17. Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen

Quinn

My eyes flew open in the darkness. It took me a minute to figure out what had woken me up from the exhausted sleep I'd fallen into hours earlier. My stomach rolled, a low pain shooting through it. My mouth watered, and I moaned, lurching up and out of my bed quickly.

I barely made it to the bathroom, falling to my knees in front of the toilet, as hot bile spewed from my mouth. I gasped for air when it was finally over, falling onto the cool tiles of my bathroom floor. Heat had flooded through me, but now I was shivering.

Fuck. What was that?

Had I eaten something that didn't agree with me? My head pounded, and I laid there with my eyes closed, shivering, but too exhausted to get up and move back to my warm bed. What had I eaten? I couldn't even remember what I'd eaten yesterday. I'd skipped dinner, too tired to care. I'd come home and passed out in my bed.

I floated for a time, caught between sleep and consciousness, before deciding maybe I was done puking. It had only been the one time, and I was starting to feel a little better. So probably not food poisoning, then .

I reached up with a shaky hand to feel my forehead. I didn't feel like I had a fever.

Weird. I usually didn't randomly puke my guts up unless I was really drunk. I rarely got the stomach flu, but I must have caught some kind of bug.

I stood up on shaky legs, grasping the sink, and rinsing my mouth out with cold water. I looked at myself in the mirror, grimacing at the sight. I was pale, my eyes dimmed. Dark, purple bruises had taken up residence under my eyes. I was exhausted, and it showed. I looked like shit. Maybe this was just my body's way of telling me it had had enough.

I couldn't seem to get enough sleep last week. I went to bed tired and woke up tired. I'd be glad to get through the rest of December and the holidays. Maybe we'd close for a few days between Christmas and New Year's. Josh and the girls could use a break, and I just wanted to sleep for a week. It didn't seem to matter if I got four hours or ten hours of sleep each night, I woke up feeling like I hadn't slept any. Any naps I caught in between just seemed to make it worse.

I dragged myself back to my bed, one hand on my still iffy stomach. My head was pounding, but I was afraid to take anything for it. I wasn't sure if I'd just puke it back up and didn't want to risk it. I just wanted to go back to sleep. I crawled under the warm blankets, my eyes already drifting shut.

I wanted Lachlan. My eyes flew open at that thought.

I'd thought it when I was hunched over, praying to the porcelain god, as I held my hair back from my face. I'd wished Lachlan was there, to hold my hair, rub my back, whisper I was going to be ok.

To put a cool, damp rag on the back of my burning neck. To carry me back to bed, because my legs were shaking, trembling and unsteady .

What was the man doing to me? I never wanted anyone when I was not feeling well. The few times I'd ever been sick, even as a kid, I'd just wanted to be left alone.

I wanted him now, though.

Wished he was in my bed, stroking my hair back from my hot, sweaty, yet clammy skin. Running a hand over my aching, cramping stomach, soothing me.

I closed my eyes, telling myself I needed to get over my delirium before tomorrow, and the festival.

I didn't have time for some mysterious illness. I just needed some sleep.

I showed up at our booth at the festival the next morning, a half-hour late. I'd had trouble getting out of bed. I'd had to stop to puke two more times, before I could muster the energy to shower and get dressed. I'd been halfway out my front door when I'd had to rush back into my house. I'd ended up puking in my kitchen sink since it was closer than my bathroom.

I'd told myself I'd check in with Josh, see how I felt, and if I needed to just sit in a chair and run the register, I could manage that. I didn't feel like I had a fever, or any other symptoms, besides exhaustion and a couple of random bouts of puking. I had a throbbing headache though, but I figured I was slightly dehydrated from the vomiting. I'd barely puked anything up the last time, mostly stomach acid and dry heaving.

It didn't feel like the flu, or food poisoning. Maybe it was just stress. I'd been freaking myself out about telling Lachlan how I felt about kids and thinking he would walk away. Normally the thought of that happening wouldn't have fazed me, but Lachlan had turned my life on its head. Every time I thought about what would happen when I'd think about him ending things, I'd become breathless and shaky, and my cat would howl in misery .

That was part of the reason I'd started googling facts on fated mates. I'd needed to have some kind of explanation for all the things I was feeling, and for why I'd been the emotional, crazy wreck I'd been becoming around him.

"Jesus, you look like shit," Josh told me when I entered our booth. I tried to smile but knew it was a weak attempt, and it felt like a grimace.

"Thanks." At least I hadn't felt the need to throw up on the drive over. Being out in the cold air was helping some.

