27. Alessandro
Chapter twenty-seven
Alessandro
Mrs Warkow keeps staring and smirking, like she knows a secret about me. Waiting for me to cave. But while she’s apparently fantasizing about me, I can’t stop thinking about Willow, and the alpha at her house.
Clearly, he was staying over, and he was covered in her scent—even freshly washed. Which means he helped the omega with her heat. I walk back and forth across the Warkow yard with my mower, keeping the lines even and beautiful around the shrubbery and palms. But my thoughts are in disarray,
I didn’t see any signs of an alpha living inside her house the first day I visited, so who was he? A friend, flying in to help? No, he didn’t seem fully at ease like he belonged on the property. And there was a truck parked in the driveway.
A service?
Maybe that’s the only relationship an intensely private omega could agree to.
The idea halts me in my tracks. I set the machine to idle and pull my water bottle from the cradle tied to the handle.
Sweat mixes with grass dust to ooze down my back, trapped there by the shirt I now refuse to remove while working around this property.
It’s no longer a safe space.
I sneak a glance toward the big house. Miranda sits in a deck chair by the pool, sipping something icy with her breezy wrap flung wide to show off her high cut bikini.
I’m all for women being powerful in their bodies at any age, but knowing it’s a deliberate move makes me queasy.
Despite the wide acre of manicured lawns and gardens, the walls feel like they’re closing in.
I need to find another place to live, somewhere I’m not under her eyes. Or orders.
When I continue mowing, the two watchdogs trot past, doing a lap of the boundary fence and drawing my eye toward the back of the property. It’s been three days since I visited, which means Willow should be about done with her heat, unless it’s a super long one.
I know it’s a pipe dream, but if she’d asked me to help her, I would've agreed in a flash. As if answering my thoughts, my phone vibrates in my pocket, and I check if I’m out of sight of the boss’s wife. Safely hidden behind an oasis of greenery, I read the message.
My heart leaps as I spot Willow’s name.
Hi. I heard you dropped by the other day. Sorry I wasn’t available. Happy for you to come and do the fence anytime this week.
I shouldn’t be so thrilled about the neutral permission, but my smile widens at the thought of seeing her again. I check my watch and tell her I’ll be there in ninety minutes. That gives me enough time to finish here and wash up.
My feet practically skip across the lawn as I complete the mowing. As I head back to my shed to put the machinery away, Mr Warkow walks toward me, holding something. Nausea twists my stomach as I catch sight of the drill in his hand.
“Hi, Alessandro.” He holds up the drill. “I found this in the guest house. Is it yours?”
“Yes, sir. I helped Mrs Warkow hang a curtain in there a few days back.”
He passes me the drill. “Oh, really? She didn’t mention it.” He glances toward the pool where his wife lounges in full view and then glances back at me. “Everything going okay with the work?”
“Absolutely. I’ve just finished your lawns. I’ll blow the paths and then head to my next job.”
Miranda calls loudly from the pool edge. “Alex, there’s leaves in the pool.”
Before I can answer, her husband spins on his heel. “He’s got to leave for his next job, honey.”
The irritation in his voice sets me on edge. “I have a few minutes, if you want me to do it now.”
He shakes his head. “Actually, I’ll take care of it. Where’s the net?”
I give him directions and then slip back to the shed.
As much as I don’t want to go near Miranda, I can’t skip the shower today, not when dusty grit coats my entire body.
But I keep my eyes down and walk fast to the outdoor shower.
It’s partially closed off with a frosted wall and some potted palms, but the barrier doesn’t stop my skin crawling.
I also leave my underwear on as I scrub myself.
Stepping out with a towel wrapped around my waist, I discover Miranda leaning on the wall. She skims my damp body before meeting my eyes.
“Don’t avoid me, darling. I don’t like it.” She pouts, forming fresh wrinkles around her mouth. “And it will only spark my desire more.”
Her finger moves toward my bare chest.
“Ma’am, I have to go,” I say, skirting around her and striding away. It’s bad enough she’s hitting on me, but if her husband thinks I’m doing something behind his back, well, that would be the worst.
I close myself inside my hot shed, the mist on my body drying fast. It’s not much here, with a bed, sink, folding table, and my tools, but this is home. And it’s a base that allows me to operate in this area efficiently.
