Alpha for Valentines (Alpha Meets Omega 1)

“I’ll say. You’re probably better at drawing other things too. We’re always our own worst critic.”

“Hey, can you draw me the face of the man who you thought was watching you?”

“Oh, come on. No. He wasn’t watching me. He was just checking on someone, or something.”

“Probably, but it couldn’t hurt.”

“He was wearing a cap. I couldn’t really see him.”

“Every time?”

“No, not every time. I think I . . . No, I did get a look at him once.”

“Draw him for me, just to be on the safe side.”

“Maybe after dinner. Okay?”

“Not maybe.”

“Okay. After dinner then.”

As if to end the subject, the timer went off and she stood up to put the rolls in the oven.

“These will be ready in a few minutes,” she told him, stuffing them in the oven and setting out their plates on the table.

He brought the bottle of wine and their glasses over and sat them down before pulling her to him and kissing her. She smiled up at him. Somehow, she still wasn’t sure she should be letting herself get so close to him, but she decided that maybe it was best to just go with her heart over her head for once. Being this close to him, it was hard to think any other way. His scent, all wolf and sandalwood, was intoxicating to her. The thought flagged something about the man in her mind and she blurted it out without thinking.

“He’s human.”

“What?”

“The man, the one that I thought was watching me. He’s human.”

“How do you know?”

“I can’t smell him. When I was running past and he got out of the car. I was still close. I would have smelled him if he were a shifter, wolf or otherwise.”

“Well, that’s something I guess. I checked into it a bit and found out one of your neighbors is pretty wrecked physically and has people coming in to check on him throughout the day. It may just be someone waiting on a caretaker to do his or her things and come back out.”

“I didn’t realize you’d done that.”

“Just making sure there’s nothing for you to worry about.”

The timer dinged again and the conversation fell to the wayside as she pulled rolls from the oven and began putting them in a bowl.

“You want to take the lasagna over while I put these and the salad on the table? There’s a pair of oven mitts laying on the counter right there,” she said, nodding to the right side of the stove.

Ryan retrieved the glass pan, still bubbling hot and sat it on the metal trivet while Lucy brought the rest of the food. They sat down to eat, not continuing the prior conversation about the mystery man. Lucy still wasn’t really thrilled with his snooping around too much. It seemed like a bit of an invasion of privacy - not only hers, but her neighbors. It was sweet that he wanted to take care of her, but she didn’t really need him to do that. She was beginning to feel uneasy about how close they were getting, despite having invited it. The bottom line was she felt like a confused flake.

“So, you said your father is alive, but you aren’t close. Do you have any brothers or sisters?” he asked as she helped herself to some salad and passed the bowl to him.

“No. I’m an only child.”

“That sounds unusual. Were your parents not Alphas?”

“No. My father was an Alpha, the Alpha of our pack, actually. Mom was an Omega, but there was an incident when she was pregnant with her first litter. A rival pack attacked and she got caught in the fray. She lost most of the litter, except me, but she wasn’t able to have any more children after that.”

“So, your father had no male heir. Sounds purposeful. Is he still the Alpha of the pack?”

“No. He, um, he did some stuff and was exiled by the pack.”

“That must have been hard for you.”

“Not really. It was after I was already gone, so it didn’t really affect me. I was already estranged from him by then.”

“Where is your father now?”

“I have no idea.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“It’s okay. It feels like ancient history now.”

He took a bite of his food and chewed it, looking at her thoughtfully. She could tell he wanted to ask more questions, but he seemed to sense it wasn’t a subject she was fond of and didn’t. Instead, he changed the subject.

The conversation turned toward less personal discussion, like her classes and his new beat with Tate, what he could tell her about it. They cleared plates away together and returned to the sofa with their wine. Ryan encouraged her to sketch the man she had seen on her street and she picked up her pad, quickly throwing together an image of the man she had seen while Ryan watched.