He shoved a cup beneath my nose. "Coffee?"

I flinched sharply away from the smell, moaning. Fuck. So much for being over it. "No."

I gulped, trying to get some air into my lungs.

"Quinn, seriously, you look like you're gonna hurl."

I held up a hand, shutting my eyes tightly, and taking steadying breaths through my nose. Finally, the nausea backed off. I reached into the little fridge and grabbed a lemon lime soda. Popping the top, I took a sip.

Josh put his hands on his hips. "Now I know you're sick. You never drink soda."

It was true, I seldom did, unless it had alcohol in it. I was a coffee fiend, and I mostly stuck with water later in the day.

"I think I'm just tired, or stressed, or both. I'll be okay." My voice sounded rough to my ears, a little hoarse and weak, and my legs felt wobbly. I really needed to sit down. Right now. I grabbed one of the chairs and sank gratefully into it. "I can run the register."

He looked at me, frowning. "Do you think that's a good idea if you've got the flu? You should just go home. I can handle this."

I shook my head, taking another sip. The soda was overly sweet, but it seemed to be helping some. "I'm feeling better. It's not the flu. Not sure what it is, but I'm not achy and I don't have a fever. It doesn't feel like the flu." My stomach was a little sore, but nothing else was. "Just tired."

He reached out a hand and felt my forehead, clearly not believing me. "All right, but if you start feeling worse, or you hurl, you're out of here. Don't breathe on anything."

"You're not the boss of me," I muttered into my can of soda, but my voice lacked heat and my usual sass.

"I am today," he told me firmly, arranging cookies behind him, and starting another big pot of coffee. It was cold out, and people would want hot drinks. The smell of the coffee was getting to me, but I tried not to show it. I usually adored the smell of coffee. But today the smell of it was off. The dark, bitter smell of it made me turn my nose up.

"You just sit there and look pretty, and take people's money," Josh ordered me.

"Yes, sir." I gave him a middle finger salute, even though I knew he was right.

I'd seen myself in the mirror this morning, it wasn't much better than it had been a few hours earlier. I was far from looking pretty this morning. At least I was sitting, and I was grateful for that. My legs were still shaking, yet my limbs felt heavy. I felt sluggish and just off, in a weird way I couldn't describe.

We were a few hours into the festival, and had a lull in customers, when I felt myself jerk, my head hitting my chest. Had I dozed off? I blinked rapidly, glancing around.

Josh frowned at me. "Quinn, go home. Seriously, I can handle it until the girls get here to relieve me. Once they do, I'll head to the bakery and work on this week's orders. You look like hell. You don't need to be here."

I rubbed a hand over my face. "I'm fine. "

"You're scaring the customers. No one wants cookies from someone that looks like death warmed over."

"I'm. Fine," I bit out. I heard him mutter something that sounded like "stubborn omega" under his breath. I rubbed at my stomach absently. The dull pain from earlier was back.

"You gonna puke?" he demanded, in a tone that let me know he was about done with my shit.

I glanced over to where he was watching me. My stomach didn't really feel upset anymore, but there was a dull ache, kind of like cramps in it, that was bothering me.

"No. I told you I'm just tired. And stressed." Maybe it was my appendix? Was your appendix on your right side or left? I could never remember, but I so did not have time to deal with it if it was that. My appendix would have to put any plans of bursting on hold, until after the holidays. I did not have time to deal with its nonsense.

Josh didn't look convinced, but since I hadn't puked since I'd been there, he was smart and let it go. He glanced at his watch. "I'm going to go find something to eat that's not made of sugar. You want anything?"

I was hungry, kind of, but not hungry at the same time. I hadn't eaten anything since the afternoon before, and I'd lost that sometime early this morning. But the thought of eating…eh, no. "No, thanks."

He frowned, the same frown he'd been giving me all day. "If I see anyone selling soup, I'm getting you some, and you are going to eat it."

I gave him a two-fingered salute this time. "Yes, sir."

I was hoping we didn't have any customers while he was gone. I'm not sure I had it in me to fake my customer service skills right then. Thankfully, we only had a couple of people wanting some cookies and hot chocolate, but it wasn't anything I wasn't able to handle.

I'd just sank back into my chair when I felt him .

I don't know how I knew he was there, but I did. It was as if something shifted in the air around me, and I knew he was here. I looked up to see Lachlan striding towards me, his long legs eating up the distance quickly. People seemed to just move out of his way. He had a determined and concerned look on his face. Josh was a few steps behind him, holding a bag of what I assumed had food of some kind in it.

