1. Chapter One

Chapter One

Lachlan

My feet hitting the pavement made a rhythm, like a song playing in my head. I'd forgotten my headphones, so it was better than nothing. My long legs ate up the miles, my big feet pounding harshly.

I'd woken up in a foul mood, something that rarely happened. More to the point, I rarely allowed myself to indulge in my bad moods. But today I felt like wallowing in it. If only for the short time it would take me to complete my morning run.

You could only take so much shit before your mood turned sour.

I breathed the cold air into my lungs. I loved the cold, it always made me feel alive. Even if our weather had been unseasonably mild for this time of year, it was still cold enough that puffs of white air formed in front of my face whenever I breathed.

My hooded sweatshirt wouldn't be enough to keep the chill out for most people, but the wolf in me tended to make me run hot. My wolf was itching to be let loose for a run also. My skin felt tight, like when you needed a good stretch, but didn't have enough room to do it properly. My wolf was as restless as my soul was .

We usually had snow this time of year, but on this Monday after Thanksgiving, the ground was devoid of anything white. It was cold, though, and as I turned my nose up, sniffing a bit, I knew the snow was coming.

We may have been in California, but Sweet Alps (and wasn't that just the dumbest name ever, even if one of my long-deceased ancestors had the honor of naming it), was in Northern California. I'm talking way up, where there was snow, cold, skiing, and people with common sense. Mostly. Sometimes. I mean people were people. We were a long way from the sunshine of Hollywood, and all its craziness.

My wolf snickered at my maudlin thoughts, but I ignored him. I wanted to keep wallowing in my shitty mood before I had to put on my "work" face, and be the guy in charge, that everyone was looking at for something .

My eyes glanced over to the huge mansion on the hill as I ran past it. My mom's house, our family home. I saw softly burning yellow in one of the downstairs windows, the great room, despite the early hour of four a.m. My mom was often up this early, and I would usually stop in most mornings to check up on her. I'd grab a cup of coffee, make sure mom was doing all right, without looking like I was making sure, and then continue my run. She made sure to tell my brothers and me that she was an omega capable of taking care of herself. She was, but we still worried.

As one of the main founding families of the town, to say the Sinclairs were loaded was like saying Angelina Jolie had a few kids. The house on the hill was five stories of stone and gleaming wood inside and out. More rooms than my brothers and I had been able to explore properly in a day. It sat up on that hill, surrounded by hundreds of acres of wooded beauty, like a keeper of secrets. Maybe it was. It had kept my secrets from the day I was born until I'd gone off to college at eighteen. It still felt like it was keeping my secrets .

My brothers and I had all carved out our own homes on these acres. My home was the closest to our mom. My daily run was a good five miles, with mom's house being the halfway point of the round trip. My brothers had all built their homes much farther away from mom. Deliberately, I was sure.

But as the oldest, even if it was only fifteen minutes between all of our births, I was the Alpha of the family. It was my responsibility to make sure mom was okay and had all she needed or wanted. I wanted to be close if she needed something, but also far enough that I had a little privacy.

I'd needed a sanctuary, someplace where I could escape, be myself, relax, and just breathe. Now my house, while gorgeous, felt cold and lonely. I'd built it after graduating with my MBA and returning home to Sweet Alps to run our family foundation. I'd been a wide-eyed alpha, still believing in fairy tales back then.

I'd built the house with a family in mind. I was sure I'd meet my mate, fall in love, and fill the house up with pups. I hadn't been innocent, or na?ve enough to believe I'd find my fated mate, but I thought I'd at least find a mate. A sweet, innocent omega, who would be happy to make the house a home, carry my pups, and raise them while I worked.

I snorted at my thoughts. Yeah, that dream was pretty much shot.

It wasn't that I hadn't had prospects. I'd had several relationships over the years. That's all I'd had. I'd never been one for casual dating, and hookups just seemed so impersonal. No, when I met someone and connected to them, I wanted it all. Monogamy, working towards the end goal of mating, maybe even marriage.

Nothing had worked out as I'd dreamed.

And this past week, with family bonding time otherwise known as Thanksgiving, my mom had started making noise about me settling down.

"You're thirty-eight, dear, not getting any younger. "

Never mind that my three brothers were the same age as I was. I was the oldest. Didn't matter that all of us were alphas, I was the oldest. It fell on me to set the examples and do everything first. Mate, pups, all of it.

It also didn't help that I constantly heard my father's voice in my head. From the time I could actively remember anything, until the day he had died when I was ten, I could still hear him as if he was standing right next to me, a ghost whispering in my ear.

