Chapter 8 – Wilder
Chapter Eight
Wilder
Kicking off my shoes, I climb onto the treatment table. Treatment table, my ass. It’s a bed, and I hate every second Lacey has spent here with other alphas.
Grim is fine.
I’m the one who sent him to see her, after all. At least I know he’ll take care of her. There was also a small amount of hope that the two of them would click. He’s one of two people I trust implicitly, meaning he’s an ideal candidate for a packmate if they just so happened to mesh.
Grim is tight-lipped about what he and Lacey do during their appointments, but the man never smiles unless he’s talking about her. That tells me that my darling little stepsister won him over during the last two months.
I lean back against the pillows, quirking an eyebrow to ask, what now?
She raises a finger and spins around, grabbing her soda. She takes a long swig, and I can’t tell if she’s nervous or if she’s punishing me.
If it’s the second, it’s not like I can blame her. The night we met, I could tell how compatible we were. That didn’t mean I could do a damn thing about it, but I’m willing to let her torture me a little for the perceived slight.
Lacey places the bottle down on the coffee table and turns to face me, wiping her hands off on her pajama pants. It’s a cute set. It reminds me of something my mom would have worn around the house during winter.
Lacey somehow manages to pull off the simple set in a way that evokes completely different emotions.
She’s got her hair pulled up in a messy bun, and her lithe neck is about all the skin she’s showing.
That makes it hard to understand how my mouth is watering just by looking at her.
She edges closer, and her facial expression indicates she’s slightly afraid.
A lazy smile crosses my face. “I won’t bite unless you ask me to.”
She scoffs. “That won’t be a problem.”
The little omega comes to a stop next to the treatment table and exhales heavily. It almost seems like she’s trying to work up the nerve to be close to me.
It’s disappointing.
My instincts know she’s the one for me, and my system fully believes she should feel comfortable in my presence. It’s unrealistic, but instincts don’t make sense when alphas and omegas are involved.
She doesn’t leave me suffering for long.
Lacey climbs onto the edge of the mattress and tosses a leg over mine. My head tilts as she climbs directly onto me.
Huh.
If I had known she planned to lie on top of me, I would have stretched out fully instead of leaning against the pillows.
She wiggles around, plastering her face to my chest. “You know, this is why they tell us not to wear makeup. You’re going to have evidence of me on your shirt. I was in such a rush, I didn’t have time to wash my face before my first session.”
I quirk an eyebrow, but I doubt she sees it. “I’ll wear your makeup stains with pride. That’s a weird rule, though.”
“Not if you really think about it. Some clients don’t want their significant other to know they’re coming in for treatment.” She laughs. “Though, you’d think the guys who used to come into the strip club would pay more attention to that kind of thing. They didn’t, but you’d think they would.”
I know she spent a year dancing.
No, I do not like to think about it.
“Christmas is right around the corner,” I murmur, moving a hand to cradle her lower back. “Are you on the naughty or nice list this year?”
I cringe.
Jesus.
I’m smoother than this.
Lacey throws me off my game in a way no one ever has. Or perhaps it’s the three years I’ve taken off from flirting with anyone.
“I’m always nice,” Lacey says indignantly. “If anyone is likely to be on the naughty list, it’s you, buddy.”
“Fair enough,” I agree. “What are your plans for the holiday? It’s the first year our parental units have been unreachable for Christmas since they wed.”
Even the year they got married, they put off their honeymoon until mid-January just to avoid leaving Lacey alone for Christmas and her birthday.
“Ehh, my plans are mostly to snuggle up at home.” She runs her finger over the collar of my shirt. “It’ll be nice not having to be social or dress up, but I’m still undecided if I’ll decorate.”
“You really put it off to the last minute.” Memories of my mom flood back, and my chest gets tight.
“My mom let Thanksgiving have its day, but that night or Black Friday at the latest, she went ham, enlisting all of us to do her dirty work. It was her favorite holiday, and you could tell by how all-in she went on decorating.”
“It’s mine too,” Lacey says softly. “When I was little, we were seriously poor—like making our own decorations and snagging Christmas lights from the trash that someone didn’t want to bother untangling. That kind of broke, but my mom always made it special.”
I tilt my head down until I can see her face. I wasn’t aware of any of that. Although, I’m not sure how I would have known. My dads skated a fine line of telling me enough that I wasn’t stunned when they proposed to Dawn, but they didn’t offer up unnecessary details either.
I’ve always assumed they did that out of respect for my mother. I’m only just now realizing how little I know about Lacey’s life before our paths converged.
“I think all moms are good at not letting their kids know when they’re struggling.” No matter how sick my mom got, she never let on in front of me, and I was a teenager. I could have handled it, but she did her best to hide how much she was suffering.
Lacey pushes up on her knees and buries her nose in my throat. “I’m sorry about your mom.” Her hand slides under my arm and around my back, and she hugs me. “I can’t imagine how hard that must have been.”
“It was a long time ago, but I appreciate the sentiment.” My nose twitches, trying to determine what changed in her scent. The electric tinge is still there, but the subtle notes of white gardenia and pears become easier to pick out. “Are you soothing me with your pheromones?”
“I guess I am,” she whispers against my throat. “But you need as much of my pheromones as you can get, so don’t make it weird. Just shut up and breathe me in.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I chuckle despite the discomfort churning in my gut.
I didn’t fake my lab work, but I may have slightly pressured my doctor into giving me a referral for pheromone therapy. As it turns out, this place didn’t even require it to set up an appointment, but I wasn’t willing to take any chances.
I’m not above playing dirty to get what I want.
“How about you?” she asks, her warm breath puffing against my skin as she speaks. “What are your plans for Christmas?”
Outside of magically wooing her into wanting to move in with me before New Year’s Day, I didn’t have a single plan for the holiday season. Hearing that she isn’t even sure she’s going to decorate for the holiday gives me an idea.
I won’t bring it up now.
I need to let the plan fully come together.
The attic of the house I inherited from my dads is packed to the brim with Christmas cheer. Once my mom died, we never touched a single box. There’s a train set, Christmas village, lights, and so much more, all waiting for someone who will appreciate them.
Something inside me says Lacey will.
“I have a deal to broker before New Year’s Day, which I’m hoping to have wrapped up within the next few days.
I’d like to be able to take off some time right before Christmas and the week leading up to New Year’s.
” I run my hand up and down her spine. “I gave my housekeeper a week off starting on Christmas Eve, but my private chef made it clear he has no family, and he intends to cook for himself in my kitchen. By his grace, I won’t starve during the holidays. ”
Lacey snorts. “Oh yeah, because if it came down to cooking for yourself or going hungry, you’d just go without.”
“I have many skills. Cooking is not one of them.”
“Yeah, I really can’t make much outside of the basics either,” the little omega admits.
Well, if she’d like to learn, I know Collins would be open to giving her lessons, but once she’s officially mine, she’ll never have to lift a finger again.