“Brew anyone?” Nancy asked, tapping the kettle. All the West Newton officers nodded and threw their mugs down by the tea station. The Met officers just looked confused.
“Hey, Ollie. Long time no see,” Harry said, sidling up to him as they waited for the water to boil.
“Hi,” Oliver replied, flicking through a stack of papers, in an attempt at looking busy.
“How’ve you been?”
Fucking peachy, mate.
“Pretty good,” he replied, readjusting his tie.
“T-That’s good. Did Nancy tell you there’s a pub crawl happening tonight? Wanna come?”
You mean the pub crawl Nancy and I started four years ago?
“Yeah, I’m going.” His words must have sounded sharper than intended, because the next thing he knew, Lucas appeared at his side.
“Oh, you too DS White! You’re more than welcome to come. You and the other Met officers.”
“Harry, Harry, Harry,” Nancy drawled, jostling his shoulder. “Are you stealing my thunder?”
Harry looked momentarily stricken, which brought Oliver no small amount of glee.
“I’m only joking with you, baby-cakes. The more the merrier,” she said, waving her hand towards the other Met officers. They all looked sheepish as they glanced at one another.
“Thank you, Nancy,” Lucas said, but was looking at Oliver. “So long as we’re not intruding?”
Oliver gave him a small shake of his head before turning back to his papers. “So why are we waiting until tomorrow to hit those two addresses?” He asked, clutching a mug of hot tea between his hands. It was a fair question, and the rest of the team turned towards Lucas.
The alpha nodded and took a seat at the head of the long conference table. “The simple answer is that we cannot take the risk. The group that we have under surveillance is well organised and has the resources to disappear at the drop of a hat. Whilst we’re fairly certain we know which address to hit tomorrow, if we make a mistake, the children will be long gone. It’s the same with the car dealership. We can’t risk the staff informingMoore’s associates before we have time to firm up the plan. So in this case, it’s safer to wait.”
Oliver nodded and took a sip of his tea. When the rest of the team returned to their tasks, Lucas leant across the table and pushed his mouth close to Oliver’s ear. “I know patience isn’t your strong suit, DC Reed, but please try and contain yourself for just a little longer.”
A small grin tugged on Oliver’s lips. “I don’t know what you mean, sergeant.”
Oliver hadto give credit to the Met officers, because they all turned up at West Newton’s finest establishment that evening—The Cock and Bull. Or The Cock and Balls, as it was known locally. There were many-a-joke to be said about the pub—the fact that the bronze bull statue next to the front entrance had two colossal bronze testicles hanging between its legs, being one of them. And that—strangely enough—said testicles were the shiniest part of the bull’s body. The second, was that unlike many of the smaller pubs in West Newton, it was police-friendly.
The Met officers—bless their souls—looked horribly out of place; like prized show ponies thrown in amongst a herd of scruffy nags. But at least they were making the effort. Oliver chuckled to himself as he watched them trying to make small talk over the rim of his wine glass; his foot tapping softly on the table leg. Nancy, in particular, was engrossed in conversation with the blonde-haired alpha with the choppy bob cut.
Lucas dutifully bought the first round of drinks, and Oliver couldn’t help but admire how his black shirt clung to his shoulders as he put the tray on the table. He reached across to place a pint of Guinness in front of Nancy, his shirt riding upslightly and—was that a fucking belly button piercing? Oliver swallowed another gulp of wine, hoping it would cool his rapidly warming neck.
They all chatted and made respectable small talk, but the longer the evening went on, the more drunk Harry got. Pulling up a chair next to Oliver, he accidentally sloshed a few drops of cider into his lap.
“Ah, sorry about that, Ollie,” he said, grabbing a napkin and patting his leg. “Oof, you been working out?” His fingers squeezed Oliver’s thigh, and he bristled at the unwanted touch.
“Just the usual,” he replied, tone clipped as he brushed Harry’s hand away.
Harry hummed, resting his head on Oliver’s shoulder, breath stinking of booze. “And here I thought you’d gone and got yourself a revenge bod.”
Oliver wrinkled his nose and dropped his shoulder, annoyance coiling in the pit of his stomach. He already had a revenge bod,thanks very much.
Glancing up, he found Lucas’ dark eyes on him, jaw tensing as Harry pressed his mouth to Oliver’s ear. “This party’s boring. Why don’t you take me home and fuck me like you used to?” The beta said, spilling yet more of his drink into Oliver’s lap.
“Why don’t you drink some water before you make a tit of yourself?” he snapped back, using the spilled drink as an excuse to escape into the restrooms for a few minutes.
When he reached the narrow corridor to the toilets, he was in an absolutely foul mood and just wanted to go home. Rounding the corner, he found the way blocked by four stocky alphas, pacing up and down outside the door. Then it hit him. The unmistakable scent of omega heat.
To him, it was a sickly sweet scent, like an overripe peach that had sat out in the sun for too long. Growing up, he’d been exposed Matteus’ heat pheromones plenty of times. However, itheld a strange bitter twang, which he supposed was his body’s natural deterrence to stop him from accidentally mating his own brother.