Now, none of the convenience is worth the trouble that’s brewing.
I pack the fencing gear into my trailer and then drive around the block to Willow’s house. The excitement fluttering in my belly stalls as I catch sight of the old truck still parked in the driveway. Is that alpha, Jeremy, still here?
The gate slides open automatically and I drive in, parking up behind the truck. As I pull the ladder out of the trailer, the front door opens. Willow waits on the threshold, not stepping out into the sunshine. I guess that’s how she maintains her perfectly clear, pale skin.
Setting the ladder down on the lawn, I pull out a section of the decorative paneling and climb the steps. “Good afternoon.”
Willow smiles at me. “Hi.”
She’s as beautiful as ever, but far more relaxed than the last time I saw her.
And her scent’s muted, soft and feminine without any of its previous desperation.
I want to lean in and fill myself with that delicate Jasmine scent, and maybe check for alpha overlays, but that would be a serious breach of etiquette.
So I don’t stand there gawking at her, I lift the piece of white panel. “This is the capping. Do you like it?”
“Yeah, looks cool. Is it strong enough if Mr Shares pushes on it?”
I swing the piece so I can grasp it in both hands and flex, showing the rigidity.
“Should hold the troublemaker,” I tell her with a grin.
She groans. “Gosh, you have no idea how much trouble he’s in.”
I lower the panel and step closer before leaning it against my hip. “Everything okay?”
She shakes her head. “Um, it’ll be okay. I didn’t let him out because I wasn’t sure if he’d be in your way.”
“We’ll be fine,” I assure her. “He’s good company.”
“Okay.” She leans in and touches the wall panel, making the gate behind me glide shut. “But please be careful. He’s already bowled someone over.”
I swing around, piecing together the truck in the yard. “Jeremy?”
“Oh, yeah. You met him, didn’t you?” She scrubs a hand through her hair. “Mr Shares knocked us both over and he ended up in hospital.”
The way her fingers clench drives me another step closer. “Did you get hurt? Is he okay?”
“He’s injured but recovering.” She throws me a shaky smile. “Anyway, I’ll stop holding you up. How long do you think the fencing will take?”
My smile falters. “It’s a lot of yards, and I have a couple of jobs to take care of tomorrow. Three days?”
“All right. And have you invoiced me for the panels? Those must be expensive.”
It’s nice she thought about that. “If you don’t mind two separate invoices?”
She shakes her head. “Whatever works best for you. I’ll go let Mr Shares out.”
I step back and she closes the door, the click of the latch sounding like a death knoll. Well, it’s my own stupid fault for imagining things that don’t exist. She has Jeremy for those sorts of needs.
But what about the other needs, the ones that made her flinch away from a loud noise and cower under a bench?
I haul my gear around the back of the house and Mr Shares comes to greet me, leaping and barking. We spend a few minutes playing, me running with him across the lawn. He does bog laps, springing like a gazelle in excitement. His joy distracts me from my own unease.
The work isn’t difficult. I measure out the drill holes and bolt the brackets into the top of the brick fence. Then the decorative panels slot into each section, lifting the fence height by another foot.
Mr Shares abandons me in favor of the shade in the patio and an hour later, the back door slides open.
“Come and get a drink,” Willow calls.
I shimmy down the ladder like a squirrel and jog over. She has fresh lemonade and tall glasses full of ice waiting on the slatted table.
“Thanks so much!”
She scans the sky through the window and then settles in a chair. “No problem. Looks like thirsty work.”
“The Texas sun sure is warm,” I agree.
She smiles thinly. “Where are you from?”
“Italy. A little town a hop and skip from the Amalfi Coast, to be more precise.”
“Oh, that sounds beautiful. Do you miss the beach, then?”
“Yeah.” I chuckle. “It’s a bit of a drive from here. You ever been?”
“Not recently. I . . . don’t like going . . . swimming.”
Feels like it’s something other than the water she doesn’t like. I pull another chair out and subtly move it closer to her. “Mind if I sit?”
“Oh, go right ahead. Sorry I didn’t offer.”
