7. Max
Chapter 7
Max
As I stroll into Café Puerta al Mar, freshly brewed coffee and sweet pastries fill the air as gentle music plays softly in the background.
The aromas of the café envelop me as I settle into the plush chair.
As the server approaches my table, I glance around the cafe and see a woman sitting at a nearby table.
Her long dark hair is tied up in a ponytail, showing me her delicate features. She’s wearing sunglasses, but then so am I. The café is bright, despite the windows having a tint, dulling the glare.
I pull the cap of my baseball hat lower as I look at her and nod my head.
She returns the nod with a subtle smile. I can’t help but wonder what lies behind that smile. If she is as happy as she appears to be.
Regardless, her presence is magnetic, and she exudes an air of mystery. I suppose sunglasses do that.
I rise from my seat and make my way over to her table. As I approach, she glances up briefly, her mouth opening slightly, her expression guarded.
“Mind if I join you?” I ask, gesturing toward the empty seat across from her.
My nose twitches, trying to smell her scent. There is something masking just how delicious it could be. Despite the lack of perfume, she’s definitely an omega, though trying to hide it and for that reason, I rein in my inner alpha.
She hesitates for a moment, considering my request as she looks me up and down. “I’m leaving soon, but you can sit.”
“Well, today might just be my lucky day,” I say, pulling out the chair and giving her my biggest smile.
“Have you won the lottery?” she deadpans, knowing the comment was aimed at her.
“I dare say, I have.” I put on a clipped British accent.
She chuckles, the sound like a melodic chime, and removes her sunglasses, revealing aqua blue eyes, almost the color of the Caribbean Sea. “And what exactly have you won?”
“The privilege of your company,” I say with a wink, as I settle into the chair across from her.
Her eyes widen slightly before she offers me a half-smile. “Well, aren’t you charming?”
“It’s been known to happen,” I reply, feigning modesty. “But I must admit, it’s not every day that I encounter someone as intriguing as yourself.”
She raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced by my flattery. “You don’t even know me.”
“I don’t, and that is something I already regret.”
“Do you?” She pauses for a moment, suddenly stopping our playful banter.
She leans back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re quite the smooth talker.”
I smile because we’re back on track.
“I try my best,” I reply with a smirk. “So, what brings you to this little café?”
She hesitates for a moment, deliberating whether to share her reason with me.
“Indulge me, a stranger. Let me know more about you.” I’m almost begging now, needing to know more about her, and after a brief contemplation, she leans forward, curiosity gleaming in her eyes.
“I’m here on a mission,” she confesses in a hushed tone, as if afraid someone might overhear. “I’m searching for something of considerable importance.”
Intrigued by her ambiguous words, I lean closer, my voice dropping to match hers. “And what might that be?”
Her gaze flickers around the café, ensuring no one is eavesdropping on our conversation. Satisfied with the lack of prying ears, she leans back and takes a deep breath.
“I’m searching for the perfect scent,” she says, her voice filled with mischief.
“Damn. And there was me thinking you were looking for a man.”
With a playful giggle, she brightens the atmosphere in the cafe. The sound is so infectious that I laugh along with her.
“Ah, sorry, I have one of those,” she replies, her eyes sparkling mischievously. “I keep my missions scent-focused.”
I hold back my need to growl at her for confirming she’s not looking for a man, not an alpha. Not that another man will stop me.
Ava Darling has always been mine , and I’m not waiting for her any longer.
And I find it hilarious she hasn’t recognized me yet.
Yes, this time, I’m not wearing a shirt and pants but shorts and a polo neck top. Though the baseball cap and sunglasses disguise me too.
I chuckle, leaning back in my chair, because I am thoroughly enjoying the banter between us and want to drag it out for as long as possible.
“Well, I must say, that’s a mission I can wholeheartedly support. So, tell me, have you discovered any promising contenders in your pursuit of the perfect scent?”
“Maybe this muffin.” Her smile widens, and she leans in closer, lowering her voice even more. “I’ve tried a few so far, but none have satisfied the criteria. I want unique, a burst of flavor that takes you by surprise.”
