Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Sage
I sprint on my toes to the kitchen, pretending to wipe down the counters when Steve saunters in.
He drops the business card on the table and folds his arms across his chest. His icy stare prickles the back of my neck as he throws his dominance out into the room.
It makes me want to cower, to run and hide, but avoiding him will only be worse in the long run.
I’ve learned that lesson the hard way.
Turning toward him with my eyes on the floor, I keep my head bowed and clench the damp rag between my fists. Thankfully, it’s not wet enough to drip on the floor. I’m sure he’d take that as an excuse to get even more angry with me.
“Why are you sneaking around, omega?”
I shake my head the tiniest bit, afraid to voice a protest and knowing he doesn’t want me to answer.
“I expect you to behave as an omega should: Out of sight, minding your business.”
“Yes, alpha,” I say, internally cringing as I defer to my older brother in this way, but it’s a matter of survival.
I can see his frown and narrowed eyes from my periphery, but I stay resolutely focused on my own feet to avoid any further indiscretions.
“I expect dinner in an hour.”
I nod, and he grumbles under his breath as he stomps out of the kitchen, back to the office he shares with Josh. His too-sweet melon scent lingers, and I twitch my nose, trying to avoid sneezing.
My shoulders sag as some of the tension in my body loosens when he leaves. It never fully goes away, but moderately tense is better than very tense, at least.
I pad on silent feet to the doorway and peek out, ensuring he’s gone, then turn to eye the card on the table.
I’m not normally nosy, but for some reason I’m curious about who knocked on the door.
The card has a simple picture of a green tree and some sheers, with the name “Brooks Moreno Landscaping” in bold letters, a phone number and email beneath.
When I turn it over, a faint, barely noticeable scent of alpha reaches me. I can’t make out the notes, but it’s enticing in a way no other alpha’s scent has been. My omega perks up, wanting more, but I force myself to place the card back down where I found it, then set to making dinner.
As usual, I breathe a sigh of relief when I step outside a couple days later for my morning walk.
The sun is shining, and I tip my face to the sky, letting it bathe my skin in warmth.
My steps are quiet, even in shoes, as I quickly walk down the driveway and turn right, taking the sidewalk away from the house.
I’m only allowed to be out for twenty minutes. They rarely follow me anymore, since I haven’t been late getting back in months, but every so often they like to catch me before I get out of sight and tell me I don’t get to walk that day after all.
It crushes my spirit a little bit more every time.
Today though, I make it out of sight safely.
I slow down as soon as I can’t see the porch, then let the stress fall from my body with each step I take.
I love the sound of the birds in the morning, with their cheerful trills and chirps, and many of the gardens in our neighborhood are quite pretty this time of year.
My eyes drift open and closed lazily every few steps as I let my arms swing by my sides, reveling in a few stolen moments of contentment.
I’m not paying attention to where I’m going, having walked this path hundreds of times by now, but then I stumble.
My toe catches on nothing and my eyes fly open because that scent.
I freeze as my heart stalls for one count, two.
Suddenly, I’m twirling around as it pounds into overdrive in my chest. My hair flies in an arch around me, my nostrils flared to catch that addicting smell, while my omega surges inside me.
I slowly suck in a breath through my nose, taking it deep into my lungs and holding it there for as long as I can.
Earthy, woody, slightly sweet musk… The scent of patchouli. There are more notes, though, that I can’t quite figure out beneath the smell of fresh yard work. It’s something comforting, calming in a way I’ve never experienced before.
Is it my scent-match? I didn’t think that was real, but… I go entirely still when my eyes finally find him. The alpha who knocked on our door and left his business card.
Brooks.
The grass is freshly cut, and he’s stretched over a hedge with an electric trimmer in his hands, razing the top off a fluffy green bush.
Leaves and branches scatter around him, and he has a pair of bulky headphones covering his ears with a messy man-bun on the back of his head.
His golden-brown skin gleams in the sun, muscles flexing as he works.
I pause to drink him in, taking in his massive frame and bulging arms, while I vacillate between fear and hope, apprehension and curiosity.
My omega would be sprinting straight at him if she was able to, trying her best to get me to go over there and rub myself all over him.
But I can’t. I’m not his.
I belong to someone else.
The spark of hope in my chest dies and my shoulders hunch. I can feel myself drawing in, seeking comfort and safety in a world where I have none. My eyebrows twitch with betrayal and confusion, a final dose of sadness as I take one last look at the burly alpha before turning away.
