4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Quinn

What the fuck had I just done?

Had I really refused service to Lachlan Sinclair? I'd lost my damn mind, along with my temper.

I'd just lost us a huge check. There was no way he would still want us to cater his company brunch. We didn't need it, I tried to convince myself. The Sweet Spot was doing well. Really well. We had more orders than we knew what to do with, and Christmas was still a few weeks away with orders coming in daily.

Besides, on my next birthday I'd be coming into my trust fund. Other than giving Josh, Jen and Stacy raises, I didn't need to touch the money. It was nice knowing it was there, though, for emergencies or new equipment, or whatever came up. Honestly, it was enough I would never have to work again if I didn't want to.

Was I just going to ignore what had happened between Lachlan and me, when our hands had touched? I sure the fuck was. I'd stopped believing in that fated mate crap a long time ago .

Even if Gigi swore she and my grandfather had been fated. My grandfather had died when I was young, and since then, Gigi had had five more mates. Though she swore none of them were her fated mate. Just my grandfather.

My parents talked about fated mates. How they had known they were destined for each other from the minute they had touched. How it hadn't mattered to my wolf father that my mother was a leopard. He'd never cared about species. He'd said she could have been human, and he still would have fallen for her, since they were fated.

It was just something the books talked about, as far as I was concerned. Happily ever after, and all that hype. Being able to sense the other person, once you mated for the first time. Being able to know if they were in trouble, or sick, or hurt, once you had claimed each other. Knowing you were meant to be together, from one touch of your skin against theirs.

Honestly, who came up with this shit? I figured it was just something some writer came up with, to sell a bunch of books.

Real life did not happen that way. Did anyone ask Cinderella what happened after she put that slipper on? Look, if you lost your shoe after midnight, you were probably too drunk to see straight. Those were the facts.

Did the books ever talk about how hard relationships were? Compromises that had to be made, on both sides. The hard talks, about sex and money, and babies, and everything in between. Or the times when life was just life, moving along at a boring, same old same old, every day pace.

That wasn't romantic.

Plus, all the "rules" between an alpha and an omega. The differences. The complete imbalance of the power dynamics. Yeah, things had changed a lot in the last couple of decades, and omegas had more rights now than ever, but there was still a power imbalance that some folks wouldn't ever let go of.

No thanks. I liked being in charge way too much for most alphas. All the ones I'd met, anyway.

So what if my leopard roared when Lachlan and I had touched?

My leopard didn't know what we needed.

My leopard was an idiot, who thought with his dick way too much.

So what if the man smelled divine? Like woods, and the freshest citrus, and some kind of enticing musk.

So what if I had to look up to him, which seldom happened? What would it feel like to be the one to have to stretch up for a kiss, instead of bending down?

So what if I'd felt my heart start pounding, and my slick started to pool in my pants, and my cock got rock hard?

That was a long list of ‘so what's'.

He was a bossy, rude, know it all, bossy alpha. Did I say bossy? Let's not forget rude.

My cat purred loudly, the sound rumbling just beneath the surface of my heated skin. My slick flowed like a fucking river, making my boxer briefs sticky and wet.

I was so fucked.

I vowed to put him out of my mind, and once the morning rush had died down, I got back in the kitchen. This was my happy place. I was absolutely not thinking of Lachlan Sinclair.

I was happily mixing batter hours later, ignoring my damp underwear, when Josh popped through the swinging door, a weird look on his face.

"What's wrong?" I questioned, gently folding in the flour. Mixers were great, but sometimes you just needed a gentle hand for things.

"He's back," Josh whispered .

"Who's back?" I didn't whisper. I had a strange feeling I knew who we were not whispering about.

"That alpha," Josh whispered again. "The one from this morning. The mean one."

I sighed, stopping my folding. "First, stop whispering," I ordered. "Second, what the fuck does he want?"

"You."

My green eyes widened, and I felt that same rush of heat whoosh through my body, like a forest fire.

"I mean, he asked to speak to you. He was being polite this time. A bit formal."

"Well, that makes it all better then, doesn't it?" I wiped my hands on a dishtowel.

I glanced down at my apron, the one that had a black cat drinking a cup of coffee on it, and said ‘I do what I want'. It had been a gift from Wade. An appropriate one. I was a black leopard, who loved coffee, and did what I wanted.

It was also a practical gift. No matter what I did, I always managed to get ingredients on me. I had flour here and there. Probably other things on me too. I didn't care. Baking was messy, I don't care what you saw on any of those food shows. If you weren't making a mess, you weren't doing it right.

