Chapter 4
Logan
Parker’s voice was in my head every time I worked on my motorcycle. They’re unsafe. Why would you take the risk?
Fun was never an answer Parker accepted, but my pack mate had mostly accepted he couldn’t get me to stop riding with statistics.
I didn’t have a lot of connections to my old life besides the tattoos on my skin, but this bike was one of them.
Nostalgia alone would’ve been enough for me to keep it in running condition.
I glanced up, seeing a pink-garbed goddess with sunlit golden hair and curves for days jogging up the sidewalk with a stroller in front of her. I fumbled my wrench, the sound of metal clattering against concrete startling me.
She slowed her pace, drinking from a water bottle tucked into the top of the stroller, and I instantly cursed the fact that I probably looked like I’d been rolling around in an engine.
I was absolutely staring, but just because I knew that didn’t mean I was capable of stopping. The second she got close, my mouth raced ahead of my brain. “Hey, mama.”
She paused, bright blue eyes snaring me into place as surely as the gaze of a lioness would if I were an antelope on the savanna.
“Are you new to the neighborhood?” I continued, trying to nudge things into the realm of normal conversation. “I haven’t seen you around before.”
“Not particularly new.”
Don’t stare at her lips. Or her legs…or the swell of her breasts practically spilling over the top of her sports bra.
I had to pull myself together fast, or she was going to think I was a total weirdo. “How old is the kiddo?”
She pulled back the sunshade, gazing down lovingly at the baby beneath it. “Four months. He’s cute as hell, right?”
I wasn’t really sure what the scale of baby cuteness was, but I could appreciate chubby cheeks. “Cutest I’ve seen for a while.”
“Good answer.” Her laugh was fucking adorable.
“Your pack isn’t out running with you?”
She shrugged. “I don’t have one of those.”
Be cool, Logan. Be. Fucking. Cool.
I should not have been eyeballing this exquisite woman. I had no business getting involved with a single mother.
“No alpha at all? Am I gonna have to kick someone’s ass?” What kind of man got someone pregnant and didn’t stick around?
My chest puffed up with pride at earning myself another laugh.
“No ass-kicking needed. My little sapling has dads, they’re just not with me in any capacity.”
That only created more questions. How did the baby have a pack of fathers, but they weren’t with her? Unfortunately, the likelihood of her divulging that info to a stranger meant answers would be in short supply.
“How about some company on your jog?”
She eyed my attire—a stained T-shirt and the jeans I always wore when working on my bike. “Do you regularly jog in jeans?”
“If you want to see me in gray sweatpants, you just have to ask.”
Her laugh turned into a full cackle that left her wheezing and reaching for her water bottle. The baby laughed too, following her lead. “You know what? I’m going to let you walk with us because you’re fucking hilarious.”
It was a damn good thing I wasn’t actually wearing sweatpants, because the moment I got close enough to catch her sweet peony scent, my cock was trying to bust through my zipper.
Holy fuck.
She smelled as good as she looked.
“Are you going to leave your bike baby out in the open or put it to bed?” She nodded in the direction of my motorcycle propped in the driveway.
The odds of theft were low in our gated community, but not impossible. “One second.”
“I’ll walk slowly,” she promised, adjusting the sunshade on the stroller and setting off again.
I rushed through getting the bike back into the garage and closing it up before sprinting down the sidewalk to reach her.
“You made it.” She beamed up at me when I skidded, slowing next to her.
I couldn’t help but imagine how she would look tucked against me. She was a lot taller than most omegas I had ever seen, but she would still fit perfectly with her head beneath my chin. I wouldn’t have to bend so far to kiss her.
I shouldn’t have been thinking about that either.
Her gaze traced over the tattoos trailing down my arms and peeking above the collar of my T-shirt, every sweep of her eyes like a tangible caress.
“I bet those cost a pretty penny.”
“Not when you know people who have a tattoo gun and a reckless disregard for regulations.”
Her eyes widened. “I always wanted tattoos, but I could never decide what to get.”
“Well, if you ever make a decision, I could do one for you.”
“With your unregulated tattoo gun?” she asked with a smile that was like a slug to the gut, knocking me breathless.
“Nah, only the most regulated for gorgeous mamas.”
“You flirt with everyone you run into on the streets?” She tilted her head, blue eyes piercing straight through me. No doubt she could see right into a man’s soul and find all the ways to humble him.
“Only the most beautiful.” I shrugged, not willing to elaborate more than that. Truthfully, I didn’t interact with most people in the neighborhood. I was friendly as needed, but willingly talking to strangers wasn’t high on my to-do list.
She laughed again, whacking me in the shoulder. “Stop that. I know I’m cute as a fucking button, but some of the ladies down here are next level.”
I shrugged again, tucking my hands into my pockets. “If I believed in levels, you’d be at the top.”
“Okay, Flirty McFlirtpants. So, what do you do when you’re not working on motorcycles and charming neighborhood omegas?”
“Business.” That was the easiest explanation, since my pack and I had our fingers in so many different pies at this point.
Hunter had his record label, Parker was into investments and had a medical airline, Avery had his omega housing foundation.
I kept the pack organized, fed, and services running smoothly, but we were all over each other’s businesses.
“Is that code for something? Are you secretly in the mob?”
Her question caught me off guard, and I barked out a laugh. “Not anymore,” I said with a wink.
I had never been in the mob, but I had definitely gotten involved with the wrong people growing up.
“Oh my god. Stop being so fucking unreadable.”
I offered what I hoped was an understanding smile. “No can do. I’m both an acquired taste and a new language you’ll have to get acquainted with. Interested in taking a lesson, mama?”
