Dom headed toward the man, not bothering to stop.
But as he brushed past Sinclair, and as their arms touched for the briefest second, a jolt of electricity sparked through his skin. What the hell was that?
Sinclair sucked in a sharp breath. He couldn’t have felt that, too.
Without stopping, Dom said, “You’re hired.”
He left the office without a backward look.
4
What is That SMELL?
I won’t fuck up, if it’s the last thing I do.
Jesse eyed the pool of white sludge that had flooded around the toppled truck, filling up the better part of the wide ditch. When Gareth had said toothpaste truck accident, this wasn’t what he’d pictured in his mind. Especially not the overpowering minty freshness that permeated through the air.
“Okay there, Jes?” Gareth called.
“Yeah,” Jesse answered. He sank his foot carefully into the toothpaste, carefully putting his weight on it—there was no telling how deep the toothpaste went. Then he took another step, and another, the toothpaste squelching when he pulled his feet out of the thick, sucking stuff.
When he reached the truck, Jesse set his ladder next to the cab, so he could climb in to help the driver out. “Careful there, sir,” he said, reaching forward. “Are you hurt?”
“Naw, I’m fine.” The man grasped Jesse’s hand. He took a second look at Jesse’s scars, but Jesse was almost used to it at this point. “You okay, boy?”
That was a surprise—few people ever cared how Jesse was. A smile crept up his lips. “Yeah, I am. Let’s get you out of there.”
The man climbed out after Jesse, patting his shoulder. Jesse helped him through the toothpaste, all the way to the side of the road. “What should I do next?” he asked Gareth.
“Retrieve the ladder,” Gareth instructed. “We’ll wait for the tow truck to straighten this up.”
“Right.” Jesse waded back through the toothpaste, taking a shortcut to the ladder. Halfway there, his foot caught on something solid.
He was too late to stop his momentum. His stomach clenching, Jesse lurched face-first into the white stuff, throwing his arms out to break his fall. Toothpaste slathered all over his face and his front, cushioning the impact somewhat. Except it also got into his mouth and eyes, filling his lungs with peppermint.
Damn it. That wasn’t the impression he wanted to make, not on his very first call. At least Dom wasn’t here to see it.
Feeling infinitely disappointed with himself, Jesse spat, sitting up to recover his bearings. His skin tingled all over with mint.
“Broke anything?” Gareth called.
Jesse shook his head. “I’m fine.”
“Good. I wouldn’t know how to answer to Dom otherwise.”
Ugh. Not him. At Jesse’s grimace, Gareth laughed. “Relax,” Gareth added. “I was pulling your leg.”
“He has something against me,” Jesse blurted. Then, afraid that he’d said the wrong thing, he glanced at Gareth.
Gareth shook his head. “You’re fine. Get up, get the ladder. We’ll head back to the station soon so you can clean up.”
Dom would be at the station when they got back, wouldn’t he? He’d sneer the moment he saw that Jesse had fucked up.
It was no secret that Dom didn’t want Jesse on the team. Jesse had panicked a little when Dom had slammed the door the other day. For a moment there, Jesse had thought the Facility’s guards had shown up, that they were coming to tranq him and bring him back into his cell.
But it had only been Dom. Jesse had calmed himself down, he’d breathed through the panic.
And That Bastard had brushed right by like he’d seen Jesse as someone incompetent.
Hate was too strong a word for what Jesse felt, but damn—he wished he could’ve punched off that condescending look Dom had given him.
Even this morning—Dom had glanced right over Jesse when he’d done the morning briefing. As though Jesse wasn’t even on the team. It wasn’t fair. But Jesse had convinced himself that he was sticking through this job, he was going to make sure Dom never looked at him that way again.
Jesse wiped the toothpaste out of his eyes, fetched the ladder, and set it back on the fire truck. Then, while they waited for the tow truck to show up, he tried scrubbing off as much of the toothpaste as he could. Gareth pointed him to some paper towels.
Later, as they were driving back to the station, Jesse sniffed at his clothes. “I still stink of toothpaste, don’t I?”
Gareth sniffed at him. “Somewhat. Hey, it’s better than sewage.”
Jesse winced. “True. It was a lot of toothpaste, though. I thought they transported that in tubes. Or metal drums.”
Gareth shrugged. “Maybe some company was trying out something new.”
Probably. And Gareth was right—toothpaste wasn’t the worst thing ever. Maybe Dom could somehow be convinced of that.
They pulled into the station, Jesse still with toothpaste caked into his clothes. Almost immediately, he spotted Dom on the far side of the garage. So Jesse made sure to keep out of his view, wiping off the traces of toothpaste he’d left on the seat. Then he climbed out of the truck, tagging along as Gareth briefed him on his off-call duties.
“Make sure to replenish the truck supplies,” Gareth said. “You’ll find a checklist—”
“What is that smell?” Dom’s voice cut through the garage, rumbling and low. Some of the alphas looked up.
Heat burned through Jesse’s face. Could you not?
But Dom rounded the truck, six-foot-four of solid muscle. His gaze locked immediately onto Jesse. And all the toothpaste on Jesse’s skin tingled.
“It’s just toothpaste,” Gareth said dryly. “I have some on my pants, too.”
Dom ignored him. Instead, he surveyed Jesse, his gaze raking down every inch of Jesse’s body. Not in the way the potential buyers had leered back at the Facility, no. Dom’s gaze was hard, cold, and it almost felt as though Dom could see through Jesse’s clothes to his skin.
Somehow, that odd something in Jesse’s body jolted again. Like it had that very first day.
What’s that supposed to mean? Jesse rubbed
