5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Lachlan

I was bored out of my mind.

I sat across from the beautiful omega, and listened to his softly spoken answers to my questions, and I could not be any more bored than I was at this moment.

Until this morning, I'd been excited for this dinner date. On paper, this omega was everything I thought I wanted. Trained at an excellent omega school that taught the arts of specializing in being a traditional house omega. Cooking, cleaning, running a household, taking care of children. He spoke softly, rarely looking me in the eye when he answered my questions. He seemed timid, not asking anything of me, or about myself. He waited for me to take the lead, asking the questions to him, and giving very little in return.

He had even looked a little horrified when the waiter had come to take our orders, and gave me a helpless look. He hadn't looked at the menu or even opened it. When I'd asked if he wanted me to order for him, he had lowered his lashes, and nodded his head in silence .

He was small in stature, like most omegas, probably no taller than Wade. I was going to have to bend in half to kiss him. It would give me a neckache, I knew from experience. He was thin, bordering on the side of too skinny, and I thought he could use a cookie or five. His skin was pale and flawless, his hair a light brown. His eyes were also brown, a light shade, like whiskey. He was beautiful, there was no doubt of that.

He was everything I was sure I had wanted my entire life, and he didn't excite me at all. I wasn't even sure I remembered his name.

I hoped I wouldn't have to pretend to take a call, or worse, have to text Wade and ask what the omega's name was. I'd never hear the end of it from him, if I did.

The agency had put us at a ninety percent match. At first, I'd thought it was just a lack of chemistry between us, but I finally had to admit that what I was feeling was complete boredom.

My mind kept drifting back to the other omega I'd met today. The tall, lithe, sexy, sassy, take no prisoners, you can't have my cookies, omega.

Quinn.

Mate, my wolf nudged me, as if I needed the reminder.

Quinn would not have let me order for him, that I knew for a fact. He would not sit here meekly, not participating in an actual conversation, and he'd have just as many questions for me, as I did for him.

He'd be snarky, and full of sass, and he'd challenge me at every turn. Probably roll those gorgeous, green eyes at me, more than once.

When did I start finding eye rolling a turn on?

How could one meeting turn my entire world upside down?

Make me question everything I'd ever thought I'd wanted?

Words my mom said to me, years ago, suddenly became loud in my ear. Sometimes, Lachlan, what we think we want does not come in the package that we think it will. You must be open to all possibilities. Fate will bring you what you need.

I suddenly understood exactly what she'd meant.

Quinn Rafferty was the opposite of everything I'd ever imagined I would want in a mate. But want him I did. With every cell of my body.

Our food was delivered, and I was thankful to start eating. I'd pretty much run out of questions to ask. It was hard to keep a conversation going, if every answer to every question was basically one word. Not much you could follow up with.

I was halfway through my delicious, rare steak and loaded baked potato, when I realized my date – yeah, I couldn't remember his name, and I had to admit it – was just sitting, not eating. He'd eaten the house salad, which had come with our meals, and taken a bite of potato, then nothing.

He was just sitting quietly, hands folded in his lap, head ducked down, eyes averted from me.

"Is something wrong with your steak?" I asked, wiping my mouth with my napkin. My salad sat next to my plate, untouched. My heart would probably have been grateful for the rabbit food, but my wolf wouldn't have been happy.

It had been a day, and tonight, I needed red meat and carbs.

His honey brown eyes peeked up at me. "I don't eat meat."

Dear Goddess, what kind of date hell was I in? That is information that should be included on any dating website applications.

I stared at him for a moment, dumbfounded. "But, you're a wolf."

While Sweet Alps was full of all kinds of shifters, wolf shifters were predominate. I had even specifically narrowed my criteria and search on the website, so that it only gave me wolf options .

No cats need apply. None. I did not need purring to keep me warm at night. Not even rare, leopard ones, with green eyes that reminded me of emeralds. And russet hair that couldn't decide if it was red or brown.

Where had that thought come from? If I wasn't sure I'd only been sipping on water tonight, I'd swear I was drunk. My mind was all over the place.

My wolf snickered at me. He knew I was fucked too.

"Yes, but it's just wrong ." His voice was sweet, but soft and so sincere, that I was tempted to push my plate away. The way he had stressed the word ‘wrong', told me exactly how he felt about the steak I'd been in the process of inhaling.

I didn't even know what to say to that. I was having a hard time wrapping my head around a wolf shifter that didn't eat meat. I mean…nope, I had no clue how to process that information. We were meat eaters. Period.

