13. Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

Lachlan

My feet pounded into the earth as I ran. To say I was angry didn't even touch the surface of what I was feeling. I was pissed as hell right now, and equally confused. Quinn ran hotter than hell one minute, and cold as ice the next. He infuriated me, even while my body burned for him. I'd be lying if I said him tossing me out on my ass hadn't been a bruise to my ego.

What in the fuck had that even been about? We'd had a nice dinner. He'd been relaxed, flirty, and fun. He'd seemed open to the possibility of us admitting that maybe, possibly, we could be fated mates. Even his asshat of an ex showing up, and my out-of-character behavior in handling the douche hadn't seemed to faze him. In fact, I'd say my brutish display of alpha had even turned him on.

The sex between us was mind-blowingly good. More than good. The best I'd ever had. I'd knotted him twice now, something I'd not managed to do with any other partner. Ever. My mind drifted to when Quinn had held my hands down, putting pressure on them. Desire had swirled through my body so fast it had nearly made me dizzy. When he'd tied my hands, I'd wanted it. I'd trusted him completely, without thinking about it or questioning it.

I'd let my guard down, and let him do what he'd wanted. It'd been so good, so much more than anything I'd ever felt before. I'd loved the feeling of not being able to touch him, of having to lay there, and let him do whatever he'd wanted to my body. To let go, to not be in control, to just feel. It had been amazing, and I wanted more of it. I wanted him to do all the wicked things he wanted, to me.

Desires I'd long since pushed to the farthest corners of my mind, to be locked away forever, swirled to the surface. Quinn, tying me in silky bonds, my cock enfolded in his mouth, while he fucked me with a thick dildo. Quinn, replacing the dildo with his cock, making me take it while I bucked beneath him.

Fuck! I had to stop running and rest my hands on my knees, breathing harshly. My cock throbbed in my sweats, hard and aching, tenting the front.

"Lachlan, come inside."

My mom's voice was like ice water on my sexual haze. My head shot up, eyes wide, and I realized I was stopped in front of her house. She was standing at the front door, warm yellow light spilling behind her. Her robe was tied tightly against the cold air.

I had no idea why she was up at this unholy hour of the morning, even by her standards it was early, but I had a bone to pick with her too.

"I don't know exactly what scheme you have dreamed up for Christmas Eve dinner, but call it off now." I growled, brushing past her, into the warmth of my childhood home. The door closed softly, blocking out the cold. I didn't stop my long-legged, angry strides until I was in the kitchen, a cup of coffee poured .

"Creamer is in the fridge, you know where." My mom's voice was calm, tinged with a hint of amusement. She sat down at the kitchen table and picked up her cup of coffee, eyes glued on me over the rim. "You're out early this morning."

So, she was just going to ignore what I'd said? I doctored my coffee until I had the exact amount of pale brown I craved. "Did you hear me?"

"I'm not deaf, of course I heard you. I'm just choosing to ignore you."

I glared at her, sliding into a chair. "I suggest you don't."

She chortled like I was the funniest person she'd ever met. "Something has you riled up this morning. Want to talk about it?"

Her calmness, something I'd always admired, grated on my nerves this morning. I knew I wasn't mad at her. Not really. No, my anger was directed towards a mouthy shit of an omega, but she was here, so…

"Jamie told us what you're planning."

She took a sip of coffee, her brown eyes holding my gaze. "What am I planning?"

I pointed a finger at her. "Don't give me that innocent act. You know. No ambushing me with a blind date I don't need or want. Just don't."

She was quiet for a long minute, sipping her coffee, not saying a word. Gazing at me with her mom eyes, while I fought the childish urge to squirm in my seat under her all-knowing perusal. Then she just shrugged. "Okay."

I huffed. I wanted a fight, dammit, with someone. Anyone. "Okay? Just like that?"

She sighed, in the way only moms can, that makes you feel like you are three years old, and have sorely disappointed them. "Yes, just like that. Now, would you like to tell me why you are running at this ungodly hour on a Sunday morning, like the hounds of hell are chasing you?"

