9. Max

Chapter 9

Max

I watch her storm off, a whirlwind of a weird peach scent and fury. Part of me finds it amusing, and another part is intrigued. That purr. Fucking hell. It's still ringing in my ears.

I glance at the bouquet one more time, but no card is to be found. It's just a bunch of roses with no clue who they're from. This is baffling. Who sends flowers without a note?

Stalking back to my office, I dump the flowers on the desk and try to focus on the Bainbridge account. But I can't concentrate. A scent lingers on the bouquet, one that I've come to know and most definitely is not that unnatural peach scent.

Lily and vanilla, soothing and sweet, and belonging to one Lily Bloom, it's unmistakable, making it hard to focus on anything else.

I know exactly who she is. She is Jack's friend with benefits whom he moons over and thinks we don't know. I have never met her until today, not that it was an official meeting. He either hides her away, not wanting to share her, or she is the one to put the brakes on. She has to know who I am to Jack. She has to. So why did she act like we had no one in common?

Better question… why did I?

Probably because as soon as I saw her, my soul went into panic mode, and that makes me gruff and a bit of an arsehole. I can't help it. Jack isn't the only one who is mooning over the omega. Her scent is killing me. It lingers on Jack's skin, on his clothes. It's in the packhouse and I can't seem to get away from it, and now it is all over this bouquet. I don't know why she has chosen to mask her scent, but I can still smell it. My nose is attuned to it.

As I shuffle in my chair, I feel a tiny twinge of regret for being such a prick. Maybe I should apologise. Or maybe not. Alpha pride and all that. But still, something about her gets under my skin.

I try to focus on the Bainbridge account again, but it's fucking impossible, with her scent clouding my thoughts. I reach into my drawer and pull out a bottle of water, taking a long swig, trying to wash away the irritation, the confusion, and the intrigue.

Focus, Max. Lily Bloom is the least of your worries.

As if she knew I was thinking about her, my phone rings and it's my mum.

"Hi, Mum," I murmur when I answer.

"Max," she says. "How are things?"

"Fine."

"Are you any closer to finding a mate yet?" The tone of voice makes my stomach clench.

"I'm twenty-six, Mum. I don't need to settle down yet. Plus, it's a pack thing. It has to be right." I hold in the world-weary sigh.

"Of course it does," she scoffs. "I never said it didn't. But twenty-six turns into thirty-six before you know it."

"Wow, wishing my life away. Thanks for that."

"Oh, you know what I mean," she brushes it aside. I love her, but she is a pain in my arse. Wealthy, doted on by my dad and their pack, she is, I really hate to say this about my own mother, spoiled rotten. She always gets her way with her mates, and I think she assumes I'll fall in line. But not with this. I'm not settling and it's not fair to make Jack or Sam settle either if we can't agree. We haven't even really spoken it about at length. It keeps getting pushed aside.

I frown.

Now that I think about it, it keeps getting tabled by Jack…

"Max!"

"I'm here," I mumble, snapping back to attention.

"Well, you didn't sound like it. Listen, I've got a list of potential omegas for you to meet at the summer festival in a few weeks. All highly recommended by various packs."

Of course, she does. I rub my temples, feeling a headache coming on. "Mum, I appreciate the effort, but?—"

"No buts, Max! You can't just keep putting this off. We need to secure the future of your pack."

We do, do we?

I glance at the clock. Five minutes have passed, and I've done nothing but argue with my mother and think about Lily Bloom's scent. "Fine. I'll look at your list."

"Good boy." Her voice softens slightly. "I just want what's best for you and your pack. You're all good boys and deserve a lovely mate who will treat you right."

"I know." It's easier just to agree with her sometimes. But I fall more on the side of the fence of we need to treat her right. We say our goodbyes, and I hang up, dropping my phone on the desk with a loud thunk.

"This day blows," I mutter and go back to the Bainbridge account. But it's no use. Lily's scent is all over those fucking flowers. Decisively, I pick up the bouquet and drop them in the bin, which I then kick over to the other side of my office.

It doesn't help.

If anything, it makes it worse as I disturbed the scent clinging to the red petals. I look up through the half-glass window of my office and stare at the stuffiness that is Forshaw's bank. Sometimes, I wish I'd chosen a different career, like Sam and Jack. Although rushing into burning buildings doesn't sound fun and, nor does getting all sweaty and dirty digging up gardens. But like that. Just different. Something I wanted to do. My passion. That's it. My passion.