"Um…" My expensive education was certainly paying off tonight. "Would you like something else?" It wasn't like I couldn't afford it, and I'd hate for him to be hungry. I may have known this date was going to amount to zero, before it even got started, thanks to a tall, smells like cookies omega, but I would still act like the gentleman I'd been raised to be.

He smiled sweetly. "No thank you. I got full on the salad."

I blinked, feeling my brows raise into my hairline. That certainly explained why he was so skinny.

Quinn's lithe form flashed in my mind, his tall, thin frame. But he had muscles, his forearms corded with small but bulging muscles. Not to mention the glimpse of his very round bubble butt I'd seen, as he'd waltzed through the doors to his kitchen.

Did people actually get full on salads? I didn't know any. It wasn't even a chef salad. There was no meat, eggs, cheese, not that he would probably eat it, if it had those things on it. With the whole not eating meat thing. It was lettuce, tomatoes, cucumber, basic salad. A very small, very bland, basic salad.

A horrific thought struck me. It really shouldn't have, as I knew this date wasn't going anywhere beyond tonight, but I needed to know. If for no other reason than to have a basis of what questions I should ask in the future, before approaching another omega for a date.

My wolf whined at that thought, snarling that we'd already met our mate. I ignored him, determined to continue with my life plan.

"How do you feel about sweets?" I asked in all seriousness because it was serious business.

"Do you mean desserts?"

"Yes. Well, all sweets, all of them. Sugar. Chocolate. In general, what are your thoughts?"

He shook his head. "Oh no, I don't eat sugar."

I gulped. "Ever."

"Never."

And. We. Were. Done.

Abort, my mind screamed, abort now, while my wolf whined. Probably because I'd put myself through this torture, when we'd already met our mate.

I pushed my plate away, even though I was nowhere near finished.

"I don't think this is going to work." I said quietly. "I'm very sorry."

He nodded, clearly having already come to the same conclusion. "I understand." He stood up, graceful in his unhurried movement.

"May I drive you home?" I asked – because I was still being a gentleman – while hoping he would say no. We'd met at the restaurant, but he'd told me he didn't drive, so I assumed he'd taken a car service. The least I could do was save him the ride fare.

He shook his head. "My father is waiting in the parking lot. "

I blinked again. He probably thought I had some weird eye condition, with the amount of blinking I was doing. Maybe I wasn't actually blinking. Maybe my eyes had taken to twitching. It seemed probable after the day I'd had.

"I see." I really didn't see. Not at all. He was an adult. Had his father chaperoned him? Did people still do that?

My wolf snickered again, with no trace of sympathy. You wanted a good little house omega, what did you expect? That they would drive?

"Thank you for a lovely evening," he told me. "I do hope you find what you are looking for."

I watched him leave the restaurant, and sat back down with a huff, my bad mood from this morning returning. Dammit, I was finishing my steak. It was a damn good steak. Thick and juicy, seasoned to perfection, and the perfect amount of rare.

What the hell had he meant by he'd hoped I'd find what I was looking for? I'd thought he was exactly what I was looking for. Clearly, I was wrong. So very wrong. Maybe I needed someone not quite so traditional, but still somewhat traditional? Who was I kidding? It was clear I didn't have a clue what I wanted, not really. I wanted to make my father happy, even though he'd been gone for so long. I wanted to be the alpha he'd expected me to be.

But what about what you want? my wolf questioned. When do you get what you want?

I pulled out my phone, and hit my contacts for Wade.

"Why are you calling me?" his snarky, slightly nasally, ‘I have a cold' voice demanded. "Aren't you off finding your perfect omega?" His tone told me exactly what he thought of my plan. He'd also never been shy about his opinions of my plan, or any of the ‘appropriate' people I had dated .

Chewing, I grimaced, and countered, "Why aren't you passed out on cold medicine?"

"I slept all freaking day," he snuffled into the phone. "Now I'll probably be up all night, and be shit tomorrow, while I try to unravel the mess you've made of your calendar."

"I see someone is being extra tonight." I scooped a bite of potato in my mouth, savoring the butter, cheese, sour cream and bacon. It was loaded with everything they could load it with. Yum, carbs.

He blew his nose in my ear. "I was born extra. It's like you don't even know me. Now, answer my question."

"The date is over," I told him. "He wasn't for me, or I wasn't for him. We weren't for each other. No chemistry."

"I wasn't aware chemistry was on your list of criteria," he primly pointed out to me.

"Oh, someone has jokes tonight." I was regretting calling him already. I should have called one of my brothers, but I didn't want to be harassed by them either. None of them thought my quest for a perfect, traditional omega was a great idea.

I had to admit Wade was probably right. I hadn't put chemistry into the mix of my wants. I guess I had just assumed when I found the right omega, the chemistry would be a guaranteed thing.

