Page 41 of Lilacs and Leather

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Page 41 of Lilacs and Leather

A few days after that date, he’d been called away for a family emergency, which turned out to be the birth of his nephew. He’d been smitten with the baby, sending me picture after picture. My favorite had been the one of him holding the baby for the first time in the hospital; the undimmed joy and awe on his face as he looked down at the newborn in his arms never failed to make me smile.

He texts me nearly constantly, calling in the evenings after I get home from work. It’s always been easy to talk to Rhett, and even though we’re apart, it was almost like a constant stream of conversation between us, flowing from one topic to the next, both through text and when we spoke. We’ve known each other for just a few weeks, but it feels like he’s been my friend for my whole life. I want to be frightened by how intense my feelings are, but I only feel warm and secure whenever I think about Rhett.

Rhett never mentioned if Lucas told him what I’d done at the wedding, but something that I didn’t realize had been nagging in the back of my head settled after Lucas and I talked. We are both adults, and in this day and age, getting someone’s blessing is a little outdated. But knowing that Lucas didn’t feel threatened by me still feels like a weight off my shoulders. Rhett and I are still moving slowly, even if our conversations stray from innocently flirtatious into the downright devious at times. But I’m still trying to wrap my head around exactly what Rhett wants from me. We haven’t broached that specific topic again, but it feels inevitable. The attraction is there; we just have to figure out how we’re going to make it work.

The clock in the storefront chimes the hour, and I sigh in relief when I see that it’s time to close. I walk to the front door to flip the sign and frown at the group of men I see through the glass. One of the work crews that’d been assigned to the awning repairs is standing outside, leaning on their trucks, and drinking from bottles inside of paper bags. The bulkiest one, with buzzed blond hair and coal dark eyes, notices me and stands straight, nudging one of his coworkers. I flip the sign over before locking the door and retreating behind the counter to close out the register. I can hear the men laughing outside, and I roll my eyes.

They’d been hanging around the front of Grandmother Wila’s since work began on the awning repairs last week, according to Gabby. In the mornings, they’d park their trucks right in front of the store, take their lunches on our bench, and hang outside for a while after work was done for the day. There were four of them, and they did nothing other than loiter, but it was getting on all of our nerves. It annoyed Wila that they were taking valuable parking from customers, but Gabby and I were far more concerned with the intent we could see in their eyes when they leered at us through the glass. Thankfully, they clear off by the time I leave for the day and head home.

∞∞∞

The next day, I’m working on inventory in one of the walk-in coolers when I hear the door chime. It’s midafternoon, and Gabby was driving Wila to a doctor’s appointment. I tuck the clipboard under one arm as I push through to the storefront, my customer service smile firmly in place. But I freeze as I see the blond worker from last night standing at the counter. His scent of kerosene and cheddar popcorn nearly makes me gag, and I take a step back, putting my back to the wall.

“Can I help you?” I ask, trying to breathe through my mouth.

“Uh yeah. Do you have any water? Me and my boys have been working up a sweat and could really use some refreshment,” he says, his voice almost boyishly high despite his muscled chest and shoulders.

“There’s a cafe next door,” I point out, motioning to the wall we share with it.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t have you on the menu,” he says, leaning heavily on the counter.

I blink at him a few times. “I’m sorry?” I ask in disbelief.

He sucks on his teeth, and I fight the urge to shudder as his dark eyes brazenly move up and down my body. “Listen, let’s just be honest with each other. I can tell you’re an omega, and I’m sure you can tell I’m an alpha. So do you just want to skip the song and dance and I’ll just meet you at The Devil’s Deuce tonight for drinks?” he goes on, waving a hand.

The Devil’s Deuce is one of the hole-in-the-wall bars that had popped up just outside of Old Town, trying to capitalize on the college kids bar hopping from one hipster spot to another. It was dark, full of shady corners and shadier deals, and almost always crawling with alphas.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” I scoff, hugging the clipboard to my chest.

“Seriously? I’m just trying to be nice. An omega like you can’t be getting offers like this all that often,” he shoots back, standing up and crossing his bulging arms over his chest.

I narrow my eyes at him. “I beg your pardon, ‘an omega like me’?” I throw back, hands balling into fists around the clipboard.

“Well, ya know, you’re not the kind of omega that most alphas go for. Most want one that they can toss around a little, someone that’s fragile and shit,” the alpha babbles, a smirk on his square face.

I can feel my heartbeat in my ears, my pulse rising as I stare the prick down. He’s one more smart remark away from learning that the term “fragile” can describe both glassandbombs.

He sucks his teeth again and rolls his eyes. “I get it. I’m not conventionally attractive, either. But I’m not yanking your chain.”

He does not know when to stop digging.“You want to try that again, my guy?” I growl.

His face lights up, mistaking my warning for interest. “Oh yeah, I’m totally into fat chicks, and you—”

Strike three, you’re out.“And that’s it. Leave, now,” I snap, pointing to the door.

“What?” he says, looking at me like I’ve suddenly grown an extra head.

I stomp around the counter and out of his reach before he recovers. I open the door and point outside again. “It seems like the only thing I can help you with today is finding the door. Leave,” I deadpan, glaring at him.

“What is your fucking problem?” he blusters, taking a step toward me.

“My fucking problem, right now, is you. I’m working, and you coming here to insult me is wasting my time.”

“It was a compliment, for fuck’s sake! Why are you making this a big deal?” he shouts, advancing another step.

I hold my ground, fighting the shaking in my arms. I stare him down, and he relents after a moment.

“Don’t need to act like such a frigid bitch, omega,” he grumbles as he passes me.




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