14. Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

Quinn

I watched Lachlan from the corner of my eye, as my mixer whipped up the dough for the sugar cookies. I started another mixer with a different batch, this one chocolate, swapping out some of the flour for cocoa powder. The flying cocoa powder caught his attention, and he stopped pecking at things on his phone.

"Is that chocolate?" I think the man could sniff chocolate out a mile away.

"Yes. Cocoa powder is a pain in the ass." I waved a hand in the air. "It flies everywhere."

"Chocolate sugar cookies?" His voice was dreamy. This man and his sweet tooth. "You make chocolate sugar cookies?"

"Yes." I wasn't paying too much attention to him, as I busily measured ingredients from the recipe I kept in my head. I could do this in my sleep, and it felt like I had on many occasions.

"How did I not know this?" He sounded genuinely hurt. Like a whole new world had been opened up for him, and no one had told him it was even possible. A world filled with dreams of chocolate sugar cookies .

"Wade knows. Blame him."

"My PA and I will be having words on Monday about this," he muttered. I watched him nibbling his lip, pondering. I could almost see his brain whirling. "Can you add…"

I held up a hand to stop him. "I already added them to the brunch. After I saw how well you…like chocolate." I'd already swapped some of his Christmas cookie order with chocolate ones, knowing he wouldn't mind. My guess had been right.

I sighed as the mixers did their thing, and placed my hands on my lower back, stretching. I rubbed absently at my temples. My mild, barely-there headache had decided it was tired of being ignored. My head was throbbing. I was sure it was due to the exhaustion that seemed to plague me the last few days, and the stress of the holidays. Plus all the mental drama that had taken up residence in my brain since first meeting Lachlan.

Lachlan got up and headed out of the kitchen. I figured he was going to the bathroom and was correct. He returned with a bottle of water and held his hand out to me. In his palm rested two pain relievers.

"Take these for your head," he instructed, opening the water and holding it out to me.

I wanted to argue just to let him know he wasn't the boss of me, but I tossed the pills to the back of my throat and washed them down with the cool water.

"Did you pay for that water?" I sassed, turning off the mixers and covering the bowls with plastic wrap. "Things aren't free here. They cost money."

"Left a five on the counter," he snarked right back, his eyes trailing me as I placed the dough in the industrial fridge. His heated gaze fixated on my ass had me smiling. Not that I let him see the smirk on my lips. "You about ready to head home? "

I sighed, cleaning up ingredients and wiping counters. I should stay and do a couple more batches, even though I'd gotten us a good head start. I was too tired, though, and my head was killing me, along with my back and feet.

"Yes, but I get to pick the movie." If we were going to my place to movie watch and chill, I was pulling rank on what we were going to watch.

"Of course," he said, as he followed me out the back and I locked up. "How about a hot bath, some food, and then a movie?"

I gawked at him, stopping dead in my tracks. Because who was this man? Did alphas do things like this? Maybe they did. Was this part of their protective nature, which I'd always found to be overbearing and too possessive? Because what he had just offered sounded amazing.

I mean, I always thought my dad was just an exception to the rule. He worshiped my mom, for all her zaniness, and always let her – and me, for that matter – do what we loved. He never tried to stifle us, or use his alpha voice on us to get us to do what he wanted.

If my dad was an exception, could Lachlan also be an exception? Not counting our first meeting, which he'd said was out of character for him, he'd been rather nice. Sweet. Charming. Sexy.

He'd made it clear he had no problem with me owning my own business, and working. Had even seemed rather proud of it on our date when we'd run into Leo. He certainly seemed to have no issue with me taking control in the bedroom, and was open to experimenting with new things. But would he change his tune if we got more involved? He had been open with Wade that he was looking for a traditional omega.

Something I wasn't and had no plans to ever be.

What was that fluttering in my belly when he'd asked the question? A hot bath, food, a movie. Shit, maybe he meant for me to run him the bath and cook him food. That seemed like a traditional alpha thing, and I felt myself bristle a little thinking about it.