“A tall order indeed,” I respond with a grin. “But fear not, for I am an expert in all things scent-related. Consider me your personal guide.”
She giggles again, her laughter contagious and music to my ears.
“Well, you sound perfect,” she says, her eyes sparkling with a wicked glint. “It’s a shame you don’t taste like this muffin.”
“I taste much nicer.” I can’t help but chuckle at her playful response. Also because the omega she tries so hard to contain, is coming onto her alpha strong—almost flirting.
“Maybe you can’t find the perfect scent because you’ve been too busy wanting the ideal flavor to be sweet when it isn’t.”
She narrows her eyes and contemplates that, before shaking her head and laughing. “No way. It has to be sweet.”
Her sense of humor is infectious, and it’s clear that there’s more to her than meets the eye. As we continue to banter back and forth, I find myself being drawn more and more to her.
But between the laughter and lighthearted conversation, there are moments when her smile falters and a shadow passes over her eyes. It’s fleeting, barely noticeable, but it’s enough to make me wonder what lies beneath the surface.
“Do you have an alpha?” I ask the elephant in the room.
Her mouth opens and closes.
She takes a moment to gather her thoughts, her eyes searching mine for any signs of judgment or disappointment. Finally, she nods slowly, her voice soft when she speaks.
“Yes,” she replies, her tone tinged with worry. “I have an alpha in my life.”
Liar!
I would never let her be with another alpha.
“I see,” I breathe. “Well, I’m glad you have someone who makes you happy.”
She seems relieved by my understanding and returns my smile. “He does. And do you have an omega?”
I hesitate for a moment and nod my head. “I do.”
It’s a lie, but I like that the angst releases from her shoulders immediately.
“I’m glad,” she says softly, with genuine warmth in her voice. I smile at how comfortable she feels. “Alphas need omegas.”
I hesitate for a moment as I take that in. “And omegas need alphas,” I reply, leaning back in my chair.
She chews on her bottom lip as she shuffles in her chair, and I think for a moment she is about to flee.
“Well, lucky for us, we both like muffins. We can embark on this muffin mission together,” I say, saluting her as I try to inject a lighthearted tone into my words to settle her again. “What’s your favorite flavor? Let’s see if we can create the perfect delight.”
“You’re very British,” she says with a smile.
“And you’re an American in Europe.”
“For now.”
I nod slowly, wondering what that means. “Oh, that sounds ominous. We need to start our muffin mission immediately.”
She chuckles. “We do. Okay, tell me your favorite fruit.”
“Raspberries.”
“Me too.” She grins, tilting her head to one side. Her sea-blue eyes pierce into mine. “And cherries.”
“And I know any perfect muffin must have white chocolate.” I remove my baseball cap, placing it on my lap.
“Mm.” As she closes her eyes, I take off my sunglasses and watch as her lashes flutter softly. “Absolutely.”
When she opens her eyes, our gazes lock, and I can feel the electric current in the air. Her mouth opens on a small gasp as she says, “It’s you. You’re the man who was in Monaco.”
“It’s me.”
And it's definitely her.
The bell above the door tinkles as our eyes continue to hold each other captive.
A ripple runs down her neck as she swallows. “I can’t decide on the final flavor.”
“Ava,” a male voice says when he reaches the table. His tone is understandably aggravated. “We need to go.”
But it’s when he kisses her cheek and his eyes glare into mine that makes me want to jump over the table and squeeze his neck until he dies.
He’s a beta.
“Maybe I’ll see you again. We can both think about that final flavor.” I tap the newspaper. “My day was going so well, too. I suppose I can catch up on the news.”
She smiles at me sweetly as her beta takes her arm and I want to pull him off her.
I know I can’t react. Not yet.
“Nice talking to you.”
I nod to her. “Likewise.”
Her gaze softens, and I can see the flicker of curiosity burning in her eyes. Is she wondering what I’m thinking?
Or does she smell me like I smell her, despite the concoction she coats her body with?
“To the next time, Ava. My name is Max.”