I took a sip of my coffee, enjoying the warmth it brought, along with the caffeine and sugar rush. Instead of telling her exactly what had me so wound up – because, ew, she's my mom – I answered her question with one of my own. "Why are you up?"

"I was seeing someone out and I saw you in the distance, so I waited for you."

My mind spun at her casual words, coming up with more questions than answers. "What?" I sputtered. "Who? What? A man?"

She smiled her sly smile, which said nothing, and took another long sip of her coffee. "Yes, a man. Who he is, is none of your business. He's of no consequence, so it doesn't matter. We're talking about you."

"The fuck we are!" I shouted. "Who is he?" I had no idea why I was getting so wound up about the thought of my mom having a lover…gag…but it was a perfect deflection for what was really eating me up inside. All my alpha instincts to protect had been front and center since I'd met Quinn. Touched Quinn, to be exact. They apparently extended to my mom too.

She waved a small, delicate hand in the air. "He is no one. He served his purpose, and now he is gone. Move on, Lachlan." She snickered, then gave me a face. "Oh, my goodness, did you think I've been celibate all these years since your father passed? He's been gone a long time."

I'm pretty sure my brain may have actually exploded. To think of my mom, with some….stranger…doing….things. Things like Quinn and I did…gah, I needed to bleach my eyes.

"Oh my gosh, your face right now," she hooted, wiping tears from her eyes. "You look absolutely scandalized. Newsflash, son, I've had sex since your dad died. Lots of sex."

I couldn't come up with any words that made any kind of sense. I was dumbfounded. Which was fine with my mom, as she continued. "Do I need to remind you that I was only eighteen when your father and I were mated? Nineteen when I had you boys, and not even thirty when I became a widow? "

I sputtered, then stopped, pausing. She'd been younger than me when she'd become a widow. In the prime of her life. A baby when she'd married and become a mother of four. "I guess I never thought of you, of that, like that. With you. I'm not making any sense."

She waved my words away. "Of course you didn't. I'm your mom, you aren't supposed to see me as anything else. Now, tell me what's really bothering you. "

I sighed, and fiddled with my cup, twisting it this way and that. "Do you believe in fated mates?"

"In theory, of course. But I don't know. Your father and I weren't fated, you know that."

"But you were mated, and you loved each other," I said. You didn't need to be fated to be mated to someone. If you did, the population would have died out a long time ago.

"We did, eventually," she said after a moment. "Yes. But it took a little bit."

Wait? What?

"What does that mean? Eventually?" I demanded, while my mind exploded for the third time in less than an hour.

"Your dad and I weren't a love match. We were…" She was thoughtful while she chose her words carefully. "We were a business deal. I was a young, beautiful omega from a very wealthy family, and your dad was an older alpha, from an equally wealthy family, who was ready to settle down and produce an heir. My parents arranged it, and I'm sure money exchanged hands."

I could feel my eyes widen. I felt like everything I'd ever thought I'd known about my parents' marriage was a made-up version in my head. What was she saying? Had our father basically bought her? Ew…ick. I didn't want to think of him, of them, that way. It made my skin crawl and left a dirty film in its path.

"It was the way things were done back then." She shrugged like it was no big deal. "Your father and I respected each other, and we grew to love each other eventually. I loved him. I did. Was I in love with him? I'm not sure, honestly, and it's something I've thought about over the years. I loved many things about him, but I don't think I was in love with him."

I sat back, stunned.

I didn't know what to say. I remembered my parents laughing together, kissing, there was never any arguing, or none that we had heard between them. Had I just assumed they had been in love with each other? Had I imagined some epic romance of theirs in my head? I was starting to question everything about my life.

"Jamie tells me you've met someone," my mom said softly. "Is he the reason you're so snarly this morning?"

I wanted to smack my baby brother upside his gossipy head. "Jamie has a big mouth."