Hell, he probably was, the bastard, come back to check up on me and make sure I wasn't being an embarrassment to the family name.

"You must always carry yourself as if people are watching, Lachlan. Because they are. Being a Sinclair comes with expectations. The people of this town are looking at you to lead them. And other people are waiting for you to do something to embarrass the family name. Never forget that."

I hadn't. I was always hyper-aware of eyes being on me wherever I went. From the business I ran, to eating in a restaurant, to pumping the gas for my car. I never could be me . I always made sure I wore the right thing, I said the right thing, I acted the right way. Even if none of it was how I really felt about anything.

It made me an anxiety-riddled mess some days.

My mind went back to Thanksgiving dinner, as I pounded past my mom's house. I wasn't in the mood to pretend this morning, and she didn't deserve my foul mood. I just kept running. My wolf whined a little, and I ignored him. I'd let him loose when I was back home, even if it was just for a quick lap in the woods that surrounded the back of my property.

"What happened between you and Lisette, Lachlan? I was surprised when you called to say she wouldn't be at dinner."

Well, I'd been fucking surprised too. I'd actually had vague thoughts of proposing to Lisette at Christmas. I'd half-assed been browsing for rings online when I should have been looking over proposals and emails in my office. I'd been more thrilled with the idea of proposing on Christmas Eve, even if I'd yet to find the perfect ring.

I'd seen it all in my head, had dreamed about it more than once. Christmas Eve because it was my favorite day of the year. I loved the magic of the day, the way hope and anticipation and excitement always hung in the air. Children waiting for Santa to come, and the small kernel that miracles might exist.

I loved the snow, the twinkly, multi-colored lights on the trees, and the softness that the flames from my fireplace would cast on the library in my house. My favorite room to spend my time in. I could see myself down on one knee, arm outstretched, holding a ring box. I'd never actually seen the person I was proposing to in my dreams, but I'd dreamed this same scene over and over the last few months, so it had to be Lisette.

We'd been dating for eight months. She was from the same social circle as my family, not that it made any difference to me. I didn't care about someone's bank account; it was who they were as a person that mattered to me. I had plenty of money for myself and a mate. Lisette was classically beautiful, with her perfectly coiffed blonde hair and perfectly aligned facial features. She'd always had an air of aloofness about her, a slight disdain to everything around her, and a certain coldness to her. On paper, she was perfect for me.

When she'd said we'd needed to take a break, I'd been stunned. She'd explained that with the holidays coming, it was going to be a very busy time for her. She had exams (I didn't call her out on the fact that with the holidays, she would also have winter break), and she needed to spend time with her family. I thought that was closer to the truth, and I could easily understand that. There was an age gap between us, her twenty-two to my thirty-eight, and I was understanding about her needs. I tried to be, at the very least .

What I wasn't as understanding about was the night two weeks ago when, bored, I'd taken myself to a movie. I'd been restless, like I was now, but hadn't wanted anyone's company. Our local theater had started showing old eighties movies in one of their auditoriums, and I was a secret eighties movie junkie. I had jumped at the chance to see one of my favorite movies on the big screen.

Imagine my surprise when I'd sat in my seat, popcorn bucket in my lap, and realized the couple seated in front of me trying to find each other's tonsils with their tongues, was Lisette and some biker looking reject.

I'd sat silently, watching them in horrified fascination, until they'd come up for air. Lisette's eyes had focused on mine, over the man's broad shoulder. Her shock had been palpable, and her blue eyes were huge.

I'd jumped up, suddenly having an urge to check out the men's room. I'd needed to get away, to put space between myself and them, before my wolf did something stupid. It was the only place I could think of that she couldn't follow me because I desperately needed to be alone.

I'd seethed inside the men's room, pacing back and forth, my long legs and powerful thighs eating up the small distance. I'd thrown the lock on the door and hadn't cared if no one else could get in. The theater had two restroom facilities. I was closing this one for a minute.

My rage was a hot, burning thing inside me, while heat prickled the backs of my eyes. It wasn't so much that I was losing – had lost – Lisette.

It was more losing the dream I'd had.

A mate, a home, pups. Again.

My wolf growled, and I'd yanked on the paper towel holder because I'd needed to let out some anger. I'd let out so much anger, I'd yanked the damn holder off the wall.

"Well fuck!" I'd growled, trying in vain to put the damn thing back on. I'd always been good with numbers, not mechanical things. I'd finally set the ruined holder on the floor and vowed to write a check for the damage to the manager. I'd been thankful no one had been in here with me, and if I'd told them it was like that when I'd found it, well…yeah, it wasn't honest.

