Chapter 5
5
RUBY
T he Wednesday night crowd at my bar keeps me busy enough to almost forget about the flowers. Almost. They sit at the end of the bar, winter rose camellias in various shades of pink, making my heart skip every time I catch their sweet, floral scent mixed with the lingering memory of Garrett's kiss.
"Boss, table four needs another round." Ash's voice pulls me back to reality. My bouncer in the bar and bartender moves behind the bar, his sleeve tattoos catching the warm lighting. The nautical scenes wrapping his arms seem to move when he works, waves and ships dancing as he mixes drinks. I told him that once I make more money, I will hire a bouncer, so he focuses on the bar side of things.
I met Ash five years ago when Eve was still alive. He'd wandered in looking for work, fresh out of the Navy with too many tattoos for most places to hire him. Eve took one look at his gentle Beta nature, hiding behind that tough exterior, and hired him on the spot. Now he's more family than employee.
"You're staring at them again," he says, nodding toward the flowers while pouring drinks.
"Am not." I busy myself wiping down the already clean bar top, my skirt swishing around my knees with my fast movements. "Just making sure they're not dying."
"Uh-huh." He grins, showing the small gap between his front teeth that somehow makes him look more charming. "Nothing to do with the Alpha who sent them?"
"Just a guy I met at the festival." I throw my rag at him. "When you abandoned me for your grandmother's birthday."
"Hey!" He catches the rag with the reflexes that make him such a good bouncer. "Nana's only turning 100 once. Besides, sounds like you managed just fine without me." His eyes twinkle. "Unless there's something you're not telling me about this festival guy?"
I'm saved from answering by a customer ordering my newest brew, Midnight Porter. To me it smells and even has an aftertaste of roasted grains, chocolate, and toffee, one of the reasons it's so popular.
"We're almost out," I tell Ash as I pour. "Can't believe how fast it's selling."
"Because it's amazing. Eve would be proud—" He stops mid-sentence, eyes widening as he looks toward the door.
My heart knows who it is before I turn around.
Garrett walks in like he owns the place, all confident Alpha energy wrapped in a blue-and-black checkered shirt that stretches perfectly across his shoulders as he shoulders off his jacket. Three days' worth of stubble darkens his jaw, and his short, dark hair is slightly messed up from the snow outside. He hangs his jacket by the door, and I definitely don't watch the way his muscles move under his shirt.
"Oh," Ash whispers behind me. "That's festival guy? Damn, boss."
"Shut up," I hiss, but my whole body's already humming with awareness. My Omega instincts purr at his presence, remembering how his lips felt against mine, how his masculine scent whirls around me like protection and promise and?—
"You're drooling." Ash nudges me as Garrett chooses a quiet spot at the side of the bar, glancing my way.
I pretend I don't see him. Is it suddenly really hot here?
"Go get him, tiger, but play it cool. Alphas love the chase."
"I hate you," I whisper.
"Love you too, boss." He grins. "Now go serve your man before I do."
I take a deep breath, trying to ignore how my skin prickles with electricity as I approach, a grin dying to spread across my lips. Up close, his eyes are even greener than I remember, his lips turning upward at the corners when he sees me.
"Couldn't stay away?" I manage to sound casual despite my racing heart. "Here to check out the competition?"
His laugh does things to my insides that should be illegal. "Maybe I just missed your cardamom ale."
"Sure it wasn't my sparkling personality?"
"That, too." He leans forward slightly, and his masculine scent makes me want to bare my neck. "How've you been, Ruby?"
The way he says my name melts me. "Oh, you know. Just running my bar, avoiding Christmas spirit, the usual."
"And how's that working out?" He gestures to the subtle holiday decorations I finally put up.
"Temporary insanity. What can I get you?"
"Surprise me."
The way he says it, deep and trusting, sends shivers down my spine. I turn to hide my reaction, pulling out my special reserve glass. The porter pours dark as night with a perfect cream head, and I catch myself making it extra perfect, taking more time than usual. Since when do I try to impress Alphas?
"You always take such care with every pour?" His voice carries genuine interest, not mockery.
"Only for customers who appreciate the art." I slide the glass over, hyper-focused on how his fingers brush mine. "Though some just want whatever's cheapest and fastest."
"Their loss." He takes a slow sip, and the way his throat moves should not be this fascinating. "Perfect temperature. You know most places serve craft beer too cold?"
"Kills the flavor profile." I lean against the bar, falling into the comfortable rhythm of beer talk. "Eve used to say if you're going to do something?—"
"Do it right or not at all," he finishes. Our eyes meet, and something electric passes between us.
"You really did know her well."
"Yep. She'd let me study her recipes after hours, taught me about proper temperature control, fermentation times..." His hands move as he talks, and I notice a small scar across his right knuckle. "Eve knew everything." His smile turns softer. "Including how to spot someone who needed a chance."