"Well, yes," she agreed with a small cackle. "And we adore him for it. He's always got the juiciest pieces of gossip to share with me."

She could speak for herself on that one. Adore was not a word I was willing to put in the same sentence with my brother right now. I ran a hand through my sweaty hair, pulling at it and probably making it stand out all over my head. I wanted to get up and pace, my wolf was twitchy and restless beneath my skin. "His name is Quinn. He's…like no one I've ever met before."

My mom clapped – actually clapped her hands – in delighted glee. "Did you have one of those…oh, what are you kids calling them? Meet cutes? Did you two have a meet-cute? "

I choked on the coffee in my mouth, spitting some on my hoodie. "We had the exact opposite of a meet-cute."

I spent the next half hour relaying how Quinn and I had met, and the events that had followed. Well, I left out the part of me fucking him in his bakery kitchen, on top of his tasting table. Because, my mom, and ick.

"He sounds lovely." Was she serious? I'd just told her how he had banned me from his bakery, and she thought he sounded lovely . Whose side was she on anyway?

"He's a pain in the ass!" I snarled. "He's moody and full of sass, and he pretty much does whatever he wants, no matter the consequences. He's independent, headstrong, and stubborn as hell. I think we are fated mates, but he refuses to even discuss the possibility. Won't even say the words!"

I spent another half hour telling her what I'd felt when Quinn and I had touched the first time, and all the other feelings I was now having. The overwhelming need to be with him, to protect him, to see to his well-being, to drown in his scent.

My mom raised a blonde brow at me. "He sounds like he's just what you need."

I stopped in the middle of my venting. "What? What do you mean by that?"

My mom pursed her lips, then sighed a little. "Lachlan, you know I love you. You're my firstborn – "

I rolled my eyes. "If only I'd shoved Brendan out first."

Narrowed brown eyes aimed my way, and I shut my trap. Even at thirty-eight, I cowered at that mom look.

"As I was saying, I love you. But, well, son, you need to let yourself relax , and just be you . Since I can remember, I've felt like you were always hiding parts of yourself away, where no one could see them. You're so closed off sometimes, worried about doing everything so damn perfectly, that you never look like you're having any fun. You needed to be shook up, and your Quinn sounds like he's doing just that. Fate knew what she was doing."

Fate seemed like she was drunk AF, as far as I was concerned. "He tossed me out of his bed! At two in the morning! Who does that? I was sleeping!"

My mom looked at her pink-painted nails, then out the window, then gave a little shrug like I was making a big deal over nothing. I realized she had essentially done the same thing to some poor alpha this morning. "Perhaps he's as confused by all of this as you are, and maybe he needed a bit of breathing space."

Breathing space. The words hit me hard, and probably not in the way my mom meant them to. Lisette had needed breathing space. Nathan, the omega I'd been seeing before Lisette, had told me I was too much. " You're just too much sometimes, Lach. I need to breathe."

"They all say that about me," I mumbled, swirling the dregs of my now cold coffee.

"Who says what about you?" She sounded just like she had when I'd come home from first grade in tears, because some snot-nosed kid had made fun of me. Mama Bear in the house. If she was a bear.

I threw my hands up in the air. "Everyone I've ever dated more than a month. Nathan and Lisette both told me I was ‘too much' ," I used air quotes, "that they needed space to breathe. Fuck, Lisette flat out told me I was too nice and boring for her. How can you even be too nice? Nathan said he felt like I was his dad because I wanted to take care of him. Wanted to make sure he was safe or had dinner if he was working late. Made sure he had a car if he went out with his friends to the club, so he got home safely." Once I started, I couldn't stop my babbling. "I tried the match-making service, and that was a complete disaster! That omega should have been perfect for me, just what I wanted. A traditional house omega, quiet, meek, and it was wrong in every way. "

My mom's eyes narrowed, her mouth turned down. "A traditional house omega? Lachlan, that is the las t thing you need."

"I have a responsibility to our family. As the Alpha, I have a duty," I sputtered. "Quinn is completely the opposite of what I need."