"I'll start the bath for you when we get to your place." It was almost as if he'd read my mind. "You can relax in the tub while I order us some food. No one wants to eat my cooking."

He looked a little sheepish, his smile a bit crooked, and it did something to my insides.

"It's bad," he continued. "Really, really bad. The bath should help your headache. Put some pj's on, and we can eat while we watch a movie. Sound good?"

Good didn't even come close to describing how it fucking sounded. It sounded like heaven . Damn him.

"It sounds good." My voice was soft, a huge lump in my throat.

I was somewhat ashamed of the previous thoughts I'd had about his intentions. That and I was overcome with so many emotions, and I had not one fucking clue what to do with any of them. I'd been running scared this morning when I'd asked him to leave. Tossed him out, you tossed him out, Quinn. I could feel the swirling emotions beginning to engulf me again, but I did my best to push them aside and not freak the fuck out.

When we reached my house, I pulled my car into the garage, then waited while Lachlan parked in my drive. I closed the garage door, and he followed me up the walk to my porch. Once inside, we pulled our shoes off by the front door.

"I'm going to start your bath." His voice carried as he made his way down the hall, back to my bedroom. "What sounds good for dinner?"

"Pizza?" I followed him into my bedroom, sitting on the bed. I watched him in my bathroom as he searched my cabinets for Goddess only knew what. It felt odd sitting there doing nothing, while he fiddled around in my personal space .

He poked his head out from under my vanity cabinet. "Do you not have any bubble bath? Or candles?"

Say what now? Well, that solved the mystery. I chewed on my thumbnail. "Negative Ghost Rider. On both."

He sighed like I'd told him Santa wasn't real and stood to his full height. "We'll have to do something about that, for next time."

Next time? I chewed some more on my nail. I would not freak out, I would not freak out.

I watched him test the temperature of the water with his hand before he came back into the bedroom. "As for dinner I'll never say no to pizza. Sausage, pepperoni, veggie?"

"All the meat." My mouth watered the same time my stomach rumbled, reminding me we had skipped lunch. Well, I had inhaled four donuts that morning, so I hadn't been that hungry. I usually forgot to eat when I was super busy.

"Thank God you didn't say veggie." He grinned, going back and shutting the water off. "I'll get the pizza ordered, while you get in the tub. I'll bring you something to drink."

He planted a soft kiss on top of my curls and left me to it. I stared at the empty doorway. I could hear the soft murmur of his voice as he ordered dinner and the opening and closing of my fridge. He seemed perfectly comfortable in my space. Sitting there another few seconds, taking it all in, I found myself comfortable with him in my space.

I stripped quickly in the bathroom and sank into the tub with a grateful sigh. The hot water surrounded me, instantly relaxing me, and working on my sore muscles. My headache was down to a dull throb. I laid my head back and closed my eyes. "Do not freak out," I whispered to myself .

"Pizza will be here in twenty." Lachlan's deep, quiet voice startled me out of the doze I hadn't known I'd fallen into. I jerked a little, splashing water. "I ordered garlic bread too, the kind with the cheese on it. Because cheese."

I closed my eyes again. "Yum. I'm starving." I felt his hand moving the water, and I cracked an eye open. He was lathering up soap on a washcloth.

"Are you going to wash me?" I snorted, because really? No one had ever done any of this for me. I'd been washing myself since I was five.

"Lean forward." He ignored my snort and pushed gently at my shoulders. I did as instructed and he ran the soapy rag over my shoulders, kneading my tight muscles as he went. I exhaled and felt the tension drain from me once more. I was right, this was heaven. I let him wash me. He was so tender, touching me like I was a fragile child he was afraid he was going to break. He kept it cursory over my good parts. Honestly, I was too tired to even get more than a passing tingle when the cloth ran over my limp dick and hole.