Lachlan didn't bother coming up to the window, just strode to the side, and entered the booth like he owned it. I blinked and he was crouching down in front of me, his big hand sweeping the hair back from my forehead. I sighed and pushed my head into his hand, my eyes fluttering closed. I didn't care about anything at the moment, except his hands on me. Soothing me, taking care of me. His hands were cool against my skin that felt heated, and they felt heavenly. It felt so good to have him touching me.

"Quinn." He whispered my name. "Josh told me you're not feeling well. You don't look good, baby. Why didn't you call me?"

Traitor Josh.

I blinked my eyes open, looking into Lachlan's worried blue ones. "So I've been told. I'm fine."

If I said it enough, it would be true. I don't know why I felt the need to keep acting like I was fine when all I wanted to do was curl into him, close my eyes, and let him take care of all my problems. "I don't need anyone to hold my hair back for me when I'm puking. I can do that on my own, thank you very much."

"Hmmm," was his only comment, his eyes assessing my face, completely ignoring my lackluster attempt at any kind of sass. He touched my forehead with the back of his hand. "You're a little warm."

I was? That couldn't be right, because now my teeth were chattering. I could feel myself starting to shake, and I clenched my teeth to keep them from chattering loud enough to be heard. I'd thought I was starting to feel better, and for the past few hours, I had rallied. Now, I felt worse than ever, like a second wave of illness was about to hit me hard.

"I'm taking you home and putting you to bed," Lachlan stated, in a voice I'm sure not many people argued with.

My head ached. A pounding ache, which hadn't subsided all day, and I sighed. "I have a headache, honey, not tonight." I could use cutesy names too. Though I did kind of like the way his voice lowered and got all husky, every time he called me ‘baby'. "I'm here until three, I'll leave then."

"There's my Sass Ass. At least I know you're not dying," he muttered, looking at Josh as he crowded into the booth. "I'm taking him home."

Had the man not just heard me? I was totally going to tell him I did what I wanted, and he wasn't the boss of me. If I wasn't so tired, and feeling worse by the second, I totally would have. That, and I was sort of – kind of – enjoying his take-charge attitude, at least in the way he wanted to take care of me. Not that I would ever admit that to him. Dammit, why did I find that so attractive when it was him doing it?

Josh sat the bag of fried something down on the counter. I could smell the grease fumes rolling off it, and it turned my stomach from an ache to a thrashing wave. Ugh…I clamped my lips together, my hand going back to push at my cramping stomach.

"Please, take him. He's bad for business," Josh pleaded, with a teasing, yet slightly worried tone. I knew he was concerned.

"Fuck you," I muttered, but my voice lacked its usual heat. "We've made plenty this morning."

I wanted to add something about bossy alphas thinking they could order me home, but I just didn't have it in me.

"No thanks to that face of yours," Josh shot right back. "You look like an extra on ‘The Walking Dead' .

Okay, that was a bit much. I flipped him off again, trying not to hurl all over myself, and the booth. That would be bad for business. Really bad.

I gave up the argument I really didn't feel like having. "Fine. I'm going." Somehow making it sound like it was my idea. I stood up and immediately regretted it.

The booth tilted sideways, then tilted the opposite direction. Black dots were dancing before my eyes, and the edges of my sight went gray and blurry. I blinked, reaching out a hand to grab onto anything close to steady myself.

Lachlan had turned to say something to Josh, but the words were muffled, coming at me as if from a tunnel. I wanted to say his name, but I couldn't seem to make my mouth form any words.

I must have made some sound, or my feet stumbling when I couldn't find anything to hold onto alerted him. I saw him turn, his mouth moving with words I couldn't seem to grasp. His arms reached out for me, and then my eyes rolled in my head. My knees gave out, and I felt myself going down, and then nothing but blessed darkness.

I blinked my gummy eyes open, peering into the darkness. I laid quietly for a minute, letting my brain come back online. My stomach was calm, but it felt sore and achy.

It was a great improvement from the sea-sick feeling from earlier. My head hurt a little, but nothing like the spiking pain from before. I moved, stretching my limbs out, feeling the familiar blankets around me .

My bed. I was in my bed, my warm blankets pulled around my naked form. My room was dark, except for a sliver of moonlight coming in through my bedroom window, and from the light on in my bathroom. It had been left on, and the door was pulled almost shut, leaving just enough of a gap for light to come through.

My bladder was full-on screaming at me, and I casually tried to sit up. Every one of my muscles protested the movement, and I groaned, flopping back down. Swinging my legs around to the floor, I rolled somewhat off the bed, right into a pair of rock-hard arms.