My mom looked annoyed. "Says who?"

"Dad!" I yelled, breathing hard. It was the first time I'd said the words out loud. Pointed a finger. Admitted to myself that I had been living my life in hopes of making a dead man proud.

"Lachlan, your father is dead. And that nonsense he used to spout at you, was just that. Absolute elitist alpha rubbish. I can't tell you how many times he and I fought about that shit he was spouting in your ears. But he was a lot older and set in his ways. I didn't realize it was still affecting you, and I'm sorry for not noticing," she said. "If you love Quinn, then he is exactly what you need."

Love? No one said anything about love. Lust? Yes. A firm desire to get to know him better? Absolutely. Wanting to be buried balls deep in his ass, every second of every day? Sign me the fuck up.

"Slow your roll, lady," I snarked. "We've known each other a hot minute, no one is in love yet. Half the time I'm not even sure he even likes me."

With a tilt of her still blonde head, my mom snickered. "He likes you. From what you've said he wouldn't have agreed to a date with you if he didn't like you."

"He kicked me out of his bed?" I was back to the reason I was pissed. "Who does that?"

"I do," my mom reminded me with a laugh, and I sank down in my seat, defeated and deflated.

"So, what are you doing here?" she questioned. "Go get your omega."

"Have you heard nothing I've just been telling you?" My voice was incredulous .

"Every word." She poured another cup of coffee for herself, leaning a hip against the counter, relaxed and calm and rational. At least one of us was. "Do you know what I see when you talk about Quinn? I see a light in your eyes I haven't seen in, well for a very long time. I see an honest to Goddess smile on your lips, and I see your shoulders relaxed. I see you happy . You need to hold onto all the happiness you can get in this world, Lachlan, for whatever time you have. Hold onto it tight. With whoever gives it to you."

Tears welled in her eyes, and it became crystal clear to me why my mom had never remarried, and why she threw lovers out of her bed, before the light of day. She may question if she had been in love with my dad, but I think she'd just answered that question for me.

"He is testing you, trust me on this. He wants you to stand up to him. If he's feeling anything like you are, he's probably confused and scared," she chided me, practically pushing me out the door, into the cold. "Now, go get your omega. And bring him to Christmas Eve dinner."

Which was how I found myself standing on Quinn's front porch, a pastry box of donuts in my hand, pounding on his door. Well, I'd actually kicked it by accident. When I'd tried to knock and nearly lost the box, I had kicked the door with my foot instead.

I looked down at the box in my hand, from the grocery store, and wondered if it was weird to bring a bakery owner donuts from another shop. I shrugged. It was almost nine, and he needed to eat. I couldn't explain how I knew he needed to eat, but I did. I felt it. I couldn't cook, so donuts it was.

I heard footsteps and the door was yanked open with enough force, it hit the wall behind it. Quinn was standing in front of me, glaring. He was wearing faded gray sweats and a ragged t-shirt. His feet were bare and his hair a mess, still damp from a recent shower. There was just the faintest hint of purplish bruises under his eyes .

He looked sleep rumpled, tired and grumpy, and like the most delectable thing I had ever seen.

He peered at me with bleary eyes. The dark circles under his green eyes, which I'd noticed the night before, seemed darker this morning in the harsh morning sunlight.

"Hi!" I waved the box in his direction, my voice extra cheerful. "I brought breakfast."

He ran a hand over his face. His tone was surly but had some sass in it. "You're back."

I frowned, then moved past him, essentially letting myself in. "I'm back."

He didn't look all that happy to see me, but I was standing my ground.

"Uh, I'm on my way out." He didn't even try to conceal the irritation he was feeling for me. I chose to ignore it.

I glanced at his bare feet. "Without shoes?"

He huffed, annoyed. "Someone started beating my damn door down, and interrupted me."