But I wasn't about to admit the truth. That I'd just witnessed my girlfriend playing tongue twister with some rando, and I was pissed. My father's voice was harsh in my ears at the thought. Everyone is watching us, Lachlan.

I'd gotten myself together, my emotions under control. My face once again a bland, blank mask, and opened the bathroom door. Running right smack into Lisette, who had been waiting for me to emerge, pacing the hallway.

I'd clenched my jaw and leaned against the hallway wall. I'd taken a deep breath in through my nose and released it through my mouth.

"I'm sorry you saw that, Lachlan."

Sorry I saw it, I'd thought, not sorry she'd done it.

"Who is he?" I'd demanded because, after eight months, I had a right to know that.

"Does it matter?" she'd asked quietly, and I'd wanted to growl that yes, it fucking mattered. But did it really?

I'd looked at her then, really looked at her. Her tall, slender figure. Her stylish jeans, sweater, and designer boots. Her lipstick wasn't even smudged, despite the make-out session.

She was beautiful and classy, and I'd felt nothing at all for her.

I wasn't angry I was losing her; I was angry I was losing the dream I'd had.

I'd sighed, biting back my anger and tucking it away, where it couldn't be seen. I was always conscious of being angry in public. One, because of my father's expectations of me, and two, because I was a big man. Six foot five, with broad shoulders and powerful muscles. An angry me was intimidating to most people, even if I didn't feel intimidating. I was actually a big softy inside.

"I guess it doesn't. Cheating is cheating."

"We were on a break!" she'd defended, and I'd felt my anger rise back to the surface.

"This isn't an episode of ‘Friends' !" I'd yelled, running a hand through my short dark hair, and she'd flinched at the harsh tone of my voice. A tone I rarely, if ever, used. I'd been thankful the hallway was empty of people.

"An episode of what?" she'd asked, clearly confused, and not getting my reference to one of the best shows to ever grace a television set. Period. I'd fight someone about that.

Oh, for fuck's sake. I couldn't possibly settle down with a mate who didn't know who Ross and Rachel were, or what the great ‘we were on a break' debate was. I just couldn't.

"You're a great guy," Lisette finally said, when we'd stared at each other for a full five minutes, neither saying a word.

I'd held up a hand. "If this is where you tell me it's not me, it's you, please don't."

She shook her head. "No, it's definitely you."

Well, if that didn't just take the wind right out of my sails. I'd felt like I'd just been sucker-punched in the gut.

"You're very sweet," she'd continued, "too nice, even."

Too nice? I was too fucking nice? Was she kidding me right now with this bullshit? Well, yes, I liked to think I was a genuinely nice guy. I mean, wasn't nice a good thing? She'd said it like it was a dirty word.

I tried to be polite, to never raise my voice, to do and say the proper things. I tried to be a good boss, not an alpha asshole. I never used my alpha voice to get what I wanted. I tried to be a good boyfriend, spoiling my omegas. That was part of my job as an alpha. Protect, cherish, spoil. I loved spoiling my omegas.

"I just need something more ," she'd continued, oblivious to my inner monologue. She'd waved a hand in the air, "You're just too…vanilla for me."

I'd stared at her, my mouth gaping open. Vanilla?

My brothers called me that too, in teasing. Mostly because our youngest brother, Jamie, had come back home and opened a kink club. He'd gifted all of us with memberships, but I never used mine. Jamie tended to want to hold family meetings at the club, so I'd gotten glimpses of what went on, but it just wasn't my thing.

"Vanilla?" I'd managed to draw the word out, not even trying to keep the anger from my voice.

There were things I'd wanted to try in bed, don't get me wrong. The one time I'd been with someone I trusted enough to open up to, he'd pretty much laughed at me and told me "Alphas don't do that." I'd shut down pretty quickly after that, locking any secret desires and fantasies away, never to be looked upon again.

"I need a bad boy." Lisette had blathered on about what she needed, and I'd found I couldn't bring myself to give one fuck. "I need someone who is going to give me what I want."

I blinked. Well, maybe if she had told me what it was that she had wanted, I could have given it to her. Sex between us had been good. Not mind-blowing, or earth-shattering, but good. We'd both been satisfied. Lisette could suck like a hoover and loved giving blow jobs. I'd definitely enjoyed her enthusiasm in that area. No man was ever going to turn down a blow job.

"You're good in bed, Lach, if a little boring." Had her voice always had that high-pitched, annoying whine to it? It was starting to give me a headache. "And, that monster cock of yours is a thing of perfection, but I just need more."

Once more, I blinked my ice blue eyes at her. Had she just complimented the size of my cock, while at the same time calling me boring in bed?