"Whoa." Lachlan's voice was husky and low in my ear. "What do you need, Quinn?"

"Need to piss," I panted, because trying to get out of bed had taken all I had out of me, and making words was hard. I may have felt marginally better than I had, but I was weak, and my muscles were shaky, letting me know they weren't thrilled about us being vertical.

"Okay." He swung me up into his arms before I could protest, and I just hung onto his bulging biceps and buried my face into the crook of his neck. Goddess, he smelled so damn good, all the time.

"You think you can stand?" His question was soft, his breath hot against my skin. Goosebumps spread over my body, and I shivered.

"Yeah." He slid me down his body, and I was aware of every inch of him. Every muscle.

Every hollow and contour. His soft patch of thick chest hair against my skin. Even as horrible as I'd felt earlier, my body was coming alive just by being close to him.

My legs were still wobbly as I stood in front of the toilet, and Lachlan ran his hands up and down my arms, not letting go until I gave him a slight nod.

"I'll be right back. Yell if you need me. "

I took care of my bladder and was washing my hands – trying not to look too closely at my reflection in the mirror – when Lachlan entered the bathroom, wrapping one of my super soft blankets I kept in my living room around my shoulders.

"You were cold," he stated when I gave him a questioning look in the mirror. I wanted to tell him my goosebumps had been because of him, and not the cold.

When my hands were dry, Lachlan scooped me back into his arms, and I found I didn't mind so much being carried back to my warm bed. He deposited me down into it, then pulled my duvet up to my chin. He sat next to my hip and brushed the messy, tangled mess of my hair back from my forehead.

My mouth tasted horrible, and I realized I should have taken time to brush my teeth. I felt sweaty and gross. I would take care of my teeth when I took a shower, I decided.

"How do you feel?' Lachlan questioned me, his blue eyes searching my face.

"Better," I answered truthfully. "What time is it? How did I get here?" The last thing I remembered was being in the booth at the Holiday Festival.

He looked at his watch. "A little after three in the morning. What do you remember?"

"Being in the booth. Feeling like shit. Puking my guts up in the morning. You were being super bossy about taking me home. I got dizzy, and then nothing until now."

He stretched, popping his back. "You fainted…"

"Passed out," I corrected, interrupting, because it sounded more manly, even though I knew fainting was probably accurate. His full lips twisted, and he tried to hide his smile, ducking his eyes from my gaze.

"Passed out," he amended .

"And you brought me home," I filled in. He looked away for a minute, then up at the ceiling, then at the floor. I frowned at him, wondering what was causing all the drama I was seeing on his face.

"Mmmhmmm." He ran a hand over his perpetual five o'clock shadow that I found sexy as hell. "Before you hear it from Josh, I may have freaked out a little bit when you passed out."

I stared at him owlishly, then waved a hand at him to continue. "I need more words."

There seemed to be more to this story, by the way he wouldn't quite meet my eyes.

"I was ready to call an ambulance, or take you straight to the E.R. Josh is very good under pressure, by the way."

I ducked my head, trying not to smile, as I imagined my big alpha losing his cool. "He is. Also, that seems a bit dramatic."

"While I was trying to remember the number for nine-one-one," I gave him an incredulous look that he correctly interpreted to mean he was an idiot, and said, "I know. I told you I was losing it. Anyway, Josh calmly told me you likely had food poisoning, or the flu, and were dehydrated. Fluids and rest, and you would be fine. I may have told him to fuck off. The details are a bit murky."

I snorted, and Lachlan continued his tale. "Then I came to my senses and remembered my brother is a doctor. I called him instead. He calmed me down. And said that emergency services were probably not needed."

I remembered Lachlan telling me one of his brothers was a doctor…Finn, the one that disliked Wade, or Wade disliked him. The disliking was mutual, and I wasn't picking sides on whatever weird drama they had going on between them. "What did Finn say to do?"

"To bring you home, and he'd meet us here. You started throwing up pretty much as soon as I got us in the door, and couldn't seem to stop. You were completely out of it. I have to tell you, I've never been so happy to see my brother as I was when he showed up. You were dehydrated, so he set you up with an I.V., and he gave you something for the vomiting. He took the I.V. out this afternoon. I've been waiting for you to wake up. You were sleeping peacefully, so I let you sleep. You needed the rest."

I looked at my left hand. It had felt tender when I'd washed them after I'd peed. I could just make out where the I.V. needle had been inserted. "Wait, what day is it?"

How long had I been sleeping…passed out…fainted…whatever?