Her floral scent floats around me. Hints of the alpha’s basil notes linger on her, but it’s not fresh enough to be from the last two days. She just hasn’t used a scent scrubbing product.
I sip on my lemonade, fighting a smile while studying her. “What things do you like? Besides dogs.”
She chuckles and leans down to ruffle her pet’s ears. “Not all dogs. Just this champ. We’ve been through a lot together, haven’t we, baby?”
Mr Shares huffs up at her, and rests one paw on her leg. Even in this heat, she’s wearing a pantsuit. So much mystery. I want to peel all her walls down and see what lies at her core.
She glances up and our eyes meet. Beautiful, sky-blue eyes, sparkling with love. “Feels like an oddly difficult question.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean it to be.”
Willow shakes her head. “I like helping people. Omegas especially, so they don’t have to be so reliant on their packs.”
She eyes me, searching for traces of disapproval.
I understand why, but I’m not that kind of man. “A worthy endeavor,” I say, reaching for my drink and clasping the glass to let it cool my hands. “We’d see a whole lot less abuse if omegas were taught more life skills.”
The omega’s quiet a while. “I wish more alphas thought like you.”
I frown, trying to read between the lines. “You get alphas who are upset with your beliefs?”
Willow stares out across the lawn. “Yeah. They say I should leave well enough alone and not force omegas to be masculine.”
I growl softly and she twitches to look at me.
“Sorry.” I press one hand to my throat. “It’s not “manly” simply to defend yourself or be independent.”
She sighs happily and I lose sense of where I am.
“Right? Most omegas present in early teens, at such a vulnerable time in our lives. In the morass of hormones, we think anyone showing us a spot of kindness are heroes. Sometimes we forget to . . . protect ourselves.”
She says “we” but she’s talking about herself.
“We drop out of school, don’t even get our own bank accounts, and if those alphas decide they’ve had enough? Well, the omega’s dropped like a steaming pile of shit into a world she knows nothing about.”
As if realizing what she’s admitted, the omega straightens and clears her throat. “Well, that’s the scenario I’d like to prevent, anyway.”
I can’t stop myself from reaching out to cover her pale hand with mine. “I’m so sorry that happened to you.”
Her eyes widen with alarm. “I never said it happened to me.”
The words didn’t come out through her mouth, but her eyes spoke them. “I’m really sorry that happened to you,” I repeat. “It was cruel and inhuman.”
Her jaw ticks and she yanks her hand back, holding it tight to her chest.
I should’ve kept my mouth shut, but I can’t shake the feeling she needed to hear what I said.
The omega sips from her glass, sets it down, and deflates. “Thank you. You’re right. It shouldn’t have happened. I guess I’m just nursing my pride.” She throws me a lopsided smile. “But I have a feeling that doesn’t matter to you.”
Her smile, her scent, and her vulnerability in this moment; everything draws me in.
I get out of my chair and squat down by her feet. “You matter to me, Willow.”
Her expression wavers, and she offers me her hand. I clasp it between both of mine, feeling how smooth her skin is under my work-roughened palms.
“I want to be someone to you, Willow.”
She sucks in a deep breath and her lips press together. “I’m sorry, Alessandro. I . . . I don’t think I can ever trust alphas again in that kind of relationship.”
Her rejection bites deep, but I nod. “I think I understand why.” I squeeze her hand and smile. “But how about a friend? Would that be okay? I don’t have many friends either, signorina.”
A soft laugh escapes her. “Is that right? You need a friend?”
I grin up at her, unrepentant. “Sì. You already have Mr Shares. I’m the lonely one.”
The dog, hearing his name, wanders over and sits on her foot, leaning his weight on my leg.
Willow rolls her eyes, clearly detecting my bluff, but not calling it. “Fine. Friends it is.”
“Deal.” Friend-zoning myself can’t exactly be called a win, and yet elation fizzes inside me like champagne. This omega needs a friend more than she needs a lover, and I can provide that for her. And in the process, I’ll prove that not all alphas are assholes.
The setting sun casts a blaze of orange fire across the yard. I bounce upright, reluctantly releasing her hand. “I’d better get going.”
She looks up. “See you tomorrow.”
“Sì. Tomorrow it is.”
And if I have any say in the matter, the day after that, and then the one after that as well.