Page 42 of The Gift
“Okay, I seriously need to do some work with a hell of a lot of concealer if I’m filming. People will get stuck on the epic bags under my eyes instead of the magic of Jenna’s house. God, I hope her cat is around, he’ll be the star of the show.” She pauses briefly, catching her small nervous ramble before looking at Henley and Ashton. “If you’re okay with Koda driving with me to the cottage, I’d like that. And then afterwards, I’ll let you know if I need him to drive me home too. Is that okay?”
“Pretty sure we wouldn’t be able to stop him. But if it wasn’t him, it would be Reno, Hen, or me volunteering. You know that, right?” Ashton says, his hand clenching as he fights himself not to touch her.
She looks at me quickly, a small blush, a sweet drop of her scent before she locks it all away.
“Henley, can you ride my bike there in case one of us needs to leave or something comes up?” I ask.
Henley does that brisk nod he’s so very good at, while Ashton moves closer to her. It’s like watching the pull of a moth to a flame, which is laughable considering his size.
“Are you really okay? We unloaded a whole tonne of let’s-shake-shit up on you.” Ashton asks tentatively, approaching her with humour, as is his way. And I watch out of the corner of my eye as his arm lifts slightly like he wants to reach out for her, but he doesn’t.
“We’ll see. Let’s leave it at that,” she answers, once again opting for honesty. Ashton pulls a strange face that doesn’t hide that he’s taken aback by her apparent non-drama laden acceptance. “Don’t you look at me all surprised, Ashton, I like to think I’m a little less transparent than that.”
“What?” He smirks, matching her own slight smile.
“You know what. But since we’re all being glaringly obvious, I know when to admit acceptance of fact, which is quite different to dealing with fact. I have no idea what will happen in five minutes when the reality of what has happened hits, but right now, what am I going to do, dispute the fact? I mean, I probably would if it was anyone but Reno. He’s definitely got the magical touch that makes a great doctor, plus the man has more letters than the alphabet after his name. Trust me, I remember from all the information on Pack Bailey that was distributed by Exposé.”
Reno packs up laughing next to her before he clears his throat.
“Has he shown you his thermometer?” Ashton barks out, through a wide smile.
“That is confidential patient to doctor information, actually,” Reno says, hamming it up so he sounds clinically suppressed.
“Ha, ha.” She pouts before miming zipping her lips.
“Can I give you a call later, Bailey? All jokes aside, I’d like to talk to you about what I saw in your results. I have a suggestion to help you mask your traits better, but I know now is not the right time,” Reno adds.
She shrugs her shoulder before turning to him, “Let me get through today. Carmen is going to be like a bloodhound, especially after she was denied entry last time. Please, for the love of your supposed water-tight confidentiality, act like we haven’t had this discussion. Or even had any discussion, besides what she saw last night.”
“Easy, done. Besides, she’s mad up for Henley. You missed him kissing ass at dinner last night.”
Henley snaps back, “I do not kiss ass, Ashton.”
“And on that note, get it,” she laughs, “I’m out.”
Without waiting, she’s leaving, at least it’s a little lighter than it was only a few minutes ago. But that’s Bailey to a tee, in her roundabout way she leaves people happier. There’s no need to point out that it is another indication of her nature, shit, she’s not stupid, she knows exactly all the characteristics and behaviours of being an omega.
She’s an ace at manipulating situations and would be able to mark off her genetics as a characteristic that she’s hidden behind her stronger ones she’s adopted. And when you couple it with the shit she keeps taking, those awful scent blockers she bathes in and her determination, it’s deceptively easy to hide in plain sight. Add in her exaggerated alter-ego of raging confidence, she presents as more of beta on the cusp of being an alpha.
Knowing that she’s entrusted me with the truth of who she is, is a fucking gift. And that is irony, through and through.
I reach the door and open it before she does, her thanks comes in a small sigh and a quick glance. And then we move purposely towards her car, and I open the door again for her, gently untangling her clenched fingers from around her blue bag, before waiting for her to sit in the driver’s side. Once she’s seated, I sprint around the other side and climb in.
We sit quietly next to each other, though it’s impossible for me to keep my hands to myself. I hook my hand over the top of her thigh. At the first red light she stops at, she drags me to her and kisses me. It’s nearly manic, until the dipshit behind us honks impatiently when the light changes, and then she makes it lazy, unhurried and she melts into a better version. She does her alter ego so well.
“So,” I offer once we start driving again, “do I need to introduce myself to any lovers or boyfriends?”
She does a deep throaty chuckle that is like pouring pure nitrogen on my cock.
“Are you getting territorial on me?” she rasps, and my cock jumps again, like a viper ready to strike.
I shrug at her, shuffling on my seat to adjust myself, and she watches me, licking her lips. “You know it. Don’t pretend it’s a problem. Did you want me to rub some aloe vera on your pussy or you like the reminder my cap left?”
“Yeah.” She coughs. “Either works actually.”
Bailey bites her lips, fanning herself instead of talking. I stop fucking egging her on, she’s had enough land in her lap, so I shift my hand off her thigh, because seriously my fingers want to bury inside her. A nearly indiscernible growl of frustration passes from her throat before she takes a series of steadying exhales and refocuses, making me chuckle.
We drive quietly for a while, with the radio as the only noise before she succumbs to temptation and snags my hand, bringing it back to squeeze her thigh, “You good, Bails? Still with me?”