"Sunday night. Well, Monday morning."

Monday morning. I needed to get up. I had to be at the bakery. I pushed the blankets back and tried to get my legs off the bed, but Lachlan was blocking me with his big body. His big solid, not moving an inch when I pushed at him, body. He raised a black as night brow at me, his lips curled in that quirky smile of his. "Quinn, what are you trying to do?"

"I'm trying to get up," I huffed, because obviously. I pushed at him again, not moving him an inch. "I need to get to the bakery."

He pushed me back down, pulling the blankets over me, catching my hands in his when I tried to push them off. "Quinn, stop." His growly voice stopped my struggles. "Josh is opening. He's got it covered. Finn thinks you had a fairly strong, twenty-four-hour stomach bug. You were very dehydrated, running a low-grade fever, and you are exhausted. You are on bed rest until tomorrow, doctor's orders. And that depends on how well you feel the rest of today."

I huffed, then ground the heels of my hands into the heat prickling in my eyes. Good God, I would not cry again. What the fuck was wrong with me? I had cried more the last few days than I had the last ten years of my life. It was getting ridiculous .

The feelings this time that caused my eyes to water were completely different than in Lachlan's office. It dawned on me that this man had not only freaked out when I'd passed out, but he'd also taken care of me. Taken care of me at my worst. He'd stayed.

I didn't ever let anyone take care of me. I was capable of taking care of myself. I thought back, trying to remember if I'd ever even had anyone I was seeing seriously the last time I wasn't feeling well. I'd dated Leo the longest, and I'd had a cold once the whole time we were together.

Leo had definitely not taken care of me. He'd told me to text him when I was germ-free. I'd been absolutely fine with his response. Even as a child, I hadn't wanted my parents fussing over me when I'd been sick. Leave me in peace on the couch, and I'd either get better or die.

But this felt good, letting Lachlan take care of me. To have someone worry about me. I felt warm inside, and I liked that feeling. The feeling of knowing he had stayed, he had worried, he had wanted to make sure I was okay.

He pulled at my hands, bringing them down. "Hey, what's wrong?"

I shook my head, taking a deep, shuddering breath. I had all these feelings and emotions, and it was overwhelming me.

"Tell me," he ordered, in his deep, dark voice that made me want to do anything he said. Damn him.

"You stayed," I whispered, not able to meet his eyes. "You took care of me."

His long finger under my chin forced me to look at him, and meet his eyes. His icy blue eyes were questioning. "Of course I stayed. Why wouldn't I?"

I shrugged. "You didn't have to." As far as explanations went, it was pretty lame .

"That's where you're wrong," he told me. "I couldn't have left you if I'd wanted to. My heart nearly stopped when your eyes rolled up and you started to fall. I was so worried about you."

I swallowed the lump that had taken up residence in my throat and took a breath. I needed a minute to let his words sink into my soul.

This man, this wolf, this alpha, made me want things I'd never wanted before. He made me feel things I'd never allowed myself to feel before. There was a pull I felt towards him, a feeling like if I fell, I knew without a doubt he would catch me.

It was a heady feeling, full of warmth and peace, and it scared the fucking hell out of me.

The rumbling of my stomach broke me out of my frankly all over the place thoughts, and Lachlan chuckled. "I was going to ask if you felt up to eating something, but I think I have my answer."

I was hungry, but also not. My stomach still just not feeling right somehow. "Maybe something light?" I hedged, knowing I needed to put something in it.

"I have chicken soup simmering on the stove for you. I'll be right back."

He brought me the soup in a mug with a handle, so I could hold it in my hand. It smelled amazing, but I recalled what he'd said about his lack of cooking skills.

"Did you make this?" I asked suspiciously.

He snorted. "God no! You would be puking again if I had." He ducked his head again, blushing a little. "I have a chef. She's amazing, and she made a big pot and dropped it off."

I sipped at the salty, chicken broth, feeling better with each sip. It was scrumptious, and whatever magic chicken soup had, this one had it in spades. "Why are you blushing? "

He shrugged. "I don't know. That just sounded extremely snobbish. Like I'm so rich I have a private chef."

I grunted. "If I had that many zeros in my bank account, I'd have a private chef. I can cook, but it's not my favorite thing to do. I'd rather be baking any day. Don't apologize for the things you have. Your family donates plenty to this town and charities. If you want a chef, go for it."

I sipped at my soup some more. "This is the best chicken soup I've ever had. Your chef can feed me anytime."

He leaned forward, and kissed my nose in a gesture so sweet, it had me looking away from him.

