Chapter 9 #2
There was no other choice but to take them home with me.
A cat with only three legs and another with litter box issues would likely be the last two to be adopted out.
Furs and Purrs is a rare organization that would have space and the resources to keep them happy, but I had been back in my old town, and the county shelter would not have been the place for them.
“It’s really sweet,” Maeve says wistfully. “Hopefully, one day, I’ll be able to get a cat of my own.”
“Why not take Bean?” Ivan asks. “He adores you.”
“I…”
And for the first time tonight, Maeve appears uncomfortable. My instinct is to reach over and take her hand, but I keep it at my side. “I’m a little worried about…the worries.”
“Worried about the worries?” I repeat.
She heaves a deep sigh. “I just don’t want to start panicking about every little thing if I take Bean home. I would love him to pieces, but I’m worried that I would freak out if I thought he even blinked wrong.” She looks down at her lap. “It’s pathetic,” she murmurs.
“No, it’s not,” I say quickly. “You’re protective.”
“You are absolutely not,” Ivan adds.
She can’t think about herself that way. I won’t allow it.
Maeve is the exact opposite of pathetic. She’s brave, funny, clever, and lovely.
But her smile is thin when she looks at me. “Maybe one day I’ll get a cat,” she says softly. “But by then, Bean will be adopted.”
Stella and Trooper would take a while to get used to Bean, but I imagine different ways to take the kitten home with me.
I have enough spare bedrooms to give Bean his own room.
I could adopt Bean, and then she would have to visit me…
“There are other fish in the sea,” Maeve adds. “Well, other cats, I guess.”
Ivan reaches over and takes her hand, doing what I can’t. I watch him lace their fingers together on the table and try to ignore the cold stab of jealousy that takes over.
Mine.
“When the time is right, you’ll know, babe,” Ivan says. “You’ll be a great cat mom.”
The shadow that crossed her features disappears, and she’s back to her bright, beautiful self.
“Speaking of cats,” I add, forcing the words out. “I have to head out. Thank you for the company.”
I don’t want to go. I want to stay here, rooted to my seat, and breathe in more of Maeve’s scent.
Even if I have to watch her hold Ivan’s hand all night, it would be worth it.
This is the most alive I’ve felt in months.
Then, Maeve does something devastating.
She pouts.
It’s absurd. My stomach drops at her displeased expression, and my Alpha howls in agony.
She’s not my Omega.
She’s not my girlfriend.
Is she even my friend, yet?
Besides, how old is she?
She has to be in her mid twenties at the most. Like hell she wants some forty-year old packless Alpha lusting after her.
“Damn, already?” Ivan asks. “Come on, what could you possibly have to do? Finish your pigeon article?”
“Rock doves,” I correct him. “And yes, along with feeding the cats.”
“Oh!” Maeve says. “Don’t keep Stella and Trooper waiting.”
There’s a warm sensation in my chest at her remembering my cats’ names.
It makes it even more difficult to leave her, but I force myself out of the booth and glance at her and Ivan one last time.
“See you later,” I say, and Maeve waves at me while Ivan murmurs a goodbye.
As I walk away, I hear Maeve let out a delighted laugh and try not to be bitter about it.
You’re not dating.
She’s not your Omega.
My Alpha instincts have been dormant for so long that I started to believe they didn’t exist anymore.
But ever since I caught that sweet chamomile scent, I’ve been fighting primal, savage urges.
I’m at my car, hoping the ache in my cock will disappear, when I catch another deep whiff of her, along with the sound of frantic footsteps.
Now my brain is fucking with me, making me imagine things—
“Logan? Wait!”
Maeve stands in front of me, panting in the cold night air.
“What’s wrong?” I ask her. “Are you okay? Where’s Ivan?”
At that, she chuckles. “Back inside.”
“Did you run out here?” I ask, dumbfounded.
“Yeah, I…” She chews the inside of her cheek, and I watch her, confused. My hand stays frozen on my car door, unable to move under her gaze.
“Are you alright?”
“Yes! Yes.” It’s only then that I notice the dilation of her pupils and the flushing of her face.
She’s aroused.
I had scented her slick before, at the table—but when the night air hits my nostrils, her aroma is even more concentrated.
I don’t know what to do. She was on a date with Ivan, not me, so why is she looking like that?
“Is everything—”
But I stop when she steps into my space and wraps her arms around me, burying her face in my chest. Her hands rest at my back, and my mouth falls open in shock.
She’s hugging me.
She’s touching me.
“Is this okay?” she murmurs against my chest. I rest my head on top of her chin, breathing her in.
I can’t answer her.
I haven’t been touched in so long, aside from a mere handshake or an accidental grazing of fingers when I hand something over.
I’m frozen, one hand still awkwardly on my car door while Maeve presses herself into me, sighing contentedly.
“It’s fine,” I choke out, my voice like gravel. “This is good.”
The hug is far too long to just be friendly or polite. Her body is warm, her touch delicate, and her scent grounding.
Just like my favorite tea.
Finally, finally I’m able to move my arms to wrap them around her waist, holding her closer to me.
I don’t know what the hug is for, only that I’m grateful to be on the receiving end of Maeve’s embrace.
When she finally pulls away, she looks up at me, her eyes glassy. “Thanks for joining us tonight,” she says softly. “I’m glad I got to know you better.”
I breathe her in, my heart pounding in my chest.
She’s in my arms.
This beautiful Omega is in my arms.
“Thanks for having me,” I reply.
I want to tell her it was the best night I’ve had in years, but I’m not sure how she would receive that information.
Probably with that dazzling smile she’s been throwing around all night.
“Let’s hang out more, okay?” she says in a hopeful, sweet tone.
I nod, dazed. “Okay.” My tongue is heavy; I can barely find words.
I’ll agree to anything she wants.
My mind flashes to the empty packhouse I’ll go home to.
I can picture her in the main bedroom with me, a dresser filled with nesting blankets and a closet full of items just for her.
I could help her build her nest. I could adopt Bean, and we could all live there together—
She caresses my cheek, her touch feather light, and I close my eyes and lean into it.
A purr rumbles from my chest, deep and rough, a sound I haven’t made in ages.
I didn’t know I was capable of it anymore, but here I am, putty in her hands.
When I open my eyes again, my mind fuzzy, Maeve is watching me with a tender look. She runs her thumb down my cheekbone and sighs softly.
I grip her waist tighter, my purr increasing.
I’m drunk off her touch; off the tiniest bit of attention and affection she gives me.
I’m yours, I want to tell her.
“Goodnight, Logan,” she says, pressing her lips to my cheek. Then, as quickly as she showed up, she steps out of my arms and heads back into the restaurant, leaving me stunned.
My face burns where she kissed it.
It’s only been a week, but Maeve has turned my world upside down.
This Omega has taught me how to want again, to long for something more than what I have.
She’s daring me to hope.