Chapter 7
I’m shoving the enormous pile of laundry that I’ve been putting off doing in the washer when my phone vibrates against my thigh.
Fucking finally.
I’m dying to know what the hell Ambrose meant about his “unusual” omega encounter. It’s not every day that our resident calm and collected doctor gets so flustered.
Still can’t believe he jacked off at work. Who knew the dirty old man had it in him?
Of course, right when he was about to tell us more details, he goes and disappears because “work needs him”. Talk about conversational blue balls.
I’ve spent the last hour coming up with ideas of what might make this omega so unusual and texting my guesses to the group chat.
She’s a celebrity in disguise.
She’s lost all her memory and doesn’t know her own name.
She’s on the run from the law.
Maybe she’s all three!
I want to loop River into my guessing game, but his office door is shut—his signal that he’s working and doesn’t have time to chat.
It sucks. I want to talk to someone. I don’t want to be spending my night doing laundry, even though I desperately need to.
Tonight was supposed to be a pack hangout. We were going to watch the new season of Omega’s Choice and make fun of the pompous alphaholes together. I’d already started making snacks.
Yet here I am, waiting for someone to give me a scrap of attention. Even Dahlia is asleep.
Yes, I’m being melodramatic. But I’m bored!
Also, a bit butthurt because as soon as Ambrose got the call to fill in for someone at work, River headed off to sequester himself in his room without even considering doing something else together, just the two of us.
Rationally, I know he didn’t mean to be rude and that he’s slammed at work. It’s just hard not to get pissy when your best friend for over a decade doesn’t prioritize spending time together unless his boyfriend is there too.
I scramble to pull my phone out of my pocket, eager for any kind of interaction, and almost drop it onto the hard laundry room floor in my haste. Holding it with both hands so I don’t end up with a cracked screen yet again, I unlock the screen.
Damn, the notification isn’t a message from Ambrose. It’s from work’s automated system.
My disappointment at not getting more details about the mysterious omega doesn’t last long as I read it over.
Client Booking—First Time Heat Services.
Requires availability starting tonight (as soon as possible) for the full duration of heat. Unbonded omega with no pack ties, 1 other heat minder to be confirmed (Theresa, alpha).
Oh, hell yeah, finally!
It’s been almost a month since my last booking. Both of my regulars found their packs, which is great for them, but shit for my wallet. I’ve been on the call list for weeks, and was starting to worry that I’d have to look for another job. Which would suck, because I’m finally doing a job I enjoy.
I mean, it’s kind of hard not to. I get to fuck for money in a safe and comfortable environment. Alphas would pay out the nose—and probably do—to get to participate in an omega’s heat, but I’m the lucky bastard that gets to have a ton of sex, and make decent cash in the process.
A last-minute heat pays double, so I won’t feel like a piece of shit when the mortgage payment comes around this time. The guys swear they don’t mind covering it, but it’s embarrassing to leech off of them.
When I quit my soul-sucking job at the law firm, I swore to myself I wouldn’t let it affect my contributions to our pack. I have to pull my weight. A first heat with an unbonded omega could mean a steady gig for a long time.
As long as I don’t fuck it up.
I’ve had no complaints from my clients, but the perfectionist side of me is always thinking about what I could’ve done better.
I don’t want to be adequate. I want to be the best.
I text work back with my acceptance, all thoughts of boredom and frustration over my pack ignoring me gone at the prospect of this job.
Laundry will have to wait a while longer. I pile it back into the basket, grabbing one of my favorite worn out hoodies, and the shirt I worked out in earlier. Then go back and grab a pair of briefs for good measure.
Omegas like to put things saturated with their pack’s pheromones in their nest. While I’m only temporarily serving as part of this omega’s pack, it might help them feel more secure in their nest for their heat. Even if my scent isn’t as potent since I’m a beta.
Clearly, the omega liked my scent enough to choose me, so it doesn’t hurt to bring some more eau du Jackson along with me.
Just gotta make sure none of the items smell like Dahlia. One time I made the mistake of bringing a hoodie I’d worn while cuddling with her and the omega was not happy.