I stand up from my chair, feeling restless. Maybe a walk around the town will clear my head. I grab my jacket and head out of my office, nodding at Claire, our receptionist, who raises an eyebrow at me.

"Going for lunch," I mutter.

She nods but says nothing, hiding her smile. I really hate that she witnessed the flower debacle, and me acting like a dick. Pushing the door open, the fresh air hits me immediately, crisp and clean, with a hint of rain on the horizon. Perfect Lake District weather. I stroll down the street, past the shops and cafés, trying to let my mind wander away from Lily Bloom and my mum's incessant matchmaking.

A bell chimes as I push open the door to my favourite little coffee shop—a tiny place with mismatched furniture. The smell of freshly ground coffee beans mingles with the scent of homemade pastries, and it's almost enough to drown out thoughts of her.

Almost.

I order a flat white and a sandwich and take a seat by the window, watching people go about their day. It's summer, so there are plenty of tourists milling about, cameras out, maps in hand. I sip my coffee slowly, savouring the bitterness mixed with creamy milk.

A few minutes pass, and I've nearly convinced myself that this little getaway has done the trick.

Taking a bite of my sandwich, I watch as an older couple walks by, hand in hand, laughing about something only they understand. For a moment, I picture myself in their place, still laughing with someone well into our grey years. Who would that someone be? My mind drifts back to Lily Bloom. God, why her? Her scent has wrapped around me like a warm hug and refuses to let go.

"Max?" A female voice pulls me from my thoughts.

I look up to see Lesley standing there, holding her own cup of coffee and looking slightly guilty for interrupting me.

"Lesley."

"Mind if I join you?" she asks and sits anyway.

I glare at her, her omega scent of roasted almonds making my nose pinch. Once upon a time, I found her attractive enough to date, but never considered as a mate. Jack and Sam would hate her. She is snobby, entitled, and really just downright unpleasant.

Mum set us up, and that drives home how awful this list of hers is going to be. I really need to get out of that somehow.

"Well, isn't this cosy?" she says, her eyes flicking around the little coffee shop. She tries to smile, but it doesn't reach her eyes. She hates it in here for all the reasons that I love it. That tells me one thing: she came in here because she saw me.

"Yeah, it's a good spot." I try to focus on my sandwich, hoping she'll take the hint and leave.

"So," she continues, ignoring my obvious disinterest. "What's new?"

"Nothing."

"Okay," she giggles. "Still the same great conversationalist."

"Just got a lot on my mind," I reply, wishing she'd fuck off.

She gives me a scrutinising look and then nods as if she's just figured out some deep mystery. "You need to relax more, Max. Maybe join one of those yoga classes down by the lake."

Yeah, right. Like yoga's going to solve all my problems now.

"Thanks for the suggestion," I say dryly.

Lesley leans back in her chair, making herself at home despite my obvious irritation. "Oh, don't be like that. You know, Max, you could do with some company. It can't be good for you, holing up in that stuffy office all day."

I take another bite of my sandwich, chewing slowly to avoid responding immediately.

Her eyes narrow slightly as she studies me. "You know, your mum called me the other day."

Of course she did. I almost choke on my sandwich but manage to swallow it down. "Did she now?"

"Yes," Lesley says, a little too smugly for my liking. "She was concerned about you. She said you've been under a lot of stress and could use some cheering up."

I can feel my patience wearing thin. "And what? She thinks you're just the person for the job?"

She chuckles, clearly misinterpreting my sarcasm as playful banter. "Well, someone has to look out for you, Max."

"Right." I glance at the clock on the wall, wondering how soon I can make a polite yet hasty exit.

When she leans forward, I decide I don't care about being rude. I stand up and sacrifice my bloody good sandwich for the greater good. "I have to go. See you around, Lesley."

Lesley looks taken aback, but manages to plaster on a strained smile. "Oh, alright then. Another time, perhaps."

I don't bother to reply. I head for the door, my mind screaming escape. The bell chimes as I push it open and step onto the bustling street, eager to get away from the close quarters of the coffee shop.

As I walk back towards the office, I feel a bit lighter now that I'm not being stifled.

Claire gives me a knowing look as I enter the bank, and shrug off my jacket. "Everything alright?" she asks, barely containing her amusement.

"Brilliant," I say with heavy sarcasm. "Best lunch break ever."

She laughs softly before turning back to her work, and I retreat into my office. I'm not exactly keen on diving back into the high-level accounts, but it beats another awkward encounter or another phone call with my meddling Mum.