Josh was silent, not knowing what to say to my sass, and glanced over his shoulder, out the little window of the swinging door. Looking at Lachlan, I imagined.

"Tell him he can come back," I finally said.

"Back here?" His whisper was back.

I didn't blame him. This was my sanctuary. It was a no-fly zone for anyone but me. Or Josh, because he was apprenticing. It was not for the general public. I didn't even let Wade back here. If I was going to have to deal with Lachlan Sinclair again, I was doing it on my turf.

"Yep, back here."

Josh disappeared back to the front, and I took a deep, steadying breath.

I had no doubt that Wade had passed on my message, and Lachlan was here to plead his case. I knew the man had a ridiculous sweet tooth. I knew so much about him from Wade, I sometimes felt like I knew him already.

The door made its swishing sound, and there he was; taking up too much space in my good-sized kitchen. It was an odd feeling, for me to have to look up to someone. There were just enough inches between us, that I had to tilt my head back a smidgeon.

He stood there, hands stuffed deep in the pockets of his charcoal gray suit. It fit the man like a glove, showing off his broad shoulders and chest, his long legs, with their thick thighs. Probably showed off his ass to perfection too, if the suit jacket didn't cover it.

God, I did love some good suit porn, and he wore his suits to perfection.

I raised a brow at him and waited for him to speak.

He had the good grace to look a little sheepish. He appraised my kitchen, his blue eyes missing nothing, before falling back to me. He took a breath in through his nose, then closed his eyes as if savoring the smells and let it slowly out through his mouth.

I had a batch of scones baking, for the morning. The lemon scent filled the air, along with a batch of brownies in another oven. The air smelled lemony, along with the scent of milk chocolate from the brownies. The scents shouldn't mingle well together, but the kitchen smelled amazing.

He opened his eyes and nailed me with his ice-blue gaze. My breath hitched in my chest. The man was gorgeous, I couldn't deny it, and he made all my nerve endings tingle. My slick had finally stopped flowing, but I felt it start up again .

No other alpha had ever affected me as he did. I mean, I got slick when I had sex, but this…this was something else entirely. It was as if I'd sat in a puddle.

Never had I randomly started gushing from just being in the same room with someone. It was disconcerting and beyond annoying.

I waited for him to speak first. I wasn't going to make this easy on him, and I hadn't decided if I was going to budge on my ban against him. I was stubborn, and it was going to depend on what he said, and how he acted.

He cleared his throat.

Was he nervous? I didn't expect that from him. In my mind, he always struck me as self-assured and confident. Wade complained that he was the most unorganized person he had ever met, but Wade was OCD when it came to stuff like that, so I usually took his ramblings with a grain of salt. Wade also had said the man was brilliant when it came to numbers, and anything financial, but people weren't really his strong suit, so maybe he was nervous.

I watched his face, as he silently read my apron. His lips turned up at the corners in an almost smile, before he seemed to catch himself.

"I wanted to come and apologize for my behavior this morning," he finally spoke.

I raised an eyebrow. "You should apologize."

"I don't normally act like that."

I waved a hand in the air. I couldn't help but notice how his eyes tracked the movement of my hand and fingers. There was something hot in his eyes, the way his pupils contracted at my movements.

"Let's be honest here." Nope, I was not going to make this easy on him, at all. "We both know Wade sent you. "

He gave me that sheepish little half-smile of his, and dammit, if he didn't look just like a boy caught stealing cookies. "He did inform me of your decision to ban me from coffee."

"And all the baked goods." I reminded him sharply.

He winced. Physically winced. The old saying about how the way to a man's heart was through his stomach echoed in my head. The way to Lachlan Sinclair's heart was most definitely through baked goods. Baked goods and coffee. As long as it was sweet coffee. I'd not missed his horror when I'd handed him that black cup of coffee this morning. I'd done it on purpose, and I wasn't one bit sorry about it.

"Is there room for negotiation on that?" he asked, in a voice I imagined he used in his business dealings. It was a strong voice, masculine, a little rough, leaning towards this side of husky. Everything in me wanted to respond to it, but I pushed the feeling away.

"I haven't heard anything, so far, to make me feel the need to renegotiate the terms I stated." I could be formal and business-like too. I would not be swayed by that sexy voice of his. Or those blue, blue eyes of his.

His eyes flared for a second with the heat of desire, or anger, before he nodded his dark head.

