Page 49 of Gold Rush
“Money doesn’t matter.” The words come out as a growl as I glance at the most expensive blanket and pick it up, shoving it at the worker. “Put that behind the counter, I have more to buy.”Expensive equals good. More money, better materials.
The man scurries off as I stalk around the store, grabbing things as I see them. There’s a pillow meant to support her head and neck in the big, round nest, a set of flickering flameless candles meant to cast soft, ambient lighting, a white noise machine — fuck knows why I pick that one up, but it feels right.
I act on pure instinct, piling it onto the counter before reaching the section of loungewear in all shapes, sizes, and types. There’s some pants and sweats, and then… night… dresses? I stare at the rack, squinting as I try to think of a single time I’ve seen her in anything but leggings and a sweatshirt, the same clothes that she’s worn all week.
Of course she isn’t wearing anything else. She doesn’townanything else.
The thought chokes me. I know Seth and Bennett went out with her last week and shopped, but I don’t think they bought her anything soft or to wear at night. And from the state of her, I don’t think she has the energy to gobackout and pick out items for herself. I suddenly want to buy her an entire separate wardrobe of only the softest things she can wear. No one wants fancy shit to sleep in — just something comfortable.
I stare at the clothing, my mind spinning at all the options. Just as I start to question if I should walk away and cut my losses, I see an older alpha — at least thirty years my senior — with an omega woman, her silver hair pulled back into a bun as she laughs up at him.
The older alpha is doting on her, telling her to pick whatever she wants, and she giggles, hanging on him like a lovestruck teenager.
My heart clenches as I force myself to look back at the clothing rack.
“Those are better.”
I flinch, looking up to see the omega smiling at me, her voice softly accented.
There’s a lilt to her words as she motions to one of the racks. “You looked lost. Is this your omega’s first heat…” Her eyes flicker over me, and I know what she’s seeing — a colossal idiot,waytoo old to be lingering near nighties and having an existential crisis.
Her alpha comes up behind her, resting a hand on her shoulder. His presence shakes my mind clear as he stares at me warily. I also know whathe’sseeing — a grown ass alpha who should know better, and a potential threat to his omega.
I clear my throat, trying to soften the scowl that’s no doubt marring my features. “Yeah, it’s her first one.”
The omega brightens, careful not to touch the display, but motioning to a specific pair of silky looking shorts and a thin top. “Go with something like this, she’ll want to crawl out of her skin with the heat.” Her alpha rubs her shoulder as she smiles at me, lines near her eyes. “Whatever you get will be okay.”
I look at the set and then reach for a size that looks right. June’s all curves —not that I don’t want to see her in something skin tight — but that probably wouldn’t be the best option for when you want to claw your own skin off.The omega peels away from us, going to look at something else in the store as her alpha lingers.
He clears his throat, his voice gruff, but kind as he meets my eyes. “Trust your instincts, you have them for a reason.”
I nod at the other man, standing with the set in my hand as I suck in a deep breath. After a second, I turn, stalking over to the register and throwing the clothes onto the pile I already have, pulling my credit card out.
The total doesn’t even register as I pay and turn on my heel to go to the next store. Whatever the best is — I’m buying it for her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
JUNE
The townhouse is veryquiet when it’s only Arin and I.
After Theo stalks out, I wipe my eyes and stand on the steps, wrapping my head around both the call from my mother, and the way the alpha charged down the stairs like he was going to personally reach through the phone and throttle her.
Honestly, I might let him.
She left me a string of nasty text messages about hanging up on her, and I mute the thread, pushing it out of my mind as I try to find something to do with myself. I only see Arin once when he walks past the living room while I browse the shelves of books.
I misshome— I miss my book collection, my shitty secondhand desk with a wobbly leg, and the urge to be productive. This tour wasn’t supposed to be long, which is the entire reason I left my laptop at home, but now I itch to dosomethingwith myself and to distract from the miserable feeling simmering under my skin.
My original flight home was scheduled for three days from today.
The thought is sobering as I stare at the book in my hand.Is this my life now?Is my new life just isolation and emotionaloutbursts, untrusted to be alone, or be able to go where I’d like because of danger? The thought iscrushing, and I push the book back onto the shelf, turning when I hear a noise down the hall.
I wander out of the living room and into the kitchen, finding Bennett unloading brown paper bags of groceries. Soundlessly, I join him, unpacking various ingredients and putting them onto the counter for him, careful to watch where he stashes everything.
He flashes me a little smile, then pauses, a line splitting his brow. “What’s wrong?”
I snort, picking up a block of cheese. “Is it really that obvious?”
