The Alpha's Siren Song

Chapter 33

I repressed a wince as I shoveled another scoop of wood shavings into the wheelbarrow. I had caught Deb watching me from the corner of her eye a couple times, like she wasn't sure if I was going to come undone and my arms were just going to fall off or if I would finally beg to have an early day. And, as much as I thought being armless was a real risk, they stayed attached and I fought through it.

Rose had finally wore me down and gotten me in the gym with her. Easton had also begged me to go with him, but I refused. What if he was right and I was super out of shape? I didn't want him to see me mopping sweat off my face and gasping for breath. That was possibly one of the least sexy things in the world. But that's exactly how Rose saw me. 

Rose was the epitome of a work-out goddess. She reminded me of Athena, going to war with the machines and weights. Her bright floral pants and cute sports bra contrasted her dark skin, calling attention to her, but long gone was the woman who picked at a salad. She giggled with a massive man who must have been on steroids, indifferent to the way he was flirting with her. She glared at machines like they had wronged her, and she watched her form in the mirror with pride. She was a lioness in her own den.

And I was a mess, a total hot mess, minus the hot, multiply the mess. I could only move a fraction of the weight she could. While she was using her breath to help her with her movements, I was panting and wheezing, my face bright red. When she chatted with me through our warm up on the elliptical, I was barely about to spit out a syllable.

And the aftermath of our gym session was still haunting me the next day. The muscles in my chest, arms, and back ached. I could barely pull on pants without my biceps and triceps screaming. It was a miracle I could drive myself to work and yet the horses were testing me all day long, trying to see just how much I could bear.

"Are you kidding me, Gumby?" I demanded, my hands on my hips.

The small grey horse just stared at me like he had done no wrong. 

"I just swept the aisle and here you are kicking around the shavings like you own the place."

No response beyond an ear swivel. 

"No respect. I will have you know my father created you. Well, not my direct father, obviously, but you get the point," I warned, sweeping the little area again. 

After eight grueling hours of talking to horses, watching Deb ride, and sweeping and mucking, I was finally allowed to drag my limp arms home. I drove straight to Easton's house as it had become our routine as of late. 

I no longer knocked on his front door, just let myself in. He would greet me from the kitchen, today he even had a dishtowel over his right shoulder. I would manage to pull myself away from the beautiful scent of whatever he was making, shower, change into clothes I left from myself, and wash whatever I had been wearing previously.

"What's on the menu tonight, chef?" I asked when I reappeared in the kitchen with wet hair. 

"Ratatouille," he answered, lifting his eyes. 

That shimmering green paired with the perfect lips and a gleaming grin made me weak in the knees. I had never felt like this, never been so easily swayed by a man. He had some magnetic, intense power over me. I couldn't help myself. I took a step towards him, only half aware that I had set my hands on his shoulders and was just a breath away from his body.

Staring up at him, looking at the faded scar on his cheek, the short stubble, the dark eyebrows, I was completely overwhelmed. This could be mine. This could be all mine. The eyes that seemed to sing with laughter, the deep voice that made me shiver, the hair that I had been dying to touch, to pull until he groaned. I could have it all. He was offering it.