His sure strokes soothed me, and I was sleepy and punch drunk by the time he had me rinsed, and wrapped in a fluffy, soft towel. He gently dried me, then asked me which drawer had my pajamas in them. I pointed, instructing him where to look, and he came back with my softest, warmest green plaid pajama pants. He knelt at my feet, and I held onto his broad shoulder while stepping into the leg openings. Once he had my pants on me, he steered me toward the living room.

The doorbell rang, and he went to retrieve the pizza, while I gathered plates and napkins, along with a drink for him to go with the water he had brought me in the bath. I picked up the remote and pulled up one of my streaming services.

"We could watch a Christmas movie," I suggested because it was the season. And because I loved Christmas .

He studied me for a minute, giving my suggestion serious thought. " Die Hard ?"

I stared at him, hard. "You think ‘Die Hard' is a Christmas movie?"

A lot was riding on his answer. There were people who thought Die Hard' was a Christmas movie, and then there were people who were just wrong. His answer might be a deal-breaker for me, no matter how he was starting to make me feel.

Fate could suck it if he got this very important question wrong.

"It's the best, most badass Christmas movie ever."

I bent at my knees, exhaling the breath I hadn't known I was holding. "Oh, thank fuck."

He laughed at my dramatic antics, but this was a serious subject. I didn't want to have to argue about ‘Die Hard' every Christmas. But I would. I totally would. Not that we would be spending this Christmas together, or any other. I needed to roll that train back to the station.

I started the movie, and we ate our pizza and garlic bread in companionable silence. It was nice, for lack of a better word. It wasn't awkward and neither of us felt the need to fill the silence with inane small talk. We just watched the movie and ate pizza.

It was comfortable.

When we'd cleaned up the remnants of dinner, Lachlan planted himself on one end of my couch. He reached for one of my eggplant-colored throw pillows and placed it on his lap. He gestured for me to lay down, my head on the pillow, my long limbs stretched out on the sofa. He tossed the fuzzy blanket I kept on the back of the couch over me, and I sighed softly, wriggling until I was comfortable.

I wasn't a cuddler by nature. It had just never been my thing. It always seemed like no one really fit together the way they were supposed to. It was always like trying to stick wrong puzzle pieces into slots they didn't go in. It was more hassle than it was worth, so I just didn't do it. That wasn't the case with Lachlan. Everything seemed to know right where to fit, our pieces sliding in together perfectly.

He ran his hands through my hair, massaging lightly, and it felt so good I nearly moaned. My headache was down to a manageable level, still there but not impeding my ability to function. Lachlan's fingers on my scalp pushed it to the background.

We stayed like that for a few minutes, me slowly starting to drift off. I was so relaxed, I felt boneless, and the gunfire from the movie was just white noise. Lachlan's soft question had my eyes flying open.

"What happens on your birthday?"

I sat up straight, peering at him owlishly, feeling my entire body tense at his question. "Who told you about my birthday?"

"Gigi. She mentioned something happening on your birthday."

"She talks too much." She didn't, and I wasn't mad at her, but this was a trigger topic for me after what had happened with Leo.

Lachlan laughed. "She does not. That woman has secrets and agendas like a spy. I bet she knows everything about everything in this town."

I rolled my eyes. "She needs to stop. Seriously."

"Is it true you've never taken anyone with you on Sundays to see her?"

"It's true. You were here already, so…" It was bullshit and we both knew it. I could have asked him to leave. I didn't owe it to him to tell him where I'd been going. I don't know why I even asked him to tag along in the first place. The words had just flown out of my mouth on their own.

"You could have sent me on my way. Like you did this morning in bed."

He'd called me out. Damn him.

He pushed me back down gently to the spot I'd been laying on, and started up the hair-stroking, scalp massage thing. It had me forgetting the movie, and any questions he had asked. The man had good fingers, that was a fact.

"I could have," I agreed, not giving him any more than that.

"So, your birthday?" he pushed. "When is it?"

"April."

"And what happens in April? Do you turn into a pumpkin?"