"You need more?" I was just repeating everything she said, but I couldn't make myself stop.

"I need someone who is exciting, and who I have more in common with. Someone not so old ." She practically whispered the last word, still managing to make me feel like I had one foot in the grave.

"You need someone more exciting?" Yep, I was just going to keep repeating her words. I was just going to skip over the old part. I wasn't old. Older than her did not mean old.

"You're just soooo nice, and sweet, and caring, and it's just too much. It's suffocating."

I'm sure my dark brows were in my hairline at this point. Because what in the actual fuckity fuck was happening right now? I was being dumped because I was too nice, sweet, and caring?

I was an alpha. It was in our nature to take care of our mates, our omegas, even our betas. We protected, we cared for, we sheltered. It wasn't something I could just turn off. It was a part of me, of who I was, at my core. For that matter, I didn't want to turn it off. I liked caring for a partner, I liked seeing to their wants, making sure they had all they needed. I wouldn't change or apologize for it.

At least Lisette seemed to know what it was she wanted and needed. That was more than I could say for myself.

My mind came back to the present, and I realized I'd run a good two miles past my mom's house. I slowed to a walk, my breathing harsh in the stillness of the morning. I could run back home, but my wolf was whining, and I owed him a run. I hadn't shifted since the breakup with Lisette and two weeks was too long of a time.

All of this was why I had signed up for a match-making website, one that specialized in matching alphas with traditional omegas. I wanted a house omega, one who would run my home, breed my children, and have dinner waiting for me when I got home from the office. It was a bit old-fashioned, but it's what I wanted. I wasn't quite as conservative as the website advertised, but I was praying I would find someone that was a happy middle ground. I'd always known that when I settled down, what I wanted was old-fashioned and outdated, but it was who I was.

It's what was expected of me. I'd been told enough times by my father before he'd died.

I even had my first date scheduled for tonight with one of the website matches.

I needed to get out of my bad mood, and shifting would help. I could dump my clothes and pick them up later. It was one of the benefits of being out in the middle of nowhere on your own land.

I stripped and shifted in the early dawn light. My limbs elongated, muscle and bone stretching and changing, my skin replaced by a thick coat of silver fur. While my human side remained some when I was in wolf form, I didn't want to think. I let my wolf take over, and my paws ran into the woods, the cold ground seeping between my fur and claws.

I ran back to my house, emerging from the woods into my back yard, lit up by my security lighting. I shifted and grabbed a pair of well-worn sweats from the container I kept just inside my garage for this purpose.

Striding into my gleaming, state of the art kitchen, I sniffed, the smell of fresh coffee perking me up. Coffee timers were one of the world's best inventions. I poured a generous amount of flavored creamer into a cup, added some sugar, and enjoyed my first sip. I loved sweet things, and my coffee was no different.

I smiled, heading up the stairs to the master suite. Mondays meant long days and boring meetings. They also meant Wade, my personal assistant, bringing me the most amazing coffee from a shop he frequented.

If I was lucky, he would also grab something for breakfast to go with it. Scones, or cookies, maybe a brownie. My stomach rumbled just thinking about it.

Wade's friend owned the place, and he made a point of stopping in on his way to work. I missed the coffee and treats when I wasn't in the office. I could stop by the place, but I could never remember the name of it, and I didn't want to ask Wade, knowing he had probably told me a thousand times before.

Our foundation, the company I ran, threw a breakfast brunch each December before we let everyone off for a couple of weeks for the Christmas holiday. I'd asked Wade last week to set up a meeting with his friend, as I was interested in them catering it this year. Hopefully, he would have that taken care of this week, and they'd be able to accommodate us. I'd kind of dropped the ball on things, and December had rushed towards me before I'd realized it, and now it would be here in a week.

My phone buzzed while the water for my shower heated up. Swiping it, I saw a text from Wade.

Wade: I woke up snotty, coughing, and feverish. You're on your own today. I'm going to get drunk on cold medicine and pass back out.

Me: Go back to bed and don't come in and infect everyone. I'll be fine. Feel better!

I frowned. My day just took a turn for the worse, and my grumpiness notched up. Not because Wade was sick and wouldn't be in. I wasn't one of those bosses who wanted my employees coming in sick. I preferred people to take the time off and get better. No one did their best work when they were ill, and I didn't need people spreading germs around.

My grumpiness was purely self-serving. Wade was the best personal assistant I'd ever had, and he made my life about a thousand times easier. I had a board meeting first thing this morning, and I dreaded the things on a good day. Now, I'd be missing my coffee. The good coffee.

