Chapter Twelve
Charlotte
Charlotte has never been dress shopping before. As in shopping specifically for a dress to wear out on a date that her alphas were now taking her on.
Not her alphas, she scolds herself again.
When she went shopping, usually it was to buy practical clothes for work, or just browsing the thrift store to try to find any gems that might be there when she had a few extra dollars.
She wasn't used to going to an upscale boutique, on a lovely tree-lined street downtown near the financial district, with racks of clothes that had three and four figure price tags.
The sight of those numbers made her clam up at just at the thought of being in the same space as such extravagance.
Let alone touching it. Let alone buying it. Let alone wearing it.
But they had been insistent that she needed a dress for "date night" tonight, and they had been equally insistent that she pick it this time.
The boutique was like nowhere else she had ever been before.
A world apart from the church-run thrift store she frequented that was crowded with overstuffed racks, mismatched hangers, and a musty smell.
Here, the lighting was golden and soft, the air perfumed with something delicate and floral but not offensive to her nose.
Wait... were those vases on the low tables next to the cashmere shrugs actually filled with real roses?
Silas stands beside her, a warm and reassuring presence as she gingerly picks through the dresses spread out on a gold rack in front of her like they might jump off the satin hanger and bite her. She's terrified she's going to snag one or otherwise ruin it just with her presence.
"That one would look pretty on you, Charlotte," he murmurs approvingly as she looks over to the next rack of dresses that had been offered to them.
It's a beauty of blue organza with long floaty sleeves and hundreds of crystals embroidered on it that are concentrated on the bust and gradually become sparser at the bottom, making it look almost like an ombre effect.
It was pretty. She looks at the price tag.
$1,420. Nope. She immediately shoves it back.
Another beta sales assistant checks in on them with a genuine smile. She's beautiful, perfectly smooth blonde hair falling in perfect waves around her chest. She's wearing an understated dress the accents her figure and Charlotte can’t help hovering close to Silas, nerves buzzing under her skin.
"Can I assist you in finding anything? Are you looking for something in particular?"
"Our omega is looking for a dress," Silas says. "No particular special occasion, we just want to get her something pretty."
The way he says our omega makes Charlotte's brain nearly short circuit.
Soft, floaty happiness fills her before reality drags her back to the ground like lead weights around her ankles.
She wasn't their omega. She wasn't. He was just saying that not to embarrass her, because he was such a good man.
She was his sugar baby. Not really his omega. Never his true omega.
They don't even look at the beautiful beta girl as she shows them around the softly glittering showroom and offers them a few other options. Charlotte doesn't understand how Silas, Tomas, and Alex are so engrossed on her, as if they don't even notice the other women in the boutique looking at them.
When Alex had parked his black SUV on the street and they had gotten out, insisting on opening the door for her and helping her out of the car, heads had literally turned. And she could understand why. The three of them were stunning. GQ model level stunning.
They were dressed more casually than they usually were in the office. Tomas was the only one wearing a jacket, a warm cookie coloured linen suit with matching pants and a white dress shirt. He looked like some sort of sun god with his light hair and piercing eyes.
Silas was wearing salmon pink houndstooth print pants with a plain white button-down on top. Charlotte has no idea how he could pull such a bold look off, but he somehow looks even more masculine in them, and the way they hug his firm rear is almost enough to make her salivate.
And Alex's bulk is stuffed into a fitted knit sweater the colour of shallow ocean waters and a pair of darker blue slacks.
She can watch the way his muscles ripple under the shirt and Charlotte finds herself unable to look away from the sight.
But that was normal. That's expected. They were beautiful, perfect men.
It's the fact that they can't look away from her that makes no sense. She was just plain old Charlotte with frizzy hair that could never behave and no scent. How did they not notice all the other women admiring them seemingly wherever they went?
And yet somehow, when it was her looking at them, they always caught her.
As if they could sense it whenever her eyes were on one of them, and then she was left blushing and looking away and hoping they couldn't also sense how much she wanted them.
