Chapter 22 #2
The hostess at the podium is beautiful. Her red hair is up in a bun, her black dress covering her curves.
“Yes, sir. Would you like me to find Corbin or Ambrose first, or would you like to be seated?” she asks.
“Seated first is fine. They can find me when they have a chance,” he says. “My omega is hungry, and I want to make sure we order soon.”
“I totally understand,” she says with a nod. She could be rude about it, but instead she gives me a sympathetic smile. “It doesn’t help when everything smells amazing.”
“That’s true,” I agree. “My stomach started growling outside.”
She grins as she leads us into the restaurant. There are people who are very dressed up, while others are in jeans and flannel shirts. I can pick up the dangerous vibes that some of the mafia men are giving off, and notice the cool glances I am receiving from their omegas.
I know that not all omegas are welcoming, and I’ve met my fair share of those who are catty as hell. They’re very jealous, protective of what they consider to be theirs, and never consider that the person in front of them may not even want any of it.
I predominantly avoid those types of people, because it makes me really uncomfortable to be around them. It feels like trying to breathe in knives.
I’m not a fan at all.
Lars pulls out my seat to allow me to sit down, and even helps me scoot back in. I slip out of my coat and put away my mittens in the pocket as I get comfortable, watching as he moves around the table. Once he’s seated as well, the hostess smiles at us and hands us menus.
“Mr. Finnegan called ahead with your gluten allergy. Anything on the menu can be prepared gluten free, just let your server know,” she explains. “Enjoy.”
Feeling excited, I open the menu to find that it’s predominantly Italian food. Chewing my bottom lip in concentration, I try to ignore the hunger pains to decide on what I want. It was about a forty minute drive here, and I was getting ready to make dinner when Lars surprised me.
My stomach currently hates me.
“This chicken piccata gnocchi is kind of calling my name,” I murmur.
“Then you should get it,” Lars says, his thumb running over my hand. He’s barely touching me, but I cross my legs as I struggle not to squirm. It’s like I’m touch starved.
I went from not seeing anyone, to having at least one alpha in my bed at all times. I love always having someone holding me, playing with my hair, kissing me.
“Nova,” Lars growls, waiting until I look up at him. “I’m trying really fucking hard, baby. All I can smell is you, and I can see how much I affect you. Control is not my friend today, not when you look so fucking pretty. Fucking you in Corbin’s office isn’t my idea of romantic.”
“Is that on the table though?” I ask, trying to hide my smile and failing.
Taking a deep breath, he groans at my words. Yet, his thumb running over my hand continues to remain gentle.
“It could be,” he grunts.
A tall man in a suit and his hair back in a man bun that suits him perfectly arrives at our table, and his lips twitch under his facial hair.
“I heard we have a hungry omega and a growling alpha,” he teases. “I didn’t think you’d come out this far, Lars. The fact that you’re on a date is even more surprising.”
Lars puts his menu down instead of sacrificing his hold on my hand to shake the alpha’s hand with a nod.
“Ambrose, this is Nova,” he says.
“The little lost omega who no longer is,” Ambrose breathes. Looking behind him, he scouts the restaurant. “Should be fine tonight too. She doesn’t really look like Hollis to me.”
I glance up at him as Lars releases his hand and Ambrose’ deep, dark eyes gaze back.
“I take that back,” he mutters. “Fuck me.”
“You know Hollis?” I ask, waiting for the shock to wear off.
“Your sister is superwoman,” he says. “I met one of my omegas through her dating service. Hollis had my pack fill out this intense form with everything about ourselves. We met him on our first date, and it just so happened that he was our scent match. He was perfect for us, fit in our pack well, and never blinked at the fact that we were enforcers.”
“He sounds really special,” I say, smiling. “I love hearing growly alphas get sappy when they talk about their omegas.”
Ambrose snorts. “Most people are scared shitless by me.”
“They’re not me,” I shrug. “I grew up around Roberto Domino and his men. Maybe it’s silly, but mafia families are my favorite ones to work with.”
“I heard about Domino from Shaw,” Ambrose growls. “He’s my alpha. I’m sorry that piece of shit was allowed anywhere near you.”
“Thank you,” I say.
“Now, I really need to get your order in. I told the server that I’d handle your table for her. What would you like?”
Lars and I place our order, and Ambrose says he’ll make sure that my food reflects my food allergy.
“Corbin and I wanted to make sure that we could feed anyone who has allergies, so we put the entire staff through a course to understand what they entail,” he explains.
“Everyone is on the same page, and I have a chef that knows how to cook gluten free pasta and gnocchi. Do you want an appetizer while you wait?”
“That’s probably a good idea,” I agree. “I’m starving. What do you recommend?”
“Our antipasto is really good, as is our arancini,” he says. “We have a dedicated gluten free fryer and gluten free bread. You’d be amazed at how many people come in with gluten free needs.”
“God, this is like the best date ever already,” I smile. “I haven’t always been gluten free, but I really miss bread.”
“I’ll make it happen,” Ambrose promises, taking the menus. “For what it’s worth, I’m always very happy when we get our missing people back. It means that evil didn’t win.”
He walks away quickly, and Lars taps on my hand.