The weight of memory settles in my chest, reminding me of how badly her loss still sits inside me. Time might help me accept the loss of a loved one, but I find time also deepens the ache. Noticing a new customer, I excuse myself and get busy making another customer's whiskey sour, too aware of Garrett's gaze following my movements.
"You're different here," he says when I return. "More... yourself."
"This is my territory." I gesture to the bar, the warm wooden walls, the Christmas lights I finally let Ash put up.
"It suits you." The intensity of his gaze makes my skin tingle. He inhales deeply, eyes darkening as if inhaling my scent, admiring it.
Heat floods my cheeks. An Alpha making such a move should feel invasive to me.
He takes another drink, throat working, and I definitely don't imagine how it would feel to run my tongue along his pulse point.
"Excellent beer."
I snort a laugh. "Flattery will get you everywhere."
"That a promise?"
Before I can formulate a response that isn't embarrassingly needy, he pulls out a small notebook. It's worn leather, pages crowded with notes.
"What are you doing?"
"Occupational hazard." He jots something down, and I lean over to peek. His handwriting is surprisingly elegant, describing flavor notes and possible brewing techniques. "Been keeping journals like this since I was eighteen."
"A good brewer learns from every pint," we say together.
His grin is devastating up close. This near, his scent overwhelms me and makes my Omega hindbrain whisper mate . I straighten quickly, heart pounding.
"Another?" I gesture to his nearly empty glass, proud my voice remains steady.
"Actually..." His eyes intensify with a challenge. "I've heard interesting things about your Midnight Pine. Word is it's the best porter in three counties."
My stomach drops. "Ah."
"Something wrong?"
"We might be temporarily out." I glance at the tap that was running low earlier. "Unless..."
"Unless?"
"There might be some in the basement. We keep extra supplies down there, but..." I bite my lip, remembering Ash mentioning a delivery.
"But?"
"But I'd have to check. Give me two secs." I round the bar and head over to his side of the bar as he's sitting right next to the door into the basement.
He stands, and suddenly, he's so close I can feel his body heat.
All I sense is that damned anticipation again. Like every cell in my body is pulling toward him. I reach for the door, wrestling to yank the stubborn thing open.
"That door sticks," I murmur.
He reaches past me, arm brushing mine, and the contact sends electricity shooting through my veins.
"Allow me."
The door opens easily under his strength. The stairs descend into warm darkness, and as I take the first step, his scent curls around me like a promise.
Or a warning.
The basement's warm darkness embraces me when I look back and notice he's joining me.
Warning bells should be ringing. An Alpha, alone in my basement? Instead, my body buzzes with wild abandonment.
Garrett's hand brushes the small of my back, steadying me on the narrow stairs, and that simple touch sends sparks through my entire body. The scent of aged wood and stored beer mingles with his increasingly intoxicating Alpha presence.
"Watch your step," he murmurs.
"Are you going to catch me again?" I tease. "Though I am fully capable of looking after myself."
"I know you are," he answers.
I flick on the dim lights, revealing rows of kegs and stored supplies. I busy myself checking keg labels, checking them all, trying to ignore how his presence fills the space.
"Most Alphas don't like that about me." I peek at him from behind a shelf. "The whole ‘not knowing my place' thing."
"Most Alphas are idiots." He moves closer, helping me shift some boxes. The muscles in his arms flex beneath his shirt, and my mouth goes dry. "My sisters would love you, you know. They're both fighters, too, always getting into trouble, standing their ground."
I pause, studying him in the dim light. The way his eyes shine when he mentions family, the gentle pride in his voice. There's something so careful about his strength, so controlled.
"So, you see me as a sister?" I aim for banter, but my voice comes out husky. "Interesting."
The change is instant. His scent darkens and fills with want. He moves closer, backing me against the shelf, and suddenly, the basement feels too small, too hot.
"Trust me, Ruby," his voice drops lower, sending shivers down my spine. "What I feel for you..." His hands cage me in, and my breath catches as he leans close. "What I want to do to you... it's nothing like what I feel for my sisters."
My heart pounds so hard, I'm sure he can hear it. "And what exactly do you feel?"
"Been keeping me up at night." His fingers trace my cheek, feather-light. "Thinking about your laugh. Your fire. The way you light up talking about brewing. How you taste..."
His closeness makes me feel drunk on desire and need. Every Omega instinct screams to submit, to let this Alpha claim me. That thought should terrify me. Instead, it has heat pooling low in my belly, drenching my underwear.
"I'm not going to rush you," he continues, thumb brushing my lower lip. "But I need you to know… I like you. More than I should. More than makes sense after just a few days."
"Garrett..." His name comes out like a prayer.
"Tell me to stop." His forehead rests against mine. "Tell me this isn't affecting you too."
I should. Everything I've built, everything I've fought for, screams at me to push him away. To run. To hide.
"Kiss me," I whisper. "Please, I'll die if you don't?—"
His mouth claims mine, and this kiss obliterates our first. It's heat and hunger and desperation. I soften into him as he presses me against the shelves, one hand tangling in my hair while the other grips my hip. A sound escapes me, something between a whimper and a purr that should embarrass me but only makes him growl.
