Page 66 of Talk About… Dramay
“Just that you were coming,” I admitted. “I didn’t know we were scent matches. Or they were for that matter.”
“Which one is the guy we were hired for?” he asked.
“The one in flannel,” I admitted. “We’ve talked a lot of it through. I don’t have the trust yet, but we’re working on it.”
“And them?”
“I’ve been distraught thinking they’d leave me at the end of this job. I want them to stay,” I said in a quiet voice. The whiskey had me talking a bit too much, so I took another drink before offering him the bottle.
He didn’t hesitate to take it, wrapping his lips around it. I watched every movement, clocking the strong jaw covered in a beard, his warm, brown eyes looking guarded.
When he pulled it away, he raised an eyebrow at me.
“So, matches, huh?”
“Guess so,” I said with a shrug, taking another drink.
“If you’re a pack, why are you drinking alone and why are they bickering?” he asked as I passed the bottle back.
“Cameron is mad because I got upset they hid it from me. I was upset because I’d just bared my soul to Cam and got thirteen years worth of resentment off my chest. Roman is mediating. He’s the cutie with curly black hair,” I summed it up before flopping back on the dock.
Tate sat the bottle on his other side, away from me, and joined me. Our heads touched, warmth spreading from the contact and through my body.
“I get the feeling,” he said. “I let my family talk me into an arranged marriage. I didn’t love her or really want it, but I was raised in that world. At the altar… she left, telling everyone I was controlling and abusive. They disowned me on the spot to save face, not caring if it was true or not… which it wasn’t, by the way, she was simply using me as a scapegoat. She’d found her pack and they weren’t the same status as we were.”
“What a bitch,” I sputtered, turning to look at him. “I’m sorry she did that to you. And I’m sorry your family is shit.”
He chuckled. “They really are. I’m realizing that maybe I should have let go of that a long time ago.”
His sigh was bone-deep and weary. My hand reached for his on instinct, our fingers locking together. He didn’t shy away as we looked at each other, absorbing the moment.
“I thought I’d never give an omega a chance, summed all omegas up to be vindictive liars.”
“Some are,” I agreed.
“But not all,” he asked more than said.
“Not all,” I agreed. “I’ve been hurt enough. I don’t have any more energy for lies and deceit. Either my matches are in, or they’re out. No games. I’m finally home for the first time in thirteen years, and I have every intention of being happy.”
“I think I’d like to stay and get to know you,” he admitted. That seemed to surprise him but he didn’t take the words back.
“Are you going to break my heart, Tate? I don’t think it can take any more,” I whispered, voice hoarse from the words and whiskey tonight.
“No, Sweetheart. I’m going to try my damndest not to. I just may need a little patience,” he admitted. “But I also have never felt drawn to someone like this. I just want to pull you in my arms and shield you from the world.”
“Sometimes I need that, sometimes I want to fight my own battles,” I said, again being brutally honest. “I’m sarcastic when I’m tired, would much rather drink my coffee by the creek. Sometimes, I dress up, other times I’d rather wear sweatpants and be cozy. I love my family with my whole soul, and I think I’m going to open an antique shop and spend my life here in Rockwood Valley.”
His smile widened as he listened to me ramble, my cheeks warming at the attention. Tate was a bit intimidating, but all consuming at the same time. I had his sole attention at the moment and I preened at that.
“I like to camp, my favorite nights are reading by the fireplace or a bonfire if that’s not an option. I like tea over coffee,and I probably should drink more water than I do. I’m cynical at best, and a bit overbearing. That was one of my exes’ complaints, I was too involved… too much. But I’m an ‘all in for those I care about’ kind of alpha.”
“Want to go on a date with me, alpha?”
He nodded. “I would love that, Sweetheart.”
Tate sat up, glancing over at the still arguing pack. He stood all the way up before offering a hand. I put my palm in his and he pulled me to my feet, brushing a kiss over my forehead.
“Let’s go get our pack, omega.”