Quinn's face flashed in my mind, his wild hair, and shining eyes, and I pushed it away. I needed to stop thinking about him.

"He's a vegetarian," I told him.

"The horror!" He put any and all acting skills behind that sentence. I could almost see his hand over his heart, his eyes wide.

"He doesn't eat sugar." I could hear my own horrified tone.

Wade laughed outright this time. "There's the deal breaker."

"Shut it," I grouched. "I don't even know why I put up with you."

"Because I'm the best damn PA you'll ever find, and you know it."

He wasn't wrong.

"May I have Quinn's phone number?" I asked politely, then tacked on a "Please."

Silence followed my question. Wade was never silent, or still, so I was a little concerned. Had he overdosed on cold medicine, and fallen into a coma? Should I send help?

"Okay, couple of things," he finally responded, and I braced myself. Because when Wade started any sentence with ‘A couple of things', you braced yourself.

"One, I would never give Quinn's personal phone number out without his permission. That goes under things friends just don't do. Two, why do you want it?" he asked suspiciously. "Didn't you cause enough trouble today?"

I really couldn't say, ‘I think he's my fated mate, and I can't stop thinking about him, and I want to sniff him again, possibly lick all his parts, because he smells like the best thing ever baked and I need a bite of it. Also, I forgot to get his number when I was apologizing for being the biggest ass in the world this morning'. I mean, that could be construed as creepy.

"I wanted to set up a meeting about the brunch for the office." That wasn't a total lie.

I heard Wade humming and could almost picture him tapping his lips with his index finger.

"That's why you pay me, need I remind you? Besides, it's past his bedtime, so even I can't call him to set a date right now, so it will have to wait until tomorrow. When I'm in the office, and can do my job," he reminded me, yet again. It was also his way of telling me to not mess with my own calendar, without saying the actual words. "I already emailed him about it, and I will follow up first thing in the morning. "

I glanced at my watch, as I laid my credit card down on top of my bill, and the waiter scooped it up. "It's only nine-thirty."

"He has an eight-thirty bedtime," he told me, and I couldn't help the laugh that popped out of my mouth.

"I'm not even kidding with this, Lachlan. He gets up at some freakishly ungodly hour, to get into the bakery. He is lights-out at eight-thirty, and he puts his phone on silent. The world could end, or I could die – which is the same thing – and he wouldn't know until his alarm goes off."

Well…that actually made perfect sense. I never really thought about how all the baked goodies ended up in the case when the bakery opened, but it wasn't by some kind of Fae magic.

"Fine," I huffed. "Set it up tomorrow, and let me know the date and time. It needs to be soon."

Because I was running out of time to get this done, and because I wanted – needed – to see Quinn again. The week ban was too long to wait.

"I'm well aware you are behind on some things. I'll add it to my list," Wade assured me. "Now, I'm going to drink my weight in cold medicine, and try to pass out. Again."

"You're pretty tiny, so that won't take long. See you tomorrow." I disconnected the call, stuffed my card back in my wallet, and left the restaurant.

If my dreams that night were plagued by a green-eyed black leopard who smelled like cookies, it was just a coincidence.

I got to the office the next morning, later than usual. I'd woken up in a hot sweat a half a dozen times, along with a raging hard on, after dreams of Quinn had plagued me all night.

I was more than grateful to see Wade already at his desk, even if he was a little red eyed, and red nosed. At least he was here.

I'd never, ever, admit to him that things ran smoother – I ran smoother – when he was here. My anxiety skyrocketed when Wade was unexpectedly absent. I smiled, and he slid a steaming cup of sweet, cinnamon smelling goodness my way. I noticed The Sweet Spot logo on the cup.

"How?" I raised a dark brow at him.

He glanced up from his computer screen and deadpanned. "I sold my soul to the devil."

I closed my eyes, inhaling the nectar of the Gods. "Worth it."

He rolled his gray eyes at me. "At least he's giving you coffee. I'd hate to listen to you whine all week about the swill in the break room."

I made my way into my inner sanctum, sitting at my desk. Wade followed, and plopped down in one of the vacant chairs in front. This was our usual morning. Coffee, some BS, and going over the day's schedule.

"I'm banned for a week," I told him, savoring my sip of sweet caffeine.

He raised a dark brow, which was a sharp contrast to his newly teal hair. "That must have been some apology."

I smirked, sipping my coffee, and gave him a wolfish smile. "I can be charming, you know? "

He snorted, then grabbed a tissue from my desk, and blew his still leaking nose. "Please, that charming nonsense doesn't work on Quinn. Trust me."