I snorted. "No, that only happens when I stay up past my bedtime, remember?" Which, I glanced at the clock on the wall, had already happened. I was glad I'd gone into the bakery today, and gotten a head start on things.

He pinched my butt, and I yelped.

"Hey!" I turned my head and glared at him.

"Answer the question." He used his alpha voice and I wanted to tell him all my secrets. Might as well see his reaction to what I was going to say.

"I will gain access to my trust fund," I told him, turning my attention back to the screen like it was no big deal. I'd focus on Hans Gruber. God, Alan Rickman was fucking sexy as hell.

"Ah." That was all he said, nothing more. His voice had almost sounded bored. What did that mean?

"It's seven figures," I added.

"Okay."

I don't know what I was expecting, but his one-word responses were not it.

"So, seven figures for you also?" I finally said.

His thumb came up and he pointed it skyward.

"Eight?" I squeaked.

The thumb moved up again. Is this how most people had "the money" talk in relationships? Using hand signals?

"Oh, for fuck's sake," I muttered, and I felt the vibration of his laugh in his limbs that I was laying across .

He reached down and I felt a soft kiss against my temple. It was soft and brief, and just everything . Butterfly kisses that I'd never imagined I'd want, but made my insides go as gooey as a cookie straight from the oven.

"Billions." Another one-word answer.

Wait, what? I shot up again, peering at him in the dark, the only light coming from the glow of the TV screen.

"B. Billions. Sinclair billions," he corrected me, still sounding bored. "Ten figures."

I gulped air loudly. Well…alrighty then.

"Wow." Now I was reduced to one-word answers. I'd know the Sinclair's were rich, there was no other word for it. Everyone in town knew it. I hadn't known they were that rich.

He pushed me down once more, and again I didn't resist, just went where he wanted me. "That's all of us as a whole. The Sinclairs, I mean," he clarified. "My brothers and I are each wealthy in our own rights, individually. We also had trust funds, investments, jobs, so we're not all worth the same amount separately."

"What are your plans for the money?" he asked as the end credits rolled on the screen.

"Expand the business," I told him. "Hire more staff. Get a delivery van and driver, and build our delivery service. Invest some of it, so it's making me more money, hopefully."

I wasn't a novice when it came to money and investing, but I did tend to lean towards the conservative side when it came to investing. It drove my risk-taking Dad nuts. I just hated seeing a negative sign on my quarterly statements. My Dad always said you need to go aggressive on some things, and the positives will make up the negatives in the long run. Be patient. My impatient ass didn't like to wait for the long run. I wanted positive across the board .

"How do you make deliveries now?" Lachlan sounded interested, and not just making small talk.

"Josh has an old van, and we use it. I have magnetic door signs we toss on it, with our logo. But this thing looks like Scooby and the Gang should be rolling out of it, a cloud of questionable smoke in their wake."

Lachlan snickered. "Sounds like you have a good plan for what you need to do. I'm glad to hear you plan to hire more staff."

"I'm such a control freak in my kitchen," I told him honestly. It was going to kill me to hire more bakers and have them underfoot when I was in the kitchen. "It's going to make me an absolute nutball."

Josh was different somehow. He'd been my first hire and we'd become close friends, even though we were complete opposites. I stressed and he stayed calm. We balanced each other out somehow. He hadn't been hired as a baker, but he'd watched and asked questions and started training. He was good and having another pair of hands had been a major help. Especially with the business exploding as it had.

But it wasn't enough. I knew it wasn't enough. We were going to be working ourselves into the ground this entire month, and we couldn't keep that pace up for long. If everything went right, we'd have another baker, maybe two, this time next year.

"You don't say? I hadn't noticed," Lachlan said, with a straight face.

I swatted at his thigh playfully. "I can't help it! It's my baby. My recipes. I need them to be done correctly. People expect a certain quality and taste from The Sweet Spot, and not everybody can replicate it."