Praying she wouldn't embarrass herself or make them uncomfortable.
It felt like magic that they wanted her.
They could have anyone. Any of these women would clearly be happy to go home with them, even without the cheques.
And they would likely be so much better at the no attachment part.
They would probably respect the boundaries these men had asked for in a way Charlotte apparently could not.
Poor, sad, broken Charlotte who latches on to the first men to show her any kindness...
Her head spins.
"What about this one, Charlotte?" Alex's voice pulls her out of her thought spiral.
The dress he's holding out is perfect.
It's a cornflower blue floor length dress made from soft, shiny silk.
It has a high V-neck and it's sleeveless, but it's the slit up the side that would reach mid-thigh that catches her eye.
She can already feel her alpha's hands on her leg, their warm skin touching the sensitive flesh there.
.. she blushes a deep red and she knows they can immediately see what she's thinking.
"Yes," Tomas says, answering for her, his voice unbroachable.
The beta woman quickly grabs two sizes of the dress and whisks them off to the fitting room in the back.
The first one she tries on fits perfectly. When she walks out of the fitting room, their eyes turn dark and hungry like they do when she's splayed out naked in their bed.
They're silent for a minute, then Silas speaks, his voice hoarse. "Charlotte will need a jacket too. It will be chilly tonight."
Which is how she ends up with a matching cornflower blue cashmere coat that falls to her mid-calf. The fabric ripples around her like water and the softness rubs against her bare arms like a cloud.
∞∞∞
As they walk back to the car, another storefront catches Alex's eye. It's very industrial looking, a glowing sign above it states, "SOMALIER LABS" in big block letters.
"Oh, I read about this in the Times," he tells them. "They formulate individual shower and bath products based on a person's natural scent. They take a cheek swab sample and synthesize the scent on the premises."
Silas' eyes light up at that. "What do you think, Charlotte?" He looks down at his watch, a big shiny silver and black diver's piece with multiple timers and stops on it. "We still have time before our dinner reservation."
"But I don't have a scent." Reminding them of this flaw makes Charlotte pull at the belt tie of her new coat nervously, fiddling with the ends where Silas had tied it for her before they left the fancy dress boutique.
"You can wear our scents," Tomas says, but the way he says it sounds more like an order than a suggestion.
She could wear their scents... her mind shudders to a stop at the thought. To wear an alpha's scent was a claim. It would mean she was theirs. Everyone around her would know it.
"Yes!" The word leaves her lips before the thought has even finished formulating.
Watching her alphas swab their own cheeks for the lab attendants makes her belly kindle with warmth.
They wanted her to wear their scents. They wanted to claim her.
Even if it was just as their sugar baby, even if it was only for the length of the contract, the thought of it is enough that she can feel her slick gathering in her thin panties and for once she's relieved that she hasn't perfumed and has no scent to broadcast.
But her alphas are so attuned to her, she knows they know. When Alex comes to stand behind her, on the pretence of leading her to the window where they can watch the technicians in the lab formulating their custom products, he presses his erection into the small of her back.
Her cheeks flame but thankfully, for once, he doesn't say anything filthy to make her even more flustered.
They bring the products out in fancy-looking beige packaging with her name embossed on the side of it in gold lettering.
They got her a shower gel in Silas' warm whiskey scent, a moisturizer that smelled like Alex's smoky tobacco, and a perfume with Tomas' sensual sandalwood and vetiver that wove through all three of them and made her head swim.
She thanks them but the words feel so paltry and juvenile.
Nothing seems like it could ever be enough to repay them.
Nothing could ever truly capture how desperately afraid she is of losing them.
They wave it off, Silas pressing a kiss to the top of her head that makes her even more flustered.
His lips are so warm and soft against her skin, and it sends a jolt straight to her core.
The drive to the restaurant is comfortably silent.
Silas is sitting next to her in the backseat of the SUV gently playing with her fingers where he's rested her hand on his firm thigh.
Alex easily weaves them through the windy one-way streets of the old downtown area until he pulls out front a trendy restaurant on the water.