Ex-con Alpha (Alpha Meets Omega 3)

“It’s hard for me to meet anyone in my pack. Most of the Alphas there are either married, in a relationship, or, well, just not a good choice.”

“What makes them not a good choice?” he asked, leaning back and taking a sip of his drink.

“I don’t know. They just aren’t my type, I guess.”

“What is your type?” he asked with a slow smile.

“I guess I’m just old fashioned. I’m looking for someone who believes there is more to a relationship than having an Omega to cook, clean, and spit out babies.”

“You don’t want to be a housewife,” he stated.

“Yes and no. I would love to have a husband and children to take care of one day, but not right off the bat. I want to enjoy being together for a while before we have kids, and I’d like to do something else.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. I guess I don’t know what I’m good at yet. I mean, I went to school to become a masseuse, and I do that a few days a week down at the Opal Spa, but it’s hardly a life’s work your grandchildren will brag about, is it?”

“I don’t know. It could be. Maybe you’ll win a prize for best masseuse in the world or something,” he teased.

“Right. Anyway, what about you?”

“Me? I’ve made some mistakes. I’m not going to go down in history for slinging beers either. I know what you mean, though. I’d like to accomplish something before I die.”

“Well, there we are. That’s one thing we have in common. We want to be something more than we are now.”

“I don’t think it’s the only thing. I’d like a family too, with a wife that I can share more with than just changing diapers and feeding time. I don’t know that I’m ready to do that tomorrow, but one day, if I meet the right person.”

“God, look at us. Here we are on our first date—well, not even a date—and we’re talking about marriage,” she laughed.

“How about another drink?”

“Sure. Thanks,” she said.

She rarely drank very much, but she was uncharacteristically nervous, and it was relaxing her a bit. Travis was older, no doubt more experienced with relationships. Even with a little case of the jitters, he was easy to talk to, and she found herself losing track of time.

“Wow, it’s gotten late. I should get going,” she told him.

“Did you drive here?” he asked.

“Yes. I’ll call someone to pick me up. The car will be okay here until morning, won’t it?”

“Sure. They lock up the gates when they close and set the dogs free. No one in their right mind would come in here with six bull mastiffs roaming about. They’re very protective and territorial.”

“Like wolves.”

“Like wolves,” Travis repeated, followed by a little laugh. “Come on. I’ll take you home.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she began.

“I’m harmless. I promise. You can call my mom if you’d like a reference on what a good boy I am,” he said with a sly grin.

Kat eyed him up and down for a moment and then agreed. She was all nerves as she walked with him out to the parking lot, suddenly hit by a thought that her foggy brain hadn’t considered before now.

“Wait, you’ve been drinking too.”

“Coke. No alcohol.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Kat wanted to ask more but decided it might lead to some heavy discussion she wasn’t ready for on their first pseudo date. They’d already discussed marriage, and that was more than she’d intended. If things worked out, she’d see if it was just a tonight thing or more and whether it was anything to be concerned about. The thought made her laugh. Here she was considering whether the sober guy had a drinking problem when she was the one positively tipsy.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“Nothing. I think I drank too much.”

He smiled at her and pointed her toward an old Ford Bronco that had seen better days. Not only was it dented in several places, but it had a cracked side window held together by some duct tape and was painted with what looked like flat black primer.

“You sure that thing is going to get us there?”

“She runs a lot better than she looks. I rebuilt her myself. I’ll get her painted one day soon. I’ve got to strip off the Rustoleum some idiot put on there instead of fixing her up right.”

“Why do men always talk about their trucks or cars like they are women?”

“Because we can’t decide which we love more,” he told her, opening the door and smiling down at her as he helped her in.

Kat had an overwhelming urge to kiss him. Her heart thudded heavily against her chest as he closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side to get in. She felt flushed as he sat down beside her and more than a bit lightheaded. No one had ever affected her like this.