There were a pair of socks on the couch. A pair of running shoes sat on the floor and a bakery box of something was on the coffee table. Maybe it wasn't a lie just to get rid of me. I set my box on the coffee table, breathing in the scent of him. I loved the smell of this man. Chocolate chip cookies. The scent of cinnamon was stronger this morning and there was an underlying hint of citrus. Hmmm, that was new.

I felt like an idiot when he just kept standing by the open door, staring at me. I ran my now sweaty palms down my jeans. I fought the urge to fidget from one foot to the other. This had been a bad idea. I should have just gone home and nursed my anger with a bottle of something strong. He just kept staring at me, the oddest look on his face .

He was annoyed I was back for sure, but there was something else in the shadows of his eyes. As if he was excited and happy I was back, but he didn't want to acknowledge it. Did he really think I'd just wine, dine, fuck him, and that was it? He tosses me out, and that's the end of it? He never hears from me again?

What was it Jamie called that? Hit it and quit it?

"Do you want me to go?" I took a step towards the still open door, that was letting in the cold December air.

Quinn shut the door before I could make a break for it. I'd just asked him outright what he wanted. I didn't want to second guess him anymore. It was exhausting. He and I were not on the same page about anything. At this point, I'm pretty sure we weren't even reading the same book.

"No, stay." He flopped onto the couch, picking his socks up. "I'm sorry, I'm just tired. I didn't expect you to come back. It threw me for a loop."

I let his words sink into my brain. He had thought once he threw me out, he wouldn't see me again, at least not today. Is that what he was used to? Is that what he wanted?

Once his shoes and socks were on, he lifted the lid of the box I had brought, snagging a cinnamon and sugar twist. His stomach rumbled and I smiled. I'd known he was hungry. He took a bite, brushing at the sugar that fell on his shirt, his face blissful. "These are my favorites. Ever since I was a kid."

I sat next to him on the couch, snagging a glazed donut. "Yeah? I wasn't sure, so I just picked my favorites. It's not weird I brought donuts?"

He shook his head, taking another bite. "It's a little weird you came back. But the donuts aren't weird. I don't make donuts at the bakery, and these are really good. Nice and fresh. Fresh donuts are my weakness." I filed that bit of information away for future reference. "It's really…sweet of you. Thank you. "

I bet that thank you had hurt. He flashed me an almost shy smile, and my heart pounded in my chest. Those. I wanted more of those smiles. It was like catching a glimpse of a side of Quinn that few people were privileged to see and get to know.

We finished our donuts in silence, both of us gobbling up a second one, before I asked, "Were you really on your way out?"

Somewhere between the talk with my mom, my own internal journey of self-discovery – still had a long way to go with that – and Quinn allowing me back into his space, my anger had died down to smoldering embers.

My mom was right. Quinn did make me happy. I don't know what it was about him, being near him. It made me feel warm inside, relaxed, and a little joyful. When I was near him, it was as if whatever was wrong in my world, shifted, and all the pieces just fit . We hadn't had the best start, and things were moving faster than any crazy amusement park ride I'd ever been on, but I didn't want the ride to end yet.

He swallowed the last bite of donut. "Yeah, I go see my grandmother every Sunday, for a couple of hours. It's our thing."

"That's nice." I felt that familiar pang in my chest, whenever anyone talked about their grandparents. I don't know why I always felt like my brothers and I had missed out on something great by not knowing our grandparents, but I did. Our paternal grandfather was the only one I remembered at all, vaguely. He'd owned the department store, and had spent more time with Brendan than any of us, but he'd passed shortly after our dad. I remembered him as a distant, cold, standoffish man.

Too much television and movies, I imagined. The sitcoms that portrayed all grandparents as loving and all-knowing creatures. In reality, mine would have probably been nothing like that. At least that's what I told myself, whenever I felt that ache in my chest. A longing for something I'd never known but wanted desperately .

Quinn grabbed a third donut, and my wolf howled in glee. Quinn was too skinny. He was lovely, and his body was long and lean, but he could do with a good ten to fifteen pounds added to his frame.