"God, your scent," he groans against my lips. "It's driving me crazy."
"I feel so hot." My skin's on fire wherever he touches, my body moving against him. "Is this normal? To feel like I'm burning up?"
"Let me take care of you." His kisses trail down my neck, and I tilt my head instinctively, baring my throat. "Let me show you how good it can be."
I've never felt like this—like my body's not my own, like I'll combust if he stops touching me. My hands clutch his shoulders as he leaves open-mouthed kisses along my throat, each one sending sparks of electricity straight to between my thighs.
"You taste like heaven," he whispers against my skin. "Like everything I've ever craved."
His thigh slides between mine, and I gasp at the pressure. My hips rock without my permission, seeking more. Heat builds between us, desperate and wild.
"Garrett, I—" I can't finish the thought. Can't think at all with his hands roaming my sides, his scent filling my lungs.
He's kneeling in front of me suddenly, one hand pushing my skirt up to my stomach, the other hand curling around the elastic of my panties.
He glances up at me, and I hold my breath.
"Do you want this?"
I nod, unable to find my words, more sure of this than anything else in my life. In seconds, he tucks my dress into my belt and pushes my underwear down my legs. I step out of them, still unable to believe I'm doing this.
My inhales are coming too fast, and he's smirking, lowering his gaze to my offering, studying me unapologetically.
"So beautiful and shaved for me, too."
There was primal darkness in his voice.
My nipples tighten against my shirt as he gently nudges my thighs apart, leaning in, and his fingers pry me open, the others pinching my clit.
My breath catches in my throat, my body tensing up. I've played with men before, but it was never serious. Yet, I've never felt like I was about to self-combust before.
Then his mouth is pressing against me, pushing his tongue between my folds.
A moan bursts past my lips, and I lean against the shelves, gripping them like I might fall over. Two hungry fingers slip into me as his tongue flicks my clit. My hips rock to the rhythm of his fingers working in and out of me.
I squirm while he makes sexy slurpy sounds, lips clasping my pussy, fingers pushing into me. More moans roll over my throat.
Somehow, a slice of sanity still remains to remind me that I shouldn't draw attention from anyone upstairs, seeing I've left the door to the basement open.
Fuck!
It's the same moment his fingers curl inside me to a spot so specific, so electrifyingly perfect, I cry out as a shuddering climax tears through me. It comes so fast, I'm seeing stars while Garrett removes his fingers and licks my hole like he can't get enough of my juices. I'm soaking wet, trembling, all those endorphins rippling through me. I'm in damn love with the way he laps at me, taking quick jerks and devouring me.
He grunts, keeping me spread, not releasing me. The sound turns me on as flutter after flutter rolls across my pussy.
Squirming against me, I'm floating, holding onto the shelves, struggling for breath.
Coming down from my high, I can't stop smiling.
"That was incredible."
He breaks away and gets to his feet, towering over me, his mouth and chin glistening. His body is pressed up against me, his fat cock nestled against my stomach. Now that's all I can think about—him pushing inside, spreading me, making me cry out.
"You're so wet, so sweet, so fucking ready," he whispers, and it should scare me, but I'm still smiling, desperate for everything he offers. His eyes darken to forest green, wide with hunger, but there's something else crossing his expression.
Should I be concerned?
"My sweet Ruby," he whispers, voice rough, my heady scent all over his mouth. "Did you know you're starting to come into your heat?"
Ice floods my veins even as my body burns hotter. "What?"
"BOSS LADY!" Ash's voice suddenly booms from upstairs, making me jump. "Need a hand up here!"
"No." I push against Garrett's chest, panic rising. "You're wrong. That doesn't happen. I don't get heats. I haven't had one?—"
"It happens when you meet your scent match." His voice is gentle, but his eyes burn with possession. I know he's right, but I'm struggling to admit it to myself. "When you find your Alpha."
Terror and desire war in my chest. This can't be right. I'm not ready to succumb to an Alpha, to have them control me, everything I've fought for. My head's swimming with too much confusion to make sense of everything he's saying.
"I have to go." My voice shakes as I duck under his arm, lowering my dress, my legs like jelly. "Customers… I need to…"
"Ruby, wait!" He reaches for me, and the raw need in his voice almost breaks my resolve.
"No!" It comes out sharper than intended. "No, you're wrong. This isn't. I'm not…"
I flee up the stairs, leaving him in the darkness with the taste of him still on my lips, panic clawing at my throat, and drenched. That's when I realize I left my underwear behind, but I can't bring myself to go back. My body screams to return to him, to let him claim me, to submit to what every instinct says is right.
But it also terrifies me to lose control so easily.
Heat. Alpha. Mate.
The words echo in my head along with something else...
What if he's the one… the answer to my Marcus problem? Am I ready to take on a mate so quickly for the sake of the bar? I feel torn on the inside, hating the fear that comes over me when it comes to my feelings toward Marcus.