“I don’t think he’s ever said that many words to someone he didn’t know very well,” Lars says. “Look at you befriending grumpy mafia men.”
“I think I remind him of someone,” I say, turning to him.
“Pack Mohan has two omegas,” he explains. “Wren is their other omega.”
“I swear I know this,” I say, shaking my head. “She runs Omega’s Haven with Aisling, right?”
“She does.”
“I’m playing with a really crazy idea, and I don’t know if it makes much sense or not,” I say. “Hollis gave it to me. I told her I didn’t know if I could make it happen, but now…”
“Aisling and Wren were babies when they founded Omega’s Haven,” Lars muses.
“Aisling worked for me for a few years at the coffee shop when she was a kid. Life wasn’t kind to her in the least. I worried every day that she was going to become a statistic.
She and Wren weren’t even legal adults when they decided to help other omegas because of the life they had.
There’s a lot of support in this community for growing nonprofits. ”
“Yeah?” I ask. “Everyone’s home life is so different, and sometimes a home birth isn’t the right choice for some because they don’t have a quiet space. They either live with other people, in a shelter, or an unsafe environment. Hollis suggested that I open a nonprofit birth center with staff.”
“Oh.”
The word isn’t said in a rude way, it’s more like he’s rolling the idea around in his mind. He is a business owner, and it sounds like the coffee shop does well if he’s been open as long as he has been.
“I think that would be amazing,” Lars says, nodding. “If you have staff, it means that you could see more people, right? Would you be giving up anything by doing this?”
I swear, I might have little hearts in my eyes as he says this. I haven’t dated at all before this, and the thought of coming home and being able to gush about my day hasn’t been something I could do in the past either.
“If this is set up correctly, and I have enough midwives and assistants, then I shouldn’t need to give up anything,” I say slowly, thinking.
“I can still see clients in home for maternity appointments and births, transfer to the hospital if something happens that potentially needs more care, and I’ll be able to add on the ability to see clients at the birth center.
I even think that we could reach even further and offer postpartum care.
It would look a little different for those in transitional housing, but it would allow us to offer them support in those first weeks. ”
“Have I told you that you’re amazing?” Lars asks.
“Honestly, I’m standoffish because your job overwhelms me.
There’s so much I don’t understand. You’ll say something off hand about how happy you are to deliver a live baby earthside, and it immediately makes me wonder how many you’ve had to deliver that haven’t been. Sorry, that’s morbid for dinner talk.”
“I don’t think I have that button inside of me that tells me what is or isn’t appropriate to talk about when it comes to midwifery,” I admit.
“To me, it’s simply part of life. I remember every baby I’ve delivered.
There have been two hundred and sixty-four babies.
However, there’s forty more that didn’t make it to that point, and countless babies that didn’t have a heartbeat at all when I searched for one at the first appointment.
There’s various reasons for this, but it’s no less sad. ”
“It’s a really emotional job,” he says softly, not addressing the fact that I haven’t answered his question.
Ambrose comes over with an appetizer, and my lips part in surprise as I watch him put out bread, as well as a platter of different cheeses, meats, and vegetables.
“Wow,” I rasp.
“All of the bread is gluten free. Lars can suck it up, and it’s actually delicious.
The roasted red peppers are made in house, the mozzarella balls are also made here too.
I don’t know why an Irish boy like me decided to open an Italian restaurant with Corbin, but there it is,” he chuckles.
“I’ll bring over water. Do you need anything else? ”
“No thank you,” Lars says. “I’m not drinking tonight.”
I rarely drink either, so I shake my head with a smile.
Ambrose leaves us, and Lars is silent as he begins to load up my plate with food.
Sighing, I say, “Seven born still. It’s not a high number, but it’s enough to make sure that I do everything possible for mom and baby.”
“It’s also not your fault,” he says. “It still hurts though because you’ve watched each pregnancy, celebrated each milestone. My concern when you told me about the sadder side of things is that you feel that grief as well.”
“I do,” I agree. “It makes the wins so much sweeter though.”
Dinner is fun, and still full of sexual tension. I swear, watching Lars lick his lips turns me on. It becomes a teasing war as I watch him. I wrap my lips around the fork with each bite, waiting to see when he’ll break.
“Are you done?” he asks, his voice full of gravel.
“I’m full,” I murmur. “It was so good.”
Lars stands and tosses his credit card on the table before grabbing my hand.
“Come with me,” he says, helping me out of my seat. “I’m not going to make it home without enjoying your body now that you’re no longer hungry.”
“Here?” I squeak, following him around the tables and through the room.
An alpha in a suit looks imposing as he watches Lars.
“I need your office and no questions, sir,” Lars says. He sounds more feral than in control, and I shiver.
“Sounds like you’re in trouble,” the alpha chuckles at me. Handing him the key, he points down the hall behind me. “It’s always nice to see you, Lars, but you know your money is worthless here.”
“Donate it.” Lars shrugs as he continues past the alpha. “I hope you’re ready for your punishment, beautiful. I’ll have you screaming for my cock before I give it to you.”
Holy mother of the universe…I think I’ve finally gotten Lars to slip his leash.