"You want to come along?" he asked suddenly, and by the look on his face, I think he even shocked himself with the offer. "We won't stay long. I need to go into the bakery today and work on some orders. I'm sure you have stuff you need to do, too. Laundry, or washing your hair. Something."

I jumped at his invitation. "Yes!"

He jerked a little at my excited tone. Goddess, I needed to get a grip on myself. I'm not sure what it was about this man that made me act like a different person. The in-control, tightly reined in alpha disappeared, and was replaced by an over-eager puppy.

"Okay, calm down." He pursed his lips, snagging his fourth donut. Were his legs hollow? I couldn't even eat a fourth donut. I wasn't about to say anything, he needed the calories and fat. "It's not that exciting. Gigi is not your average grandma, and these old ladies are a handful. So just be prepared."

"I run a multi-million-dollar business." I shot him an amused look, one eyebrow raised. "I think I can handle some older ladies."

He snorted, licking the sugar from his fingers. "Famous last words. And don't get suckered into their poker games," he warned. "They'll take your money, and not feel a bit sorry about it."

Since Quinn had plans to go into the bakery after he visited with his grandmother, we drove separate cars, with me following him. I had tried to gently persuade him to skip going into the bakery, suggesting a naked nap with a waggle of my eyebrows .

He'd laughed at me, the Quinn who had kicked me out of his bed seemed to have vanished. He'd not taken me up on the nap offer, saying he needed to get a start on the orders for the upcoming week.

We parked at the retirement community, and I took the container of cookies he'd brought from his hands when he exited his car. He huffed at me. It was his slightly annoyed, but not angry yet, huff. I just grinned at him, making an ‘after you' nod with my head.

My mouth watered as I watched his plump little ass sway in his raggedy sweatpants. Who knew sweatpants could look that good? I imagined his little round butt filling out more with the donuts he'd scarfed down like a starving man, and grinned to myself.

"Were you watching my ass?" He tried to sound stern and annoyed as he reached for the door, pulling it open before I could reach for it.

I shot him a wolfish grin, "I absolutely was."

He just shook his head at me, walking into the building, but there was a slight blush on his high cheekbones.

I followed, still watching his ass as it bounced in those damn sweats of his. I couldn't remember if I'd ever outright stared at anyone's ass as much as I did his, but I wasn't going to deny it. Or stop looking.

The room we stepped into was big and airy, and filled with natural light from the floor to ceiling windows that adorned one wall. Voices carried over the sound of a television playing, and loud, raucous laughter came from a corner.

Quinn headed to that corner and stopped in front of a large table, where six older women sat around it, playing cards in all their hands. Cards were thrown down in miffed irritation, and a redheaded woman threw her hands up in the air in triumph. She gave a gleeful shout, as she raked the pile of money from the middle of the table towards her .

Her green eyes landed on Quinn. "Quinny baby, you're finally here. I was about to send out the National Guard."

Quinn leaned down and kissed her cheek. "I'm ten minutes late, Gigi. Don't be so dramatic."

She gave me a once over, from head to toe, and I fought the urge to squirm under her sharp gaze. She and her grandson had the exact same sharp-eyed glare. It was clear where Quinn got his green eyes. I'd bet his mom had the same eyes too.

Without taking her eyes from me, she snorted, "You're a half-hour late, I'll be as dramatic as I damn well please. If sex on a stick over there is the reason, you're forgiven."

Quinn rolled his matching green eyes. "Donuts are the reason." Pointing to the container I was holding, he said, "We brought your cookies."

"Well set them down, you tall drink of water," she purred at me in a sultry voice. "Just put them on the table anywhere."

I did as I was told, a smile I couldn't get rid of plastered to my face. I was beginning to see where my Quinn got his snark from. This woman was full of sass. Sex on a stick?

Gigi stood, no taller than five feet, but she carried herself as if she was seven feet tall.

Her shoulder-length bob was a deep, dark red, that shone overly bright. I wasn't sure if it was natural or had been helped along by her hairdresser. I'd been raised with enough manners to know not to ask.

