“Rox, this is Stella,” West introduced, leading me closer to the reception area. “Stella, this is Roxanne, our receptionist and the wrangler of the office. She basically keeps our shit together.”
“Hi. It’s nice to meet you.” I gave her a smile, hoping that the earlier concealer job I’d done on my face before West had all but dragged me out of the house was covering a majority of the bruising.
Roxanne returned my smile, her lips nearly the same bright red as her teased and fluffed hair. She looked to be in her late fifties, and if I had to describe her look, from the big hair to the body-hugging clothes that showed off an impressive chest and the bit of extra weight she carried that managed to work really well on her, I’d say Biker Babe with Attitude. There was a hardness to her that didn’t age her at all, but it made her eyes shrewder than most people’s. This woman had been around, she’d lived, probably partied hard in her earlier years, and took absolutely zero shit from anyone. In other words, she could easily be a Ryan, once or twice removed.
“So you’re the girl who has everyone all in a tizzy,” she stated plainly.
“Um . . .” I glanced at West, widening my eyes just a bit to silently convey, I am? All he did was smile—unhelpfully—in response. “I guess?”
She let out a hum, giving me a scrutinizing top-to-toe scan. “Hmm. I can see why. You’re a looker, darlin’. Even behind all those bruises.”
Well, there was my answer on my makeup job. Damn it.
“Uh, thanks. You aren’t so bad yourself.”
She blew out a raspberry and sat back in her chair. “Girly, don’t I know it.” I had a feeling I was going to like this woman.
“Scott,” a deep voice called out, and when I turned, I nearly swallowed my tongue. Four men stepped out of an office to the left of the reception desk, and there was no way to describe their combine hotness other than WOW.
Time seemed to slow as they crossed the lobby toward us, like something you’d see in a movie. The only thing missing was the low, thumping, sexy music that always accompanied scenes like that.
Serenity was going to be green with jealousy when I told her that the rumors about what these Alpha Omega men looked like didn’t actually do them justice. And I wasn’t just going to tell her, I’d rub it in her face so smugly she’d hate me forever. Damn, I wished my phone was functioning, because I’d snap pics as proof.
“Hey.” West’s voice pulled me back to reality before I had a chance to start drooling. “Guys, this is Stella Ryan,” he introduced as the group stopped feet away. He pointed at each man as he gave me their names, and I hadn’t thought it was possible, but each name was as hot as the man it belonged to.
“This is Marco,” he pointed to the tall, built, dark-haired man with light hazel eyes and a caramel complexion. He moved next to another tall, well-built dude with black hair and eyes that looked like the purest jade. “That’s Bryce.” The third man, just as tall and well-built as the other two, but with chocolate brown locks was Hunter, and the last, again, tall and well-built, but with blond, overly long hair, looked like a freaking Viking. “And this is Lincoln. He’s the owner of this place.”
“Nice to meet you,” Lincoln said in a rich, husky voice as he extended his hand. His words were pleasant, but there was a hardness in his features that grew darker as he took in my face. Same with the other men standing behind him. “Call me Linc. Everyone else does.”
I didn’t think I’d ever feel thankful for the bruises mottling my face, but they were currently covering my furious blush, which was a serious silver lining. “Nice to meet you too.”
“Is she here?” I heard someone yell from down a hallway, and a second later, a drop-dead gorgeous woman with long, wavy chestnut hair came running into view. Where Roxanne was old-school biker babe, this woman was part of the newer generation of biker babes, from the biker boots on her feet, to the faded, well-worn vintage concert tee she wore knotted at her waist.
Trailing a few feet behind her was a real-life giant—I shit you not. Was the dude hot like the others? Hell yes. But he was even taller and built like a freaking mountain. He was the kind of big that would make men piss themselves if he challenged you to a fight. I knew that for a fact, because when his dark, fathomless eyes landed on my face and his nostrils flared, I might have peed a little. Clearly, these were the kinds of dudes who took it personal when a woman was hurt by a member of their brotherhood. Good to know.
“Stella,” West said, pulling my attention from the gorgeous, bubbly woman. “This is Sage Caine. Don’t mind her, she’s crazy. Best to ignore pretty much everything that comes out of her mouth.”
The woman in question reached out and frogged West right in the arm.
“And this is her husband, Xander Caine.” The man’s version of a greeting was a grunt and lift of his chin before disregarding me and turning to West. “You got that phone?”
West handed him the box that contained my new phone, and the giant took it before leaning down to place a kiss to his wife’s temple, the action surprisingly tender for such a scary dude, and walking back down the hall he’d just come from.
Okay, wow. Talk about an unexpected couple, not that they weren’t both disgustingly good-looking.
“Don’t mind him. He’s not much of a talker,” Sage said on her husband’s behalf like it was second nature.
“Not a problem,” I said on a laugh.
We shook hands, then I moved to do the same with Hunter and Marco as well, but when I got to Bryce, he held my hand longer than necessary, narrowing his eyes as he took me in, like he was studying a specimen beneath a microscope. I didn’t understand why he was examining me so closely until he spoke, my hand still in his as he cast a look to West.
“So this is her, huh? The best pickpocket you’ve ever seen?” His gaze returned to me, the doubt radiated in his eyes clear as day, raising my hackles. “This little slip of a thing?”
Oh no he did not.
Smiling sweetly, I gave him a shrug and pulled my hand back. “I guess West likes to exaggerate when it comes to my skills.”
He arched a brow and crossed his arms, and I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. “Must be it. No offense or anything”—and there it was again, the offensive ‘no offense’—“you just don’t seem the type.”
“You’re probably right. Question”—I held up my wrist that was now adorned with his watch—“is this waterproof? I’d hate to get it wet if it’s not supposed to be.” I pulled my lips into a fake cringe. “It looks expensive.”
Bryce’s eyes went big and bounced between my wrist and his for a few astonished beats. “How did you— That’s my watch.”
“I’m aware of that.” Sliding the thick metal band off my wrist, I twirled it around my index finger, giving him an innocent doe-eyed smile. “Feel like retracting your earlier statement?” I asked saucily.
“Oh, damn,” Sage said as she burst into giggles. “Okay, I officially love this woman.”
“One of these days you’re gonna learn to stop talking shit,” the big man that had been introduced as Hunter said with humor in his voice before clapping Bryce on the shoulder.