This man was nothing that I'd thought he was, and everything I'd never thought I'd want. But want him I did. In more ways than just sex.

He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. "So…my mom always has my brothers and me over for dinner on Christmas Eve. Would you like to come? With me? As my date? As my boyfriend? Unless it's too soon. Whatever you're comfortable with."

I peered at him over the rim of my mug. His stammering was cute, and a little funny, especially considering the man had knotted me more than a couple of times at this point.

However, I wasn't sure if we were at the boyfriends stage, either. Despite everything happening at warp speed between us, I wasn't sure I was quite there yet. We'd just agreed to try dating a few days ago. To not put pressure on either one of us.

My contemplating him over my mug, and my brain whirling at the word ‘boyfriend', must have made Lachlan think I was going to turn him down, and he started stammering again. "I didn't even ask if you were free that night. You probably have your own family traditions on Christmas Eve, and that's fine, I totally understand. Forget I asked. "

"Yes, I'd like to come with you to your mom's house," I said, grinning into my cup. Lachlan was adorable when he was unsure of himself. "My family does a big Christmas morning breakfast, then presents, then dinner. We usually watch a movie or two in between all that. I'm free on Christmas Eve. Well, that night I will be. The Sweet Spot is open until six that day. People need their coffee for last-minute shopping, and desserts for parties and dinners, so we stay open later. I could be there by seven if that will work?"

He grinned wide at me, his smile all white teeth. It lit his face up, giving him a softer side that I didn't think many people were privileged enough to get to see. As we got to know each other, as I'd gotten to know him, I could see him starting to relax more in my presence. The rude businessman that had barged into my bakery that first day, cutting in line, was gone. When we were together, he seemed to be able to let his guard down, to let his walls crumble a little. I could almost see him discovering things about himself he hadn't even known existed.

Should I invite him to my family's Christmas? I hadn't ever invited anyone to our Christmas. Mostly because, the only time I'd been dating anyone of any seriousness, had been last Christmas, and it had been Leo. And he'd said he'd had a business thing he'd had to take care of out of town, and wouldn't be able to make it. In reality, he'd probably been taking care of Justin.

Yeah, Leo was a shit person, and he'd probably been cheating on me the entire time. If I was going to be honest with myself, I'd been detached from the whole relationship. I'd never let myself get that close to Leo, but I hadn't cared. The relationship had gone on as long as it did because I'd been too busy to end it. Leo had always been an afterthought in the back of my mind .

I never felt like I was missing anything when we weren't together. Why it still stung to find out he'd been cheating on me, I had no clue, but it did. Why I was still angry over what he'd done, and tried to do with my bakery and my life, I couldn't say. Probably more a pride thing, than any actual feelings that were involved.

With Lachlan I found myself wanting more with him. I wanted to get to know him, all of him. The real him, the person he was at home, in his sweats. I wanted to know his favorites – color, music, movie, food – all of it.

I wanted it all with him.

"Do you…" I started, but the words caught in my throat, and I cleared it a little. "Would you like to come to our Christmas breakfast at my parents' house? Spend the day, watch movies, and have dinner?"

He nodded his dark head immediately, his smile beaming, taking no time to even think about his answer. "Yes, yes I would."

I yawned, because even though I'd slept a whole day away, I still felt drained. Lachlan took the mug from me and placed it on the bedside table. "I should get going."

Without thought, I reached out a hand, stopping him.

"Stay. With me. Tonight." I scooted over and made a spot in my cocoon of blankets.

He stopped mid-stand, then sank back next to me on the bed. "Are you sure?"

I patted the mattress. "I'm sure. It's too late for you to drive home." That sounded lame as hell, but I refused to say the actual words letting him know I wanted him to stay. "And you're too long for the couch."

That at least was the truth. I figured that's where he'd been camped out, since he was in sweats and a t-shirt, with sleep rumpled hair .

"This isn't some kind of trick, is it?" He slid in next to me, his big body taking up a lot of real estate in my queen-sized bed. I always hated sharing space, especially in bed. I was a sprawler, and a restless sleeper, and I didn't need to hear anyone complaining.

"You're not going to wake me up in an hour, and kick my ass out again, are you?" he demanded. "I have to tell you, I won't handle it well."

Lachlan pulled me close to him before I could protest, and I settled my head on his chest, just under his chin. My thigh wrapped over his big, hairy ones, like it had a mind of its own, and knew just where it belonged.

"I'm too tired for all that nonsense. But if you could be gone by the time I wake up, that would be fantastic," I teased, wriggling around until I was draped over him like an octopus.