She wore a bright purple kaftan, and several gold bangles adorned each wrist. They jangled pleasantly as she came to stand in front of me.

She looked me up and down, and up again. I wasn't sure what to do, so I just stood there, looking down at her. Trying very hard not to fidget like a naughty schoolboy, caught doing something he shouldn't be .

"Lachlan Sinclair." She pursed her ruby red lips. "I know your mother. She's a lovely woman."

I blinked, clearing my throat. "You know my mother?" I managed to squeak out, not overly surprised that she knew who I was.

"Boy, I was at her baby shower when she was pregnant with the lot of you. A bigger pregnant belly I don't think I've ever seen. I thought that poor girl was just going to pop."

I had no idea what to say. My mom had given birth to four of us at once, and I'd seen pictures of her pregnant. She was huge.

Quinn stood behind his grandmother. "Gigi, stop. You're embarrassing me."

She snorted, clapping her hands. "You two are going to make beautiful babies."

"Oh. My. God!" Quinn exclaimed, his cheeks flaming with color. "Stop it! No babies."

"Thank you," I told her sincerely because she was right. God, a little boy who looked just like Quinn would be wonderful. I'd love a little girl, in all honesty, but I knew not to wish for that. Not in my family

Gigi cackled, and I found I liked the sound of it, and also the rosy blush that was now covering Quinn's cheeks. He was breathtakingly beautiful when he was blushing. Gigi took me by the arm, stroking it lightly. "Tell me, Lachlan, do you play poker?"

My brothers and I had a monthly game, along with a few friends, and I considered myself a decent player. "I do."

"Quinn, I'm stealing your man." She led me to an empty chair, and with a surprising – and a smidge terrifying – shove, pushed me down into it.

"He's not my man!" Quinn hissed.

"Am so!" I tossed back, just because I wanted to rile him up. As far as I was concerned, I was his man. I was sure going to try to be anyway. We were fated mates, I felt it in every fiber of my body, even if Quinn wanted to deny it.

Fate had spoken and deemed it so. Hmmm…kind of like the I licked it, so it was mine rule. Yeah, that worked.

An hour later, I was down three hundred dollars and wasn't sure how it had happened. Gigi could blush and flirt her way around a hand of nothing, like a professional gambler. Having watched Quinn yawn for the third time, and then rub at his temples, I pushed back from the table. It was time to let all my alpha instincts have free reign, and get my omega home for a nap. Whether he thought he needed one or not. I could feel his exhaustion.

Gigi placed a wrinkled hand on my arm, halting my movement. "I'm going to give you some advice on my grandson." Her voice was soft, and almost a whisper. Quinn would still be able to hear her, if he tried with his shifter ears. I was certainly listening. I'd take any and all advice when it had to do with Quinn Rafferty. "Quinn doesn't need an alpha."

"I…" She interrupted whatever protest was going to spill from my mouth.

"What I mean by that is, if Quinn lets you in, it's because he wants you to be there. He doesn't need you, he wants you there. There is a difference. Think on that."

I let her words sink in. Really sink in.

"He doesn't need you to protect him, guide him, order him around, or whatever nonsense is the latest alpha trend in behavior nowadays. He doesn't need you to provide for him, he can do that on his own. And on his next birthday, he definitely won't need any alpha's bank account. Not even a bank account as fat as a Sinclair's."

A frown marred my brow. "His next birthday? "

She smirked at me. "You don't know? Hmmm…" She tapped a perfectly manicured finger against her lips.

"Good, that's good. It's not my secret to tell. Anyhoo…" She waved a hand in the air. "Quinn has never brought anyone here with him, not even that asshat he dated for far longer than he should have. I was glad to see the last of him, let me tell you. But here you are." She raised a brow at me, and I didn't dare interrupt her.

"That means something, even if Quinn hasn't figured it out yet. He's a stubborn one, that boy. Likes to do things his own way. Always takes the hard road. Don't let him push you away, Lachlan. Because he will try to push you as far away as he can."