Damn, that little bit of gray at the sides was doing things to me. When had I started finding that sexy? It was, though. So, so sexy. And that barely-there mustache and beard of his, the line of hair trimmed so close, it was just a smidge over a good five o'clock shadow. I wanted to rub up against his face, like the cat I was, and find out if it was soft or would it leave a trail of red marks?

"Point taken."

Silence again, as we stared at each other, neither blinking nor giving in. I could stand here all day if I needed to .

"I would like to apologize for my behavior this morning." He finally broke first. "It's not like me. I know that sounds like an excuse, but I don't behave that way."

He did seem sincere.

"Then why did you?" I wanted to know what had prompted his utter dickishness this morning.

He blinked. Blinked harder. Apparently, he wasn't prepared for follow-up questions about his bad behavior. He opened his mouth, closed it, then shrugged those wide as fuck shoulders of his.

"I really don't have an explanation. I was out of sorts, but I don't have a reason why. I woke up in a foul mood, for no good reason at all. I wasn't expecting Wade to be out today, and anytime he is out it throws my day completely off. I was already running late for a meeting that I didn't want to be in. I desperately needed coffee and breakfast, and the line was so long." He paused for a second as if listening to all the words he'd just said. "Yeah, that all sounds like whining excuses."

I nodded, agreeing. "So, you are hearing yourself? The absolute bullshit coming from your mouth?"

He grinned then, an honest to God actual grin, and fuck! My stomach literally flipped on itself. Holy hell, no one should have a grin like that. That grin could make people get naked in less than a minute flat.

I wanted to get naked.

Right fucking now.

In my kitchen. Where I baked things.

"Yeah, I'm hearing myself. All I can say is I am very sorry for acting like an ass."

"An alpha ass. "

He nodded. "An alpha ass. I don't normally use my Alpha voice, I don't. I respect omegas, and people in general, and I most definitely do not like causing scenes. I don't know what else I can say, except I am truly sorry."

I believed him. I didn't want to, but I did. I knew enough about him from Wade, that I felt I had a fairly good idea of the man he was. I did believe he was sorry for the way he had acted that morning. That didn't mean I was going to let him off the hook that easily though.

I ran a hand down my apron again, and pursed my lips, tapping my bottom lip with one finger.

"A week," I told him, a full minute later, which felt much longer than it actually was.

His head came up, a little light of hope springing in those blue, blue eyes of his. "A week?"

"You are banned for one week." He started to open his mouth, no doubt to protest. "That's my final answer, take it or leave it. Push your luck, and it will be a month."

He winced in horror at the thought, but his face held something else I couldn't quite name. Respect, maybe? His lips clamped shut, then he muttered, "That's harsh."

"You want to make it a month then?" I folded my arms over my chest and tapped my foot against the hard floor. Tap, tap, tap.

"No! That's not what I meant. Dammit!" He ran a hand through his dark locks, totally messing them up. The disheveled look was good on him. Was that how he looked first thing in the morning, or after sex? I wanted to take my hands and totally mess his hair up more.

"I meant you're tough, but in a good way. Dammit, I can't seem to make any sense around you. I'll take the week."

"Good choice." I grinned at him.

He took a step forward, and I fought the urge to take a step back. He was big, broad, and crowded into my space. Another step forward, closer, but I stood my ground.

His arm raised, and then his fingers were brushing across my cheekbone, in the barest whisper of a caress. I couldn't breathe. The air inside me stopped. My cat whined, then howled, then settled into a purr. I breathed in his scent, musky, male, and citrus. My mouth watered with want.

He rubbed his fingers together. "You had flour on your cheek." His voice was doing that low, husky, sexy thing again.

I'd been acting like a badass with flour on my cheek? Well…that took some of the snark from my sails, now, didn't it?

"A week," I got out, finally taking a step back. I needed space between us. Lots of space. Sooo much space. "And don't try to get Wade to bring you things," I warned, wagging a finger at him. "I'll know, and you won't like the consequences."

Something burst to life in his eyes, something wild, raw, and dark. Did he like the thought of being reprimanded and punished? Did Lachlan Sinclair like a little impact play? It made me shiver, despite the heat in my kitchen.

"You're very sassy." It didn't necessarily sound like a compliment, but I chose to take it as one anyway.

I shrugged. "I've been called worse."

He stared at me hard, seemed to be fighting some kind of internal war with himself, before he said, "I'll see you in a week, Sass Ass."

I preened at the name he'd called me, even though as endearments went, it wasn't the best.

I was so fucked.