I shrugged. Something had worked. I thought about telling Wade I thought Quinn was my mate – my fated mate – but I wasn't ready for all that would entail just yet. Wade was Quinn's best friend, and my employee. Yes, we were friends, but it would be awkward.

I wasn't sure about anything just yet, not even if Quinn felt the same things I felt. I knew he was attracted to me. I could smell the arousal oozing off of him, each time we were in the same room. Granted, it had only been twice, but I was ready to rectify that.

Attraction didn't mean you actually liked the person you were attracted to. First meetings aside, there was a part of me – a big part – that wanted Quinn to like me. I may have been crazy confused about all the things I was feeling, but I was sure I wanted to see him again.

"Were you able to set up a meeting with Quinn?" I asked, eying the blueberry muffin Wade had pulled out of thin air, and was taking a big bite out of.

In front of me.

I knew that muffin. That was one of Quinn's muffins.

I stared at the muffin with narrowed eyes, then pointed a finger at the blueberry delight and demanded, "How?"

Wade shrugged. "I can be charming too. Besides, best friends since we were six. I know where all the bodies are buried."

I growled.

He smirked. "Simmer down. I have a secret weapon."

I waved a hand in the air. "Care to share?" I could use all the help I could get where Quinn Rafferty was concerned.

He took another big bite, eyeing me over the top of the muffin .

I bet he couldn't even taste the damn thing with his cold. He was just being mean.

"I have a Gigi," he mumbled around his mouth full of breakfast treat.

I wrinkled my nose. "I don't have a clue what that means? Do I even want to know?"

He stood up with a flourish, bouncing on his feet. "I'll never tell. It's my secret weapon. Your meeting with Quinn is set for tomorrow night at five. He'll have some samples for you, and you can go over specifics and pick the menu. Don't fuck this up," he ordered, stopping in the doorway.

"Oh, and call your brother. I'm not your message taker, you know?" He flounced back to his desk, pert but red nose, in the air.

I shook my head at his theatrics. "You literally are paid to be my message taker," I yelled out to him. "Which brother?"

"The Fun Killer," he yelled back.

So, Finn, then. I should have guessed from Wade's reaction. Wade and my brother Finn had what you would call a hate/hate relationship. I wasn't sure what had sparked it, but neither seemed inclined to call a truce anytime in the near future. Or ever.

I glanced at my cell phone, noticing I'd missed several messages in our brother group chat. I'd put my phone on silent at the beginning of my date the night before, and I hadn't taken it off. I scanned down, skipping the first few.

Jamie: Jesus, is he dead? What the fuck? Don't be a dick, Lach.

Brendan: Christ, he's probably busy, I know I am. It is the busy season, you know.

Finn: I hate that you made me have to call your office, and talk to He Who Shall Not Be Named, Lach. You owe me .

Good Goddess, when did everyone in my life become so dramatic? I'd been a half hour late, and hadn't bothered to check my phone. Sometimes a guy needed to rub one out in the shower. Or two.

Me: My God, I overslept. Everyone, calm down. What's going on? And Finn, get over it. Wade's the best PA I've ever had. You didn't need to call my office, you chose to. Whatever issues you're having are self-inflicted.

Jamie: We need to discuss Christmas Eve dinner. Mom is out of control. Can you guys come by the club tomorrow night to discuss?

I immediately thought of my meeting with Quinn, and Quinn's baked goods. His eyes, and wild hair, those beautiful hands of his, and his enticing smell.

Nope, no can do. Hard pass. I wasn't missing that meeting.

Me: I can't tomorrow, I have a meeting. Thursday would be better for me.

Finn: Me too. I have late clinic hours tomorrow for special patients.

I could almost hear Jamie huff over the text line.

Jamie: Fine, Thursday night at Playgrounds. Does seven work for everyone? I'm warning you now, I have an event going on that night, so no comments from anyone. Lach, I'm talking to you.

Me: What did I do? What kind of event?

Jamie: Santa will be in the club.

I shrugged, not really understanding why Santa being at the club would be a big deal. A kink club seemed an odd choice to have Santa at all, but maybe there was a kink for that too.

Brendan: Will it get you off our backs?

Jamie: I could keep all the inside info I have for what Mom has planned to myself. It doesn't really concern me anyway. Your choice. Lach on the other hand might need to worry…

Brendan: Don't be a brat, Jamie, just because you're the youngest.

Jamie: I'm not one of your boys, Bren, don't talk to me like I am.

Me: Enough! We'll all be there. Thursday at 7. Everyone, get back to work. Except you Jamie, you…do whatever you do in daylight hours.

Sometimes, being the oldest was a pain in my ass.