"I'm not arguing with you. I agree with you. But you can't keep up this pace, even if it's slower during the downtimes. You need a life. You need sleep. Delegate. Teach any new person, until they have your recipes perfected. You may not find the right person at first, so be prepared to go through several, before you find the right fit. "

"Ugh, that's what I'm afraid of. I'm going to go through a bunch of people to find one good one."

"That's business."

"I've been spoiled with my hires. They've all been great from the start." I let out a loud yawn. I needed to get to bed. I was going to be dead on my feet tomorrow, but I didn't want this day to end. I liked being with him.

"Come on, let's get you to bed." He nudged me up with his leg. "It's way past your bedtime."

I stood, stretching, and popping my back. "Are you going to tuck me in?" I teased.

He folded the blanket and placed it where I kept it on the back of the couch.

"Yes." He followed me into my bedroom, and I didn't know what to do with myself. I hadn't been tucked in since I was about ten years old. Did I just get in bed, under the covers?

What was the tucking someone in protocol?

I slid between my blankets and sheets, settling on my pillow. Lachlan sat on the edge of the bed, his hip by my thigh. "When can I see you again?"

I mentally went over my schedule for the upcoming week. I wanted to see him, even if it surprised me that I felt that way. The date had been wonderful, and the sex after was mind-blowing. My behavior after was not so great. But he'd come back and today had been good.

It had been easy.

It had been really wonderful.

I'd expected it to be stressful, or awkward, but it hadn't been. Conversation came easily between us, as did the silences. Beyond a few chaste kisses nothing today had been remotely sexual, and he seemed okay with that. He'd genuinely seemed happy playing cards with Gigi, and watching me in my kitchen, at the small table I'd parked him at. He'd let me do my thing, without interference, or being annoyed.

He'd taken care of me tonight, seen to my needs first and that had been…. everything . I was still processing how it all made me feel. It was so different from anything I'd experienced before, with anyone.

"I'd like to say tomorrow, but full disclosure I'm going to be so busy this week, I will probably just come home and collapse. I won't be fit company for anyone. So realistically, probably not until we make the delivery for your office brunch on Friday."

Leo would have thrown a fit at not seeing me for a week, and I reminded myself that Lachlan wasn't Leo. Lachlan was like no one I'd ever met before. He made me feel things I'd never felt before. He made me want things I'd never wanted before or had ever even thought I'd want.

It was too soon for all of the crazy emotions I was feeling. Too fast. It was confusing and terrifying and thrilling, and way too fast. I desperately wanted more of it, even while a small part of me wanted to run in the opposite direction.

He kissed my forehead, in one of his barely felt kisses. Just his warm lips barely brushing against my skin, yet my toes curled.

"I'll see you Friday then," he whispered, pecking my lips for one last taste. "I will text you though. If you're busy just respond when you can. It will make me feel better. Call it an alpha thing, I guess. I just want to make sure you haven't collapsed into baked goods and need rescuing."

"Would you be rescuing me or the baked goods?" I joked.

He smirked and moved one hand in a back-and-forth motion. "Fifty-fifty. Might depend on what baked goods you fall face-first into. If it comes down between you and the scones, well…"

I barked out a laugh and gave his arm a shove. "I'll see you Friday. "

I wanted to grab his hand and ask him to get in bed with me, even if it was only to wrap me in all of him and sleep. I wanted to feel his strong arms, corded with those thick muscles around me. Wanted to feel his hot breath ghosting against the back of my neck, as we both slipped into sleep. Wanted to feel his cock nestled in the crack of my ass. Wanted to be surrounded by the scent of him on my skin.

Thankfully, before I could voice any of those thoughts, Lachlan slipped quietly from my bedroom. I heard him slip out the front door and the rattle of the knob, as he checked to make sure the door locked behind him. It was a small gesture, yet it made me feel protected, cherished, and adored.

I huffed into my pillow, annoyed with myself and all these feelings I was having. It wasn't me, and I wasn't in a good head space right now to process any of it. Nope, I was going to sleep, and wouldn't think about him for the next few days.

My cat snickered at me. Even he knew I was lying.