He stroked my back lightly, and nuzzled his chin into my hair, something I noticed he did a lot of. It was nice. Comforting, and warm, and all the things I'd never known it could be. I was just dozing off, when his voice whispered in the darkness, piercing the silence.

"Quinn?"

"Hmmmm?"

"What's happening between us? Do you want it to continue? Truly? I know we talked about it in my office, but is it what you want?" He sounded so unsure, hesitant like he was prepared for me to say no.

"I do," I answered him, speaking the first words that popped into my head. It was a trick Gigi used on me when I was growing up. If I was having a hard time choosing something or working things out in my head. She'd tell me to close my eyes, to not think, and just answer with the first thing that popped into my head. She'd say, "There's your answer, Quinny. That's what you really want, deep down. No second-guessing yourself. "

"We are very different," he whispered, and he sounded as afraid as I felt. He wasn't wrong, and some of our differences seemed big, and I wasn't sure we would be able to move past them.

"We are," I agreed, not denying the truth. Truths were easier to talk about under the cover of darkness. "I like you, Lachlan. More than I want to. More than I've ever liked anyone."

I could feel his smile against my hair. "I like you too, though honestly, I'm not sure why." I tensed beneath his feather-light strokes on my skin. "That came out wrong. What I mean is, you're not someone I would have ever pictured myself with. But the last few weeks have been full of all kinds of surprises, and I think I'm still sorting through them all."

I was quiet, quietly chewing on his words. "Care to elaborate?"

He sighed under me. My hand had found its way to his chest, and I stroked the hair on it. It was quickly becoming one of my favorite things to do.

"I found out two of my brothers also have fated mates."

"Really?" As far as I knew, all of the Sinclair quads were single.

"Believe me, it was news to me too. They told me as long as you don't claim each other, you can walk away. Move along with your life as if nothing happened."

We hadn't claimed each other yet, but we also weren't walking away. "I take it they both walked away from their mates?"

"Finn said his mate was not appropriate, and Jamie thinks his mate is dead."

"He thinks he's dead? He's not sure?" I squawked. His wandering hands had moved from stroking my back to messing with the hair at the nape of my neck, and my cat purred. Damn, that felt good. He did seem to love playing with my hair .

"Jamie used to work for some branch of the government. Don't ask me what branch, or what he did. I honestly don't know, and he can't or won't say. From the little he has divulged, I think he met his mate on an assignment, and something happened."

"Wow, that sounds very James Bondish," I joked, while trying to keep my body from responding to the petting he was giving me. How had I ever thought I didn't enjoy cuddling, and intimate touches that went beyond sex? Lachlan's hands on me were perfect. "Wade would love that shit."

Lachlan went silent for a few minutes, and his stroking had me nearly asleep again. "Do you ever wonder who you are?"

My eyes flew open in the darkness. "Only since meeting you," I told him, only half-joking.

"I don't think I know myself at all." His voice was low, soft, and filled with that hesitation in it from earlier. I was quiet because it seemed a good time to just be. Here in the darkness of my bedroom, warm and cuddled up next to this big alpha, my alpha.

When he didn't seem inclined to elaborate, I prodded him along. "Why do you think that?"

Because he came across as having it together. Whatever the elusive it was, Lachlan had it in spades. At least from the outside, looking in with a stranger's view. Spending time with him, the little amount we'd had so far, getting to know him, I'd glimpsed bits of vulnerability, of unsureness, of things he kept buried deep. There was even a certain shyness to him at times.

I looked up at him, craning my neck to peer at him in the darkness. My cat eyes had adjusted, and turning this way, I could make out his hard jawline, teeth clenched tightly. I smoothed a hand over that stubbled jaw, caressing softly, wanting to smooth the tightness there .

"Lots of reasons lately." I sensed somehow that he wasn't ready to talk about whatever was making him question his life choices, so I didn't push him.

I yawned again, while I waited for him to explain. While I did feel better, the overwhelming exhaustion that had been plaguing me remained. Maybe I was anemic? I should think about seeing a doctor. After the holidays.

"You need to rest." He was deflecting, and I didn't blame him. I could be the king of deflection when I put my mind to it. Which I did often. Deflecting wasn't going to work this time, not with what was happening between us. There was still so much that needed to be worked out between us, if we were going to make this work.

I liked him, and I wanted to keep seeing him, but I was nowhere ready to let him claim me. If what his brothers said was true, that not all fated mates chose to stay together, then we still had an out. The question remained if either of us wanted to use our get-out-of-jail-free card. I'd always assumed that if you met your fated mate, that was it. You were destined to be together and live happily ever after.

