico." Lyra’s voice cuts through my thoughts, and I lift my gaze to her. "Why are you frowning at my ass?"

"Sorry," I quickly smile. "I was wondering where you got those clothes."

"Ren dropped 'em by this morning." Mack marches out of the kitchen, carrying a pizza tray loaded down with chicken fried steak. He's wearing his usual pair of gym shorts and a frilly apron cinched over his bare chest. The words Life is Short, Lick the Spoon are printed across the front in loopy script. "She brought a whole duffel of clothes for Lyra. Even a pair of shoes," he says before disappearing back into the kitchen.

"Can we have her over for dinner?" Lyra turns to me with those big honey-brown eyes. "I want to thank her. I mean, I know I can’t exactly cook, but a family dinner would be nice."

"Of course," I smile while silently cursing at myself.

We probably should have bought her clothes a hell of a lot sooner than this.

I open my mouth to apologize for not buying her clothes sooner, but that’s when I hear Owen’s car pull into the drive.

"Heads up," I say as I glance at Adrian, then Mack as he comes out of the kitchen. "Owen had a rough day. His end of our bond's been wound tight all day. Something's got him stressed."

"I felt it too," Adrian says, brow furrowed.

"Well, whatever's eating him, food fixes most things." Mack sets a steaming pot of mashed potatoes on the card table with a soft thud. "Lyra even helped peel the potatoes."

Our omega beams as she looks at me, our bond thrumming with pride. "I also added the butter."

"I’m home." The front door opens, and Owen steps inside.

Mack claps his hands together, smiling at our beta. "Perfect timing, mate." He motions toward the card table loaded with dishes. "Dinner's ready, so I hope you're hungry. No takeout today. We’re eating a good southern meal."

Owen looks at the spread and smiles. "It smells incredible, Mack." But I catch the way his smile doesn't quite reach his eyes, and then it's gone a half-second too fast.

Adrian cuts me a look. He saw it too.

"Is everything okay?" Lyra reaches for Owen, kissing his cheek. "You seem tense."

And whatever's left of Owen's smile falls completely away.

He looks down at her, and the worry fills his eyes. My gut twists hard, dread pooling cold in my stomach, because I know that look. Owen wears it when something is genuinely wrong.

Owen drags his gaze off Lyra to me. "Something happened at work today," he says quietly.