Page 19 of Packing for Vacation

I'm already perfuming as he reaches me, his hand outstretched to shake mine. He leans in, planting the briefest kiss on my cheek, and laughs quietly to himself. “Jesus, I can see Matiu already got to you,” he remarks.

I’m blushing, and I know my cheeks are bright red, but I force myself to give a nonchalant little shrug and own the fact that I’m already covered in an alpha’s scent. “What can I say? I’m an omega.”

“It’s not a bad thing,” he adds. He’s still holding my hand, his brown eyes searching my face.

His appearance doesn't surprise me. Once I had his name, it was easy to find his picture on the law firm’s website. He's handsome, with long dark lashes, and I have no doubt that he would have been considered babyfaced back in his twenties. Now that he’s in his late thirties, he has a slightly more rugged appearance to him, aided by his stubble that’s not quite a beard but certainly more than a five-o’clock shadow. On the website his hair had been freshly cut, the length on top slightly slicked back. Now it’s slightly grown out and messy, adding to his on vacation vibes.

“How are you?” he asks.

“I’m good, thank you. How about you? How was your drive?”

“It was all right. Tiring.” He gives my hand quick squeeze. “But worth it.”

There's a muffled bark from the car, and he turns his head. “Shit, sorry. That's Barry. I've gotta let him out. You’re good with dogs, eh?”

“I love dogs,” I say, barely able to contain my excitement as I spot Barry’s black and white coat through the window. “I hope this isn't offensive, but I've been looking forward to meeting your dog just as much as I've been looking forward to meeting you.”

“Not at all!” he says over his shoulder as he reaches his car. “That's good. That's what I want. I couldn't handle it if you hated him—he’s my best mate. Here he is.”

Barry is the sweetest of border collies. He leaps out from the vehicle and immediately makes a beeline for Matiu.

“Hey, you're supposed to greet her first,” Scott says, but Barry’s tail is wagging like mad and he’s whining happily, jumping up to meet Matiu’s crouching form.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I missed you too,” Matiu says, ruffling the dog’s ears. “Come on, you've got to meet Lizzie, she’s the VIP.” I crouch as Matiu gives him a gentle nudge in my direction, and finally, I get some attention for myself.

“Hello, sweetie,” I coo, giving him a pat. “Oh, you're such a good boy. How old is he?” I ask Scott.

“Three.”

“Still a puppy,” I baby talk. It’s an exaggeration of course, but Barry does exude that playfulness that very young dogs have. He licks my chin as if he agrees. “Can you sit?” He immediately obeys. “Good boy! Can you shake hands?”

I’m not even embarrassed by the very omega squeal I let out as Barry puts one white-socked paw in my open hand. “It's lovely to meet you too,” I tell him, and his tongue lolls happily. “I think we're going to get on just fine.”

“So, on a scale of one to ten,” I ask, looking between both men, “how awkward is this whole two-colleagues-scent-matched-to-the-same-omega thing?” We're sitting on the back deck, watching Barry as he sniffs his way around the backyard under a pink and purple sky, the clouds lit up by the setting sun like balls of fluffy cotton candy. Both guys have slowly been nursing a beer, while I've been making the most of the New Zealand wine on offer.

“With work,” Scott answers, “I’d say about a five. Worse things have happened. They don't encourage people to form packs with your colleagues, but obviously this kind of thing crops up from time to time. Hell, I even had a case with a similar scenario once.”

Matiu’s eyebrows rise. “An employment dispute?”

“Nah, a divorce.” I must look alarmed because Scott’s eyes widen. “No, it worked out fine for everyone, don’t worry! Seriously, I can’t talk details but everyone ended up happy and it was probably the most amicable divorce I’ve ever worked on… all I’m saying is these things happen. Someone reveals as an alpha, someone else reveals as an omega, a newbie turns up at work and they’re a scent match. It happened to two of his brothers,” he adds, gesturing at Matiu.

“What?”

“Oh, he hasn’t filled you in on all the Thompson lore yet? Jeez. Get some popcorn ready.”

“Fuck off,” Matiu says playfully before taking a swig of his beer. “It was a long time ago,” he adds, talking directly to me. “We don’t bring it up in front of them, but my older brother Rāwiri was already an alpha when one of my younger brothers, Īhaka, revealed as an alpha too, and when he did, Īhaka’s girlfriend, Kris, suddenly didn’t like Īhaka’s scent. Rāwiri was twenty-five, Īhaka was nineteen, Kris was twenty.”

“O-kay. She was a beta?”

“Was. That’s the operative word. Because a week later she revealed as an omega, and then it turned out that she—Īhaka’s girlfriend— was Rāwiri’s scent match.”

My gasp is so comically loud that both men grin. “No,” I say. “What happened?”

“Kris ended up with Rāwiri. They formed a pack. And the thing is, it was devastating for poor old Īhaka⁠—”

“—and he’s such a nice guy,” Scott interjects.

Matiu nods. “He is, my poor bro. He’s honestly the last person on Earth who deserved that, but the thing is, once Kris had revealed, he couldn’t stand her scent either. They’re not compatible. And now she has three kids with Rāwiri’s pack and everyone’s happy, and Kris even works as a receptionist for Īhaka’s firm.”