I closed my eyes and snuggled into his warmth. "I'm gonna sleep some more, then go into work later. I'm feeling better, and Josh will need the help."

"You absolutely are not doing that." His voice rumbled beneath me.

My eyes popped open at his tone, all commanding and domineering. My anger rose up like a volcano. And just like that, all the warm fuzzies I'd been feeling vanished. I sat up, pushing off his chest and glaring down at him, shoving my hair from my eyes. "Excuse me?"

Lachlan sat up too, resting his back against the headboard. With my excellent night vision, I didn't miss the look of annoyance on his chiseled face. "What part of bed rest did you not understand? "

I waved a hand at him. "I do what I want, and I'm going into my bakery. I'm capable of taking care of myself."

He scowled at me, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "You were doing a fantastic job of it Saturday. I'm not even sure why you thought dragging your sick ass to the festival was a good idea. Did you ever stop to think that you might have been contagious, Quinn? Or are you so stubborn, you'd rather collapse than admit you might not be able to do it all on your own, and ask for help?"

This man! Who did he think he was? How dare he!

Okay, everything he'd said was pretty much true, but how did he know that? Instead, I sputtered angrily, "How dare you!"

His nostrils flared, and his ice blue eyes were shooting fire at me. "I dare just fine. You know what half your problem is?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm sure you're going to tell me."

It probably wasn't anything I hadn't heard before. The difference would be this time I cared about the person saying the words.

"You're a spoiled, fucking ass." The look on his face dared me to disagree with him. "You like being in charge of things, and want everything your way, all the time. No one ever tells you no. I'm telling you no."

He what now? I take back saying I wasn't going to throw his ass out of my bed tonight. He was so getting tossed out. I went from wanting this man, to needing to be as close to him as I could get, to being royally pissed off by him, in two seconds flat. My mood swings were epically out of control, ever since we'd met.

I started to get out of bed. He grabbed my arm, tossing me down on my back and looming over me. Both our chests were heaving with anger, and the lust we couldn't seem to not feel in each other's presence.

No one had ever tossed me around like he just had, and I didn't dislike it. Far from it. He hadn't hurt me, but he'd been fierce. Forceful and demanding. My cat was purring away, not a care in the world, content with our alpha. Traitor.

"You, Sass Ass, are staying right here, in this bed, the rest of the day. You can go into your bakery tomorrow. Furthermore – "

I rolled my eyes so hard I was afraid they might actually stick that way, this time. Something my dad was always warning me I was in danger of happening. "Who the fuck says ‘furthermore'?"

He took a deep, calming breath. He may have been counting to ten, I wasn't sure. "Furthermore, I'm hiring you temporary help until after the holidays. Before you even start, no one is going into your precious kitchen. They will be front-end and delivery help only. My brother, Brendan, has a list of people looking for seasonal work. Yes, I know I'm overstepping any invisible boundaries you have. No, I don't care. Yes, I know I'm moving way too fast. No, I don't care. I'm taking care of my omega. This is happening. Deal with it."

I took a few seconds to absorb and catalog all the emotions raging through me. I was angry and turned on at the same time. If it wasn't for the fact that I had spent the last two days throwing up, pretty much passed out, dead to the world, I'd probably be jumping his bones right now. Or, telling him to go fuck himself. There was a good possibility I'd be doing both.

I could admit, that when it came to The Sweet Spot, I was prickly. It was my baby, and I'd made it into what it was, with my own blood, sweat, and skills. On my own. I'd already had one asshole try to come in and take it from me.

He's not trying to take it from us , my cat purred. He's trying to take care of us. Would it hurt us to let him?

"Okay." He looked as shocked as I felt when I quietly uttered the word from my mouth .

He blinked hard, blue eyes wide. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that? I'm not sure I heard you correctly."

I huffed in annoyance, mostly at myself, honestly. "Okay."

There was really no good reason for me to not accept his help, except my own stubborn pride. Help sounded – well, it just sounded wrong in my head – but I knew I needed to admit that we needed help. He was right, I was too stubborn for my own good most times. I did think I needed to do it all myself, like I had something to prove to someone. Accepting help didn't make me a failure, even if it did feel that way.

I didn't know if it was his alpha pheromones, or just me being tired and vulnerable, but I felt a sense of calm wash over me at his take charge, bossy attitude. No one ever pushed back at me, and I needed – wanted – someone to do just that. I just didn't want to have to tell them that's what I needed. I wanted them to figure it out on their own.

No one ever had.

Until now.