Page 7 of Lilacs and Leather
“But he doesn’t know how to contact me, right?” I ask frantically.
Jason sighs again. “Why do you think I’m calling at the ass crack of dawn?”
I swallow against the lump in my throat, clutching my mug tighter to stop my hands from shaking. Cold sweat forms on my palms.
“I can’t, Jace. I just can’t,” I say, no louder than a whisper.
“Of fucking course, you can’t, Lydia. I’m not asking you to,” Jason says quickly.
“Then why—”
“I told him I’d call and pass the message that they set the funeral for this Wednesday. And I’m telling you I’m going to report back that your car has crapped out again and you can’t make the drive,” Jason says, his tone even and pointed.
“How unfortunate for me. I’ll just have to send some flowers and my condolences,” I say, relief sweeping my system.
Jason chuckles. “I’m sure Mom will really appreciate that. Make sure you include peonies.”
I roll my eyes. Grandpa Fletcher was allergic to the flower, but my mother adores them.
“Of course. Wouldn’t dream of forgetting that.”
The line goes quiet for a few moments, and I can hear a spoon stirring in a coffee cup. I take another sip of my coffee.
“Is everything really okay with you, Lydi?” he asks, soft and hesitant.
I soften a little at the genuine concern in his voice. “Yeah, I just had a long day yesterday. Worked a big, expensive wedding at a super swanky hotel. I guess the stress bled over into my sleep,” I admit, tracing a hairline crack in my mug with a finger.
“Hobnobbing it with the other half, I see,” Jace snorts.
“Yeah, I wish. I was there long enough to set up, and then we were rushed to a back room, out of sight until teardown time. They did give us some of the leftover catering, which was out of this world,” I say, finishing my coffee.
Jason laughs and then goes quiet again. I wait, giving him space. I hear a faint beep from his side.
“Speak of the devil. I’ve got to go. It’s Dad,” Jason sighs.
“Okay. Thanks for the call, Jace. Love you,” I say, smiling.
“Love you, too, Lydi. Talk again soon.”
I disconnect the call, looking at the screen until it goes black. I sigh and tilt my head back, resting it against the wall. Jason has pulled me out of the line of fire once again. Maybe one day I’ll stop jumping in front of loaded guns. Or maybe one day my family will stop pointing them at me.
Four
Lydia
It’s been a week and a half since my run in with that blond alpha at Wickland House, and I wake from yet another dream involving his hands and mouth on me.Thoroughly flushed and covered in a thin sheen of sweat, my alarm pulls me from sleep and away from the edge of release. I groan and stretch, feeling my thighs slick with arousal and the damp pillow tucked between them. I toss it away, chastising myself. I am an adult, not a horny, pillow-humping teenager. I grab my phone from beside the bed and spit a particularly colorful profanity as I see the date. My heat.
As I set about my morning routine, I pull the orange bottle of heat suppressants from the bathroom cabinet. It’s a little early in my cycle to be feeling so… hot and bothered, but based on these dreams, I’d rather be safe than sorry. I swallow the pills and take extra care to thoroughly cover my hair and body with the scent-masking products before and after getting dressed. It takes a full day for the suppressants to work at their max strength, and I have to cover the store today while Gabby and Wila make a delivery. It would only be a few hours near closing, but I’m not taking any chances that an alpha would come in and realize I’m near my heat.
Can’t say I would mind one particular alpha throwing me over his shoulder and taking me back to—
NOPE.
I shake my head, clearing it of traitorous thoughts. I don’t even know his name. Why would I trust him enough to spend my heat with him? I shudder at the thought. Even my milder cycles could cause me to go absolutely crazy with need. The mere idea of spending that time with a stranger, of being intimate with an alpha who could press his advantage when I had next to no control over my body and mind is enough to cool any lingering desire from my dreams.
I dress casually, jeans and a tank top covered by a zip up hoodie. Winter is hanging on for dear life, and it’s been cool enough that even the climate control of the shop wouldn’t be enough to keep me warm all day. I throw my scent-masking spray in my bag before heading out with my coffee in hand.
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