My pink and gold beauty puffed up her cheeks. “Quit saying things that make me wish I didn’t have a baby with me right now.”
A thrill shot through me. The slightest acknowledgment that she might be interested in me was potent as hell.
I couldn’t help noticing the way she white-knuckled the stroller or the flush that went from her cheeks all the way down to her chest. Not a sunburn. A reaction—to me.
This was all too fucking messy. If I was smart, I would go right back home and forget about her. She had a baby with a pack she wasn’t with, but obviously had been, and fairly recently too. A pack and a child were complications I didn’t know how to approach.
Taking the angle of spontaneous fun was fine from my end, it wasn’t exactly ideal from hers.
Even if the other alphas in her life were involved parents, getting into things with a mother came with specific responsibilities.
My pack and I couldn’t have her and not the kid.
I would never suggest such a thing, anyway.
I wasn’t against kids; I just wasn’t used to them, but either way I couldn’t imagine she was anxious to get with another pack after the last one hadn’t worked out.
I knew how to wine and dine, but how the hell was I supposed to get a baby to like me so I had an actual chance with their mom?
The Internet probably had some answers. Babies couldn’t be that hard to please at this age.
They didn’t even do anything when they were this small.
It wasn’t like I could supervise swimming lessons or take them to Little League.
Though, I had seen videos of people teaching infants to swim, but being responsible for a human potato without any actual survival skills sounded stressful. Better to not risk it.
Something had to be going on. Maybe I had inhaled too much exhaust and it was affecting my brain. No strings made things so much easier, and here I was thinking about how I could get tangled up with this omega.
“Do I get to know your name?”
She plucked up her water bottle, taking a long enough drink that I worried she wasn’t going to answer. “Do I get to know yours? You haven’t exactly been free with the personal information on this walk.”
I hesitated. If she knew my name, then she could look me up, and if she looked me up, then I might be faced with the reality that she would agree to a date only because of my money.
Was my first name sufficient to give her what she wanted and still protect my identity?
Some people needed so little to find every skeleton in your closet.
“You don’t have to,” she said slowly, “but I’m not telling you mine if you’re not sharing. I gotta say, it does make you pretty fucking suspicious if you won’t tell me, though.”
Fuck.
“It’s Logan.”
She eyed me shrewdly. “Clover.”
I swept my gaze over the grass we passed, looking for the wayward weed the HOA was always at war with. “Where? They’re gonna get in shit if they have it on their lawn.”
“No, my name is Clover.”
“Oh. That’s cute. Pretty name for a pretty lady.”
“Liar,” she said with a laugh. “It’s a weird name, you don’t have to love it. I’ll be offended, but I won’t hold it against you too much.”
“No way. It is cute, but I’ve never heard it as a name for a human before.”
“Happy to be your introduction to non-boring names.” She frowned at the yard we’d briefly paused in front of. “I will never understand people’s obsessions with their lawns. Flowers are prettier and feed the bees! You’re not a lawn guy, are you? I’m gonna have to judge you if you are.”
Shit. I wasn’t, but Parker was. Our front yard was manicured to within an inch of its life.
“What people do with their own bushes is their business.” My cheeks warmed.
That was probably the wrong terminology, so I quickly added, “I honestly haven’t given that much thought to what people do with their yards. ”
Clover did the adorable cheek puff again. “You’re missing out on the time-honored hobby of judging the taste of strangers when you walk around.”
“What if I just agreed with you on how you judge their taste? Unconditional support and all that.”
“I like the way you think.” Clover nodded decisively.
I had never actually paid attention to how my neighbors decorated their yards, but I was definitely treated to a dissection of styles and ornaments while we walked.
It was more interesting than it had any right to be.
In a weird way, it felt like I was gaining insight into the people that had surrounded me for years, but more than that, it gave me a lot of information on Clover herself.
Terra-cotta roof tiles? She loved them, along with the rest of what she called Spanish colonial style.
She didn’t like the colonial part of that, only the aesthetic.
Garden gnomes? She worried about those coming to life in the night.
Poppies of every color? She wanted a whole yard of them.
Sunflowers were a close second, but poppies grew faster.
Logan:
Order poppies for the front yard
Parker:
No. Why?
Logan:
Just work with me on this
Parker:
Is this a sudden interest in gardening, or are you trying to impress someone?
Logan:
I think we both know the answer to that
Parker:
Fine. But I’m not happy about it. What color and variety?
Logan:
I only know any color is cool
I could picture the roll of his eyes perfectly. Parker was a stickler about a lot of things, but if he knew it was important, he was usually willing to roll with it.
Hopefully the next time Clover and I crossed paths after this, she would notice. And if not, then I would just have to cut them all down into a bouquet and give Parker an aneurysm for fucking with the yard.
The baby in the stroller fussed.
“Are you hungry again?” Clover rounded the stroller, her nose instantly wrinkling. “Oh good, the other thing. All right. Let’s get you home.” She turned to me with a regretful smile. “I’ve got to get this stinky little man back, but it was nice to meet you. Later, gator.”
Clover took off at a brisk jog, and I couldn’t quite decide how pathetic it would be if I tried to run after her. She was nimble as fuck and quickly upped her speed, disappearing around the corner before I could make any real decision.
Fuck my life.
I didn’t have more than her first name and the knowledge that she lived somewhere in the gated community.
I couldn’t blame her for bolting over a diaper emergency, but I had hoped to probe a little deeper on the rest of our walk.
Now I was shit out of luck, and an omega I had no business entertaining was going to live rent free in my head.