My feet walk me back to the house on autopilot.
“You’re back early,” Josh comments when I walk in the door.
My eyes are on the floor as I nod, hoping he’ll let me pass without incident.
“What’s wrong with you, now?” he says, a suspicious twinge to his voice. “You normally look a bit more alive after your daily exercise.”
I try to slip past him without answering, but I should have known better. He snatches my arm and swings me into the wall, then grabs a fistful of my hair to force my head to the side, baring my neck to him.
He hasn’t bitten me, and I don’t think he ever will, but the threat is still terrifying. My breath hitches in my chest and I squeeze my eyes shut.
“Answer me, omega.” His voice carries the dominance of his alpha bark, forcing me to provide a response.
“Nothing is wrong, alpha. I just wanted to come home.”
The lies taste like bile, but I force them out anyway. I can feel his eyes roaming my body, inspecting me for who knows what, before he scoffs and shoves me away from him by the fist in my hair.
I stumble, but catch myself before I fall.
“Early lunch, then,” he calls out behind me, right as my foot touches the bottom stair.
I bow my head, then turn around to head for the kitchen.
Time has become an inconceivable construct. Sometimes it flies by, sometimes it drags on. Most often, it does the opposite of what I want it to. I’m starting to wish I could sleep my life away, but that isn’t an option.
They would never let me.
As I’m padding down the stairs a few days later, my mind is still stuck on that alpha. The one who smelled like patchouli and chamomile. I figured out the second part a couple days ago when I went to brew some sleepy time tea. The tea never manages to relax me, though.
Not like his scent did.
He’s been in my dreams, too. A face I can’t quite remember. A tall, strong frame, big and sturdy as a brick wall. Arms I could latch onto and he probably wouldn’t even notice.
I glance up as I near the bottom of the staircase, ready to step into the kitchen, when my eyes snag on a bulky form outside the window.
A familiar form.
My foot misses the last step and I trip with a clatter, catching myself on the banister. I quickly dart my gaze up and down the hall, hoping Steve and Josh didn’t hear me. Nothing happens for a few moments, and when I strain my ears, there’s low talking coming from their office.
I suck in a breath and straighten, then carefully turn my attention to the view outside the window again, fully expecting to see the normal, overgrown yard with no alpha standing in it.
My expectations are bowled over when it turns out I was not hallucinating, and Brooks is, in fact, standing a few feet outside the front window trimming the ragged hedges beside the driveway.
I blink in shock, then scramble to the kitchen to hide.
What is he doing here?
I mean, obviously Steve or Josh hired him to clean up the yard. But why? Do they know? How could they? Did they follow me the other day?
If they knew, what would they do?
I actually have no idea what the answer to that might be, and that alone slows my wild thoughts. Surely, if they knew he was my scent-match, they wouldn’t have hired him. They wouldn’t let me near him, or him near me.
That settles my nerves somewhat, and my hands only tremble a little as I go about my usual routine of making breakfast and a pot of fresh coffee.
I knock on their office door a short while later, a platter of steaming bacon and eggs in my hand. My mind has been half outside the whole time, but luckily I’m used to this routine after following it for years.
“Enter,” Josh calls, his voice arrogant.
Steve waves with impatience, indicating I should put down the meal and leave, so I gladly do so before either of them get a chance to harass me.
Then my omega perks up. If they’re busy, that means I have an opening. I bite my lip, trying to decide what to do as I walk back into the kitchen to finish cleaning up, and my eyes land on the fresh pot of coffee.
Does Brooks like coffee? I’m not allowed to have any, but it would be rude of me not to offer him some, right? A proper omega would offer a hired worker something to drink.
I nod, having decided that’s the correct course of action, and surely Steve and Josh can’t fault me for following my omega instincts of being a gracious host.
With that, I hurry over to the cupboard and carefully pick through the mugs, settling on the biggest one I can find. It’ll look the least ridiculous in his hands. Then I fill it as much as I dare, and creep over to the front door.
I open it slowly, not entirely confident in this decision despite my inner bravado, but the sight of the man outside takes the choice out of my hands. I’m pulled forward, my omega rolling in my chest, anxious to be closer to him.
And next thing I know, I’m reaching up with a shaking hand to tap lightly on his muscled shoulder.