Oliver squeezed his eyes shut at the smooth way Lucas said his name, and how it seemed to reverberate through his very core. “White,” he replied, trying to sound confident and cool. Lucas chuckled across the line, andoh no, Oliver was hard again. He prayed the alpha couldn’t sense his arousal through the phone line.
“You sound tired,” Lucas said.
“I didn’t sleep well.”
“Neither did I.” There was a pause, then, “The beds here are terrible.”
Oliver covered his mouth, attempting to hide a smile the alpha would never see. “Where’re you staying?”
“The Cherry Tree.”
Oh, no. Oh no no no. The Cherry Tree was only a few minutes drive from Oliver’s apartment. He could probably see the top few floors from his bedroom window. “O-Oh, really? That’s unfortunate. Wait, the Met is paying for you to stay at a five star?”
Lucas hummed. “It seems so.”
Oliver pouted. “Jammy bastard. When I had a training course at Scotland Yard, they put me up in the police accommodation. I had to share a room with four soap-dodging uniform officers. Sorry, I mean,respectfully, sergeant. I’m sure you’re neither jammy nor a bastard.”
God he was a grade A twat.
Lucas coughed out a laugh, one that sounded genuinely amused. “Reed, come and have breakfast with me.”
Then Oliver coughed, almost choking on his coffee. “W-What? No…I mean, I can’t. I have…things I need to do this morning.”
He couldn’t tell whether the rebuttal offended Lucas, but hecouldhear a rough scratching sound—as though he were scrubbing his fingers across unshaven skin.
“Anyway,” Oliver continued. “I’ll see you at ten past eight in the car park.”
“Right.”
“Oh, and could you do me a favour? Could you wear something a little less fancy? I’ll explain when I see you.”
“Sure.”
“Cool. See you later.”
With that, Oliver hung up before his treacherous tongue could betray him in the same way his cock had. He threw his head back in frustration. Perhaps he should take the wolf out for another run—help clear his head of the stupid, gravelly, voice that had just spoken to him over the phone.
He flicked through the rest of the briefing document, familiarising himself with the relevant names and places. All he needed to focus on was keeping Helena Cartwright safe. The rest was for Lucas to manage. When he’d finished reading, it was already 7:00am.
Foregoing his usual suit and tie, he pulled on a pair of black jeans, brown ankle boots and a roll-neck jumper. He popped another suppressant before brushing his teeth and walking out the door.
By the time he reached the police station, he craved a cigarette so badly he almost stopped off at the newsagents to buy a ten pack of Benson and Hedges. Resisting, he opted instead to make a cup of black coffee and started preparing the portable recording equipment. Then decided the fish tank in the corner of the office looked fucking dire, so pulled out the water pump and started cleaning it. Just as he was elbow deep in green water, the rest of his colleagues arrived.
“Alright, mate? You’re here early,” Nancy said, resting her laptop bag on the desk. “And you’re… cleaning the fish tank?”
Irritation spiked through him. “Yes Nancy, is that so fucking unusual?”
Raising an eyebrow, she replied, “Ollie, you’ve never once cleaned the tank. In fact, I don’t think I’ve even seen you feed the fish.”
Oliver scowled. “Yeah, well. It’s only a matter of time before someone reports us to the wildlife officer. Look at the poor fuckers.”
Nancy frowned, red hair falling over her shoulder as she tipped her head. “Is something wrong, Ollie?”
Before he could answer, Matteus walked in, strawberry milkshake in hand. “Wow,” he said, eyebrows raised. “Miracles really do happen.”
“Oh, will you two piss off?”
Matteus gave him a knowing look as he put down the milkshake and sidled up next to him. Dropping his voice to a whisper, he said, “This phantom heat is really doing a number on you, huh? We’ve got some phantom nesting going on over here as well.”