The girl in question lets out a sleepy grumble from my bed as I move around my bedroom, shoving things into my work bag.
She doesn’t wake up, which is good because they want me at the clinic ASAP, so I don’t have time to explain to her what’s going on.
I’ll ask River to take care of her. And of course I’ll make it up to her when I get back.
I jot down a quick note on the whiteboard we keep in the kitchen, letting them know I got an urgent job and will be gone and incommunicado for a few days. Once that’s squared away, I grab a twelve-pack of my favorite protein shakes and some of those electrolyte pouches you can add to water.
I’m picky about what I put in my body, and the stuff they provide at the clinic isn’t as good as what I buy. I know it’s vain, but I’m not losing any of the muscle mass I bust my ass for because I’m not getting enough calories while I’m working.
With all the essentials packed, I secure the bag to my bike and hit the road.
By the time I pull into a staff spot and cut the engine, my excitement about working has morphed into trepidation and a fuckton of questions.
I don’t normally stress this much, but then again, I’ve never helped an omega through their first heat.
The omegas I’ve been with know what to expect. They’re experienced. There was only one time when I hadn’t met the omega before their heat—all the other omegas have done interviews with me to assess our compatibility in person before their upcoming heat.
The young, inexperienced ones who typically have an emergency first heat situation don’t want some thirty-five-year-old beta as a heat minder.
God, another reason for me to be nervous. I don’t know if I’ll be able to get it up for some terrified, barely out of high-school omega. I don’t know if I want to be able to get it up for them.
I suck in a deep breath as I take off my helmet and get my bag, giving myself an internal pep talk as I head toward the employee entrance.
Calm down, dude. Even if they’re young, or you can’t get hard, or whatever, you can do this. You’re there to help them, and it’s not being a creep to help an omega in need.
When I first applied for the job, I assumed the only reason they hired me was because of my connection to Ambrose. I doubted anyone would select a beta when presented with a veritable buffet of eager alphas ready to take care of their needs.
My experiences at the omega clinic have proven me dead wrong.
Sure, I’m not an average omega's top choice. But there are a lot of omegas who don’t feel safe going through their heat with a strange alpha, no matter how well-vetted by the clinic they are.
I’m their best option in those situations. A big, beefy beta who can give them all the marathon banging and snuggles they need, while being non-threatening.
Plus, I’ve learned to be pretty damn handy with a fake knot and all the toys heat services provide.
Who needs an alpha when you’ve got a beta like me?
I shake my head at the cocky thought that I wish I believed. It’s close to the affirmations my therapist has me doing daily. Maybe someday they’ll actually work.
For now, I’ll have to make do knowing that Daisy wouldn’t have presented me as an option to the omega if she didn’t think I could handle it.
Besides, I’m paired up with Theresa, who has some experience with first heats, and we work really well together.
I call us the O-Team, because we’re so good at making omegas come.
Plastering on my best easygoing smile, I swipe my badge and head inside. Daisy is waiting right by the entrance, startling me a little when she exclaims my name as soon as she sees me.
“Jackson! You’re here. Amazing. Perfect.” The buxom ball of sunshine lets out a gusty exhale, clearly relieved.
“I think your pack might be a little jealous about how excited you are to see me, Daisy,” I chuckle, keeping my tone light despite her weird energy.
“You know I’d love to stand around and flirt with you, sugar, but time is of the essence. I need to brief you on the omega you’ll be servicing.” She starts off down the hallway to her office. When I don’t immediately follow, she huffs. “Well, come on.”
My brow furrows. “Shouldn’t we wait for Theresa?”
Daisy shakes her head. “She can’t make it. Sick with a nasty stomach bug. We’ll talk in my office.”
Stomach twisting with nerves again, I follow Daisy into her cheery office filled with potted plants and cute little knick knacks.
I tap the little cat bobblehead on her desk as I slide into the seat across from her desk, watching it wiggle as I try to collect myself before Daisy notices how anxious I am.
Daisy gives me a reassuring smile. “There’s no need to panic.”