Me: What's the name of the place you get the coffee and cookies from? Your friend's place?

I bit my lip, waiting for it. I was brilliant with numbers and spreadsheets. There wasn't a PowerPoint, excel sheet, or equation I couldn't figure out. I could do complex mathematical equations in my head. Names of people and places…that's why I paid Wade.

Wade: Seriously? I've told you a million times. It's on the cup, for fuck's sake. I thought they taught you to read at that fancy college of yours.

Wade was more than a PA, he was also a friend. And because he ran my office – and in turn my life – with so much efficiency, he pretty much got away with murder. Including being extra snarky with me.

I'd never forget meeting him five years ago. My long-time PA, Blaine, had been gone for three months on maternity leave, only to tearfully tell me he wasn't going to return. His alpha wanted him home, and Blaine wanted to be a full-time daddy to their new pup. I couldn't blame him; I would want the same for my mate and pup. When I found one.

After three months with no PA, because I'd bravely insisted that I didn't need one for that short amount of time, and was too proud and stubborn to admit it when it became clear I needed help, I'd set up interviews to replace him.

My calendar was a mess; I was constantly double-booking things or forgetting them altogether. Blaine's desk phone wouldn't stop ringing, and I couldn't make a decent cup of coffee to save my life. I'd been counting the days – minutes – for Blaine to return, and when he'd let me know he wouldn't be coming back, I'd put on a brave face, while quietly thinking I might be having my first panic attack ever.

I'd been just getting ready to call the first of four applicants sent by the employment agency into my office for an interview, when Wade had walked into the office. Walk wasn't an apt description of how Wade ever entered a room. Flounced, bounced, and skipped would better describe his entrances. He was a live, human version of Tigger.

He bounced in, with shockingly bright, hot pink hair, blunt nails painted in five different rainbow colors – one for each finger on each hand – and black leggings. His white t-shirt sported a rainbow and glitter unicorn, with "Taste the rainbow" written below it.

I had blinked, blinked again, and stared, mouth open. The other applicants had stared, a couple even snickered. Wade had calmly and shrewdly assessed his competition and found them lacking. A fact that had been clearly written on his face. He didn't need to say a word to let you know if he found you lacking.

By the time I was done with the second applicant, I'd followed him out of my office, to find Wade settled in at Blaine's empty desk. The computer was open to my calendar, and Wade was on the blessedly silent desk phone, while he conversed with whoever was on the line.

He'd handed me the next applicant's folder without even looking at me, busy doing whatever it was he was doing. The fact that the phone was finally silent, was enough incentive for me to not give a fuck what he was doing, and to just let him carry on with it.

After applicant three, Wade had handed me the next file, along with a steaming cup of coffee. "You look like you need it," he had commented, still messing with my calendar, still on the phone. I'd taken a sip, and had resisted the urge to hire him on the spot. It was perfectly sweet, the sugar and creamer ratio on point. Magic in a cup.

Wade had saved his resume for last, had led me into my office, and bounced into a chair in front of my desk. I wouldn't have blinked an eye had he slid into my chair and interviewed me. Before I was fully seated, he had stated his terms in a no-nonsense manner, that didn't leave any room for argument.

"I've straightened that mess you made of your calendar out for the next month and confirmed all your appointments for the next two weeks. This is my starting salary and list of benefits I want. These are non-negotiable. I'll expect a raise in ninety days. I'll see you tomorrow, bright and early. I'll bring the coffee."

He had winked and bounced right back out of my office before I could even formulate a reply.

It had been the best hire of my life, and I'd never regretted it. He kept my office running better than even Blaine had. I considered him a friend, and he had the best hook ups for delicious coffee and even more amazing sweet treats.

All of that made me overlook his less than office business attire and his ever-changing hair colors of the week, or when he called me out on any of what he deemed my bullshit.

Me: It's like you don't even know me. Of course, I don't remember. But I NEED that coffee this morning. *Grouchy face emoji*

Wade: *eye roll emoji* It's called The Sweet Spot. I'd send you the address, but I'm barely coherent right now, and I'm going to trust that you know how to google.

Me: I can google with the best of them.

Wade: You don't google with the best of them. You just hit the keys on your phone really hard and hope for the best.

I might still be grouchy, I might want to be avoiding this day entirely, knowing Wade wouldn't be in the office to keep me on point, and to get me out of this funk I'd fallen into, but at least I'd have excellent coffee, and whatever treat my heart desired. Today might be a double-treat day.

I glanced at the time on my phone, groaning. Thanks to my extra-long run, and letting my wolf out to get his run on, I was behind schedule.

It was definitely going to be an extra treat kind of day.