"Preaching to the choir." I snorted.

"Oh yes, you'll do grandly! My Quinny probably doesn't know what hit him." She nodded her redhead in approval.

"I think I'm the one that doesn't know what hit him, to be honest," I told her, because I liked her, and what did I have to lose. This woman knew Quinn better than anyone, including Wade. "Since our first meeting, I can't stop wanting to be near him. He makes me act…well, not like myself."

She stared at me for a long minute, and I was back to wanting to squirm like a six-year-old. "Fate."

I stared at her with startled eyes. "How…?"

"I'm old, boy, I've seen lots of things in my time." She chortled again. "Beautiful babies, like I said. Lachlan, Quinn acts the way he does because it's easier."

I frowned at her, not sure I understood. "If he pushes you away, then you left first. Before he could get attached. Before he could care . It's easier on him and doesn't hurt as much. He needs a strong alpha, but he needs an alpha who knows when to let him be, who lets him do things his way. But he also needs one who – well, to put it bluntly – who will call him on his shit."

I nibbled on my bottom lip, my head nodding. "I think I understand. I'm going to try my best."

"Good man." She pulled me down, and I went willingly, feeling her dry lips brush my cheek.

"You come back and see me, anytime."

"I will," I whispered, emotion clogging my throat and making my words sound like sandpaper.

I noticed Quinn was rubbing his temples again when we went to leave, and I asked him if he had a headache.

"Just a small one. I'm just tired."

"Why don't we just go back to your place?" I suggested, trying one more time. "I think you could use a nap."

He shook his head, his russet curls bouncing. "I need to go to the bakery. I have to get started on the dough for the sugar cookies. It needs to refrigerate, and there's tons to make. If I make it today, the first batches will be ready for us tomorrow morning."

"Great!" I said, overly cheerful. "I'll come with you and help."

The look of horror on his face made me laugh loudly. "Wow! I didn't know anyone's eyebrows could get that high."

"No one is allowed in my bakery kitchen." Each word was enunciated sharply.

"Need I remind you that not only have I been in your kitchen, but I made you come in your kitchen. Several times."

He rubbed a hand across his face. "I had to use so much bleach to clean up that mess."

I rubbed my hands together gleefully, feeling lighter than I had in longer than I could remember. The anxiety-riddled ball that was usually lodged in my chest was wonderfully absent. "Come on. It'll be fun, and you'll get done faster. Then we can Netflix and chill."

I was pushing hard to spend more time with Quinn, and I wanted – needed – him to know that I wasn't just going to disappear. I wanted him. I wanted to be near him. I wanted to get to know him. To know everything there was to know, good, bad, sassy, and even the bitchy, moody parts.

I wasn't going anywhere.

His green eyes regarded me skeptically. "Do you even know what Netflix and chill means?"

"We watch movies and chill." Duh.

"Nope, so not what it means." He was laughing at me.

"Really?"

We'd reached our respective cars now, but I didn't want today to end just yet. "Huh. Well, how does a movie and just chilling sound then? Comfy clothes, snuggling on the couch? After we make the dough, of course."

He stared at me, and I held my breath. Waiting for him to huff, and tell me no in his snarky, biting way. Instead, he just quietly said, "Okay."

Just like that? I shouldn't be surprised. I'd already come to understand that he was moody, and those moods tended to change with the blowing wind. "Okay?"

He unlocked his car door and swung his tall frame into the driver's seat.

"Yes, okay. Don't make it a thing , and don't make me regret this." He pointed one long finger at me. "You don't touch anything unless I tell you to. Better yet just sit and…" He waved a hand at me. "Play on your phone, do work-type things. Answer emails. Play Candy Crush. Whatever it is you corporate types do all day."

I moved to my SUV, unlocking my car door. I raised two fingers to my brow, in a salute. "No touching cookie dough. Got it."

He hadn't said I couldn't touch him, though.