I snort, leaning back in the chair and willing myself to chill the fuck out so I don’t lose this opportunity to work. “I’m not panicking. I’m a little surprised about Theresa, but I’m sure I can make it work with whoever else is helping.”
Daisy grimaces. “You’ll be on your own for this one.”
“What do you mean?”
Surely, I misheard her. Heats need at least two minders, and even that can be rough, depending on how hard the heat is riding the omega.
Doing one alone isn’t normal. I’m shocked it’s something an omega would even consider.
“No one else who is a decent match for the omega’s needs was available at such short notice. Her heat came on fast and strong and we have maybe an hour before things get really rough for her if she doesn’t get help.”
I resist the urge to wipe the sweat that’s beading on my brow. How the fuck am I supposed to do this on my own?
I suck in a deep inhale and nod. “Okay, so we get started and then another minder can join us once they’re available?”
Daisy shakes her head. “You know as well as I do that she’ll be too far gone to let a stranger come in mid-heat.”
Shit. All my pretense of chill vanishes, and I pinch between my brows, closing my eyes. “Daisy…”
“I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I didn’t think you could handle it,” she says gently. “You’re the perfect person to help with this omega. She’s in a very unusual situation.”
My eyes pop back open at her choice of words. “Unusual?”
It’s Ambrose’s omega that made him lose control. It has to be.
She laughs. “Not in a bad way! She’s lovely and had a very positive reaction to your scent card.
You’ll see for yourself when you meet her.
” Her smile falters as she passes me a stack of papers.
“If you meet her. Take a moment to read over her paperwork. I’m sorry, sugar.
I feel terrible about how much pressure this is on you, and you can decline the job if you’re uncomfortable… ”
We both know I won’t decline. What kind of asshole would I be to leave an omega in need and at risk of delirium and pain?
No, I’m going to do it. I’m probably going to need to ice my cock and balls for a week after, but I don’t back down from a challenge.
Besides, Ambrose is going to shit himself when he finds out I’m working this omega’s heat.
My cock twitches at the memory of how turned on Ambrose felt through the bond. He rarely loses control enough to let any arousal leak through the bond to me, so she’s got to be really special.
I scan the paperwork, and it doesn’t take long to realize what makes this omega unusual. “Is this a mistake?” I ask, pointing to the date of birth listed for the omega, Camille.
Daisy chuckles. “Nope. Today is her 40th birthday.”
“Whoa.” The shock melds with my relief, knowing I won’t be working a young, terrified omega’s heat. “And it’s really her first heat?”
“Yes.” Daisy nods, not commenting further on Camille’s age or situation. I appreciate she’s trying to be professional, but this is wild. I’ve never heard of an omega revealing so late.
“Whoa,” I murmur again.
A smile curves my lips as I flip through her info. On paper, we’re very compatible. If Ambrose’s reaction was any indication, things might be even more compatible once we meet.
“Okay, I’ll do it.”
The cheery blonde beta across from me doesn’t bother hiding her relief. “You will? Oh, thank god. You’re a lifesaver, honey. Truly. Camille is in excellent hands.”
An idea forms in the back of my mind as Daisy enthusiastically expresses her gratitude. A potentially terrible idea, but one that could make things easier.
“I’ll do my best and we’ll have to hope that’s enough. Unless…” I pause, wondering if I’m crazy to even consider saying what I’m thinking aloud, then push forward. “Did Camille seem like she liked Ambrose?”
Daisy’s brow knits together. “Huh?”
“You said an omega wouldn’t want a stranger joining mid-heat, but if she’d already met them and felt some compatibility…”
I don’t want to come right out and suggest Ambrose help with her heat in case Daisy thinks he mentioned an inappropriate attraction to a patient to me.
Which he totally did, but I’m not about to get my packmate fired.
Shit, maybe I shouldn’t have brought this up.
She frowns. “In that hypothetical scenario, maybe that person could join the heat. But Camille didn’t list any alphas she’d feel comfortable contacting so…”
I tense, waiting for her to connect the dots, but Daisy shakes her head. “We should get you over to meet Camille before her heat progresses.”
So much for that idea. Looks like I’m doing this heat solo. Please let me be up to the challenge.