Chapter Two #3
“Where is your car?” He looked out to the dirt lot in front of us before his eyes got wide. “You could have parked inside. The gate is to keep out solicitors or guests who get lost, that’s all.”
I didn’t bother to tell him that my car was actually stuck.
“I’ll make a note of that for next time.
I am sorry if this is rude.” I had put as much effort into the basket as I could’ve in a short time, and I hated that it wasn’t bringing out positive emotions.
This interview was already starting off poorly.
“Come on, pet, let’s get you out of the heat.” He took the basket from me and stepped aside, motioning for me to squeeze past him.
I did, not even making it fully over the threshold before I stopped, the scent of omega, of firewood, invading my nose.
My jaw dropped as I simply stared at this male, this omega.
Despite smelling like a ranch, like horse and sweat and heat and man, there was his underlying designation scent of firewood.
I hadn’t noticed at first. Being this close to him, it almost made me want to reach out and touch him, to see if he’d be as hot as his scent implied.
That would have been ridiculous though.
More ridiculous than noticing his nostrils flare and his eyebrows lower as if he didn’t like my scent.
Impossible, because I wasn’t wearing one.
Technically, even betas had a natural scent, but ours were so limited, so mild, it only came out in moments of extreme emotion. So he couldn’t dislike mine.
I forced myself to enter the house, almost swaying back into the omega by the strong scents inside. It was typical of a pack house to have multiple scents saturated into the walls and furniture and clothes, only this house had my mouth literally watering.
Firewood, crackling and burning. Something sweet, like syrup, the pure artificial kind with loads of sugar rather than the true sap, bitter flavor from trees. Crackers, the type soaked in honey that I eat late at night and that I’m told go really well with marshmallows and chocolate.
It felt safe. The house. The scents.
They were distracting, so much so that I’d forgotten to keep walking in the house until I felt the warmth of a hand on my lower back. I jumped, moving away from the touch and finally entering the house properly.
They had an actual foyer with a rack for shoes, coats, and even one for hats.
Both ten-gallon and baseball. A large rectangular rug was in the round space which might have looked weird except it seemed to direct you where to walk.
Straight through to the back, I could make out a kitchen, and that’s where he led me.
A quick glance down the halls as we passed showed a living room to the right and a formal dining space to the left.
Just like my apartment, albeit on a larger and nicer scale, the kitchen was mostly enclosed, even going so far that the entranceway with the foyer had a pocket door to completely close off the kitchen.
The space was darker than I’d expected, not from the lack of windows, just in tone.
With dark wood flooring, and the stones that make up the exterior of the house completely exposed, it made the space feel rustic.
Still, I saw the modern amenities. The stove and burners were a brand I’d never heard of, so I knew they would be fancy.
Pots and pans dangled from the ceiling and the cupboards didn’t have any knobs, most likely having an invisible, indented finger hold along the bottom and sides.
The kitchen felt like it was nearly the size of my apartment. I doubted that was literally true, but it felt large.
Off to the right was an open style pantry, showing off cans and boxes and spices and containers full of food to the point that there was an actual ladder attached to the shelves like a fancy library.
Was this kitchen heaven?
“You seem impressed,” the omega said.
I nodded. “I am. I can see a cook’s love in this design.” It almost made me wonder why the men didn’t hire a private chef rather than a home manager.
He laughed, the basket still in his hand. “I’m glad you like it. I can give you a tour of the rest of the house if you’d like?”
“Is Franklyn Oaks here? I believe I still have an interview to do.” As much as I wanted the tour, that should probably come after I got the job.
“Oaks is running late,” he said.
And I realized just then that I didn’t know his name.
I gasped, the sound rushing out of me before I thought better of it.
“What? What’s wrong? It’s fine, Oaks will be here soon—”
“I didn’t even ask your name. Oh, how rude of me, and I’d already offended you with the gift basket, this is not going well at all.
I swear, I’m usually much more together than this.
When I worked with the OC, I was more than competent in handling the different designations.
I think being let go has shaken my confidence slightly.
Maybe we should reschedule?” My words came out like an overflow run-off, one after the other after the other, not even giving me time to breathe as I tried to apologize and explain all in one breath.
“Hey, hey, pet, it’s all right.” The omega, whose name I still didn’t know, stepped forward, the basket dropped to the floor so he could reach out and cup my face.
His hands were rough, and large. In fact, all of him was large.
Omegas tended to be small and lithe, and while he was the latter, he was definitely not the former.
He was nearly a foot taller than me. “You didn’t offend me, I promise.
And if anyone is to blame for impropriety, it’s me.
I didn’t tell you my name. It’s Atlas, by the way. ”
“It’s nice to meet you, Atlas.” I bit my bottom lip, dropping my gaze from his sweet brown eyes. “Sorry for the word vomit.”
He cocked his head to the side as he stared down at me. “You apologize a lot.”
“Sorry.”
“See what I mean?”
I was about to apologize again when he chuckled, dropping his hands.
“Let’s break this cycle, hm? Oaks is running late, it’s why he had me meet you here.
I’m the only one that actually works on Pink Lady every day.
Everett runs a vet clinic in the city and Oaks works over at the main building, but he got some sort of tax-emergency call.
I’m not sure what is considered a tax emergency, just that it means he probably won’t make it in time for this interview. ”
“So, I should reschedule?”
“Nah. I’ll interview you.” The way he said the words, with a little smirk on his lips, had my body heating.
Which was terrifying. There should be no warmth in my body from any male’s words. Especially not a mated one’s. Especially, especially not a mated omega’s.
For the rest of the time in that house, I was trapped in my own head, in my thoughts.
I’d barely noticed the sunken living room, the decorations on the walls, the single main bedroom on one side of the house and two guest rooms on the other, or the garden out back which was already prepped for spring and summer vegetables and herbs.
Even from my lacking mental state, I still managed to notice how amazing their home was.
Atlas carried the basket of goodies with him from room to room, only bothering to set it down when we’d reached his bedroom.
I hadn’t been able to do more than look inside and hold my breath since the scent of all three members of the pack was strongest there, making me nearly desperate to go inside and climb onto the bed.
I’d never had a reaction toward a pack before.
It was more unsettling than I’d thought it would be.
My reactions weren’t as strong as an omegas or alphas, and honestly, it made me respect the other designations more.
If I was struggling to not throw my arms around Atlas, I couldn’t imagine how impossible it was for bonded and courting packs to restrain themselves.
I glanced at Atlas, silently wondering if he was also fighting his instincts or if my strange obsession was solely one sided. Probably the latter.