Chapter Fourteen

Tate

Roaming around Bronson’s house searching for clues was wrong. Snooping in his things. Checking out his medicine cabinet. The other bedrooms. The basement. All of it was wrong and nosey and paranoid of me, but I did it anyway.

There had to be a catch to all his niceness, right? Alphas didn’t just show up, angels in the darkness, and rescue omegas from death. They courted them hard, love-bombed them until they couldn’t think straight, only to leave them lonelier next to their alpha in bed and in life than they had been before them.

And then there was Bronson.

He left for work, putting his number on the table, but I didn’t call. So, he called only a few hours after he left. Was I okay? Did I need anything? He could make it home in only a few minutes if I needed anything.

I wasn’t allowed to ask Ryder to make me a cup of coffee the morning after my miscarriage.

Things got really bad after losing the baby. His meanness and abuse became nonstop. Before that, there were moments of sweetness. Kindness. Even shadows of love.

Not after losing the baby.

I was pathetic.

Worthless.

Useless.

And it was only a matter of time before Ryder said he would find an omega who knew how not to lose a baby.

Claimed I got rid of it on purpose somehow.

The baby in my belly had become my life in those short six weeks.

I would’ve loved that baby with my whole life.

He was the one who struck out, knocked me to the floor, and made me lose it.

So here I was, searching for Bronson’s secrets but finding none.

The man kept his house spotless. There was a chance he had a housekeeper, but he didn’t seem the type. When he drained the tub of water, he rinsed all the bath bomb stuff out and got on his hands and knees to scrub the tub.

People with housekeepers didn’t do that.

This man, this alpha, this wolf male, well, I was quite sure he was my fated mate.

With no dirt to dig up, I made myself at home on the sofa and turned on the TV, going straight to YouTube. I could tell a lot about a male, or any person for that matter, by their watch history and whether or not they had said history turned off.

Bronson not only had his turned on but filled with home repairs and DIY things, along with some sex furniture videos. Not porn but videos from the manufacturers.

Interesting.

I didn’t see any dungeons or shady rooms. Maybe there was a hidden room I didn’t see.

I’d turned on one of the free-with-ads movies and gotten comfortable when I heard the garage door open. It was before midnight, but with the pain medicine-induced napping all day and then another deep sleep when I arrived at his house, I was wide awake.

My tummy fluttered hearing him shut the door to his car and then open the kitchen door afterward. The alarm system announced him as well. Or, rather, announced the entrance of someone.

I panicked for a second, thinking that maybe, somehow, Ryder had found me and was here, until the sweet scent of whiskey and lemon filled my senses.

Turning around, I saw him put his keys on a hook and his wallet and phone in a bowl on the table near a door. Everything he did was with purpose.

“Hi,” I said, not wanting to alarm him. He lived alone. Maybe he’d forgotten I was here at all.

“Hi, yourself. I thought you’d be asleep.”

I shrugged and pushed the button to turn off the TV. “I couldn’t sleep anymore. I feel like I’ve been doing nothing but sleeping for days and days.”

“You kind of have.” He came over to sit next to me. Too far for my liking and my wolf’s craving but close enough that he felt comfortable around me. “Are you hungry?”

I nodded. “A little, but I can make myself something. I won’t make a mess.”

Bronson cocked his head and squinted. “Even if you do, it’s okay. Everyone makes a mess when they cook. We clean it up.”

We. We clean it up. Ryder never lifted a fucking finger in our house. His house, rather.

“Oh, okay.” I moved to get up. Bronson was up in an instant, helping to lift me. As I stood, our eyes met. Our faces only a breath away.

His eyes flicked to my mouth while he licked his bottom lip. He was gorgeous from across the room but, up close, I was convinced the goddess carved him with her own hands. There was a golden ring around his pupil. Almost bronze. I hadn’t seen that before. “I can make you something to eat.”

“You don’t have to,” I protested mildly. “I shouldn’t be hungry at all, after the snacks you made me.” Which I had gobbled up shortly after he left.

“I want to,” he murmured and before I could say anything else, he lifted me up, honeymoon-style, gentler with me than I’d ever been touched.

Somehow I knew Bronson was capable of being less so if I wanted him to. Less gentle, but nonetheless caring. But always, always in control.

He sat me down on a barstool and went to work, letting me approve things before he cooked them. He made a simple meal of chicken and stars soup from a can and grilled cheese triangles. I spotted more of my favorite soups in the pantry before he closed it, along with teddy bear cookies. Interesting.

My stomach sank. Did he entertain littles here? Was that why he had things stocked?

“What?” he asked, cocking his head sideways. “Your scent changed.”

“Nothing,” I lied. “Thinking.”

He nodded. “I’ve got water, milk, and orange juice in the fridge. I also have chocolate milk and juice boxes in the pantry.”

“Do you have kids?” I asked, curious but not wanting to pry. Okay, I was totally prying.

“I don’t. I keep a good stock in case my nieces and nephews come over.”

“Oh,” I whispered. Damn it. I wished he would’ve said he had littles over. And at the same time, I was glad he didn’t.

We moved to the living room and, since I couldn’t decide on a drink, he brought me one of each. Sweet alpha. When I sank into the lush sofa, my body decided it had enough, and I found myself devoid of any kind of energy to eat.

“Are you tired again?” he asked, sitting next to me. Closer than before.

“I am. I’m hungry but so tired.”

“Would you let me feed you, omega?” He breathed the words, filling me with hope and a joy I hadn’t experienced in far too long.

“You wouldn’t mind?” Daddy? The word hung on my tongue, but I feared it wasn’t the right time.

“Not at all, sweetheart. Open up. Let me take care of you.”