He looks like he’s about to start asking awkward questions – possibly along the lines oftell me why you were locked in my dumpster– so I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.
“Neither are you. What I expected, I mean.”
It’s a clumsy confession, but it’s true. Alphas have been a red warning sign for me my whole adult life. First through the people that tried to sell me, then at the OC, and then when I managed to break free, alphas were still a danger – maybe even more so, with nothing stopping them from taking advantage. Big, threatening, with the ability to chain my body and force me to do whatever they want with a single bark.
I won’t ever live like that again.
Hudson feels different. I’m not on edge, my body relaxed as we talk. I don’t know what I expected. But it definitely wasn’t this. Coffee, and conversation… even understanding, with this alpha and his knowing eyes.
“I’m not good at this,” he says wryly, getting up to refill our cups. “Like I said, I’ve never spent time around omegas before. So if I do anything to make you uncomfortable, I need you to tell me straight away. I’ll never do it intentionally.”
Honesty. I like it. “I understand. I’ll tell you. As long as you don’t use your bark, I’ll be alright.”
His low growl is furious. “Never.”
It feels like a promise, and I relax a little more at his vehement disgust. Maybe this might turn out alright, after all.
As I pile on more creamer, Hudson grabs a folder and slides out a sheet of paper, pushing it over to me. I pause, my eyes flicking over the employment contract and my eyebrows rising as I take in the payment terms.
It’s more than I ever made at the diner. Hudson leans forward too, our foreheads nearly touching as we both look at the wording.
He names a figure that nearly makes my eyes bulge out of my head. “This is an old contract, so the numbers are off. That’s your hourly rate, plus you get to keep all your tips if you do any front of house work. Free meals when you’re on shift, and a thirty minute rest break. How’s that sound?”
How does it sound? Like I’ve won the freaking lottery.
He holds out a hand, and I will my fingers not to shake as I reach out. He gently clasps them, shaking up and down.
“We have a deal, it seems,” he says, smiling.
He starts pulling pots and pans out from underneath the counter, setting them out on the side. Uncertain, I shift in my seat. “Um… do you want me to come back?” I ask awkwardly.
Hudson turns to me, raising an eyebrow. “I’m cooking you breakfast, sweetheart. Consider it your welcome to the crew.” He mumbles something else under his breath, disappearing through a door as I sit on the stool with a lump in my throat.
He’s cooking me breakfast?
Hudson is a whirlwind in the kitchen. He strides from section to section, grabbing what he needs without even looking as he throws together a delicious looking meal in a matter of minutes.
My stomach growls loudly as he sets a plate in front of me, and he winks.
“No empty stomachs in my kitchen. Staff rule.”
Staring down at the feast of pancakes, drizzled with syrup and crispy bacon, I sniff. The plate wavers in front of me.
“Gabrielle?” Hudson asks, worry in his tone. “Oh, God. Are you vegetarian?”
I laugh wetly, pressing my hands to my cheeks and shaking my head. “Sorry,” I croak. “It’s just… this is really nice.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” Gentle hands cup my cheek as he wipes away a tear. “Where have you been to cry over a breakfast, hmm? Even one asexcellentas this one.”
I snort out a teary laugh, and he steps back as I wipe my face. “I’m so sorry.” Embarrassment stains my cheeks, more heat coming off them than the cooker. “I really appreciate it.”
“Nonsense.” He waves his hand in the air. “Now eat. We’ve got a busy day ahead.”
I dive into the delicious food, struggling not to moan over the feel of the fluffy pancakes in my mouth. The bacon is a lost cause, the first sacrifice to settle my rumbling stomach.
“Oh, god, this is good.” The moan slips out. Hudson freezes as I stop, mid-chew.
His scent strengthens as he carries on without saying anything, and I try my best to tone down the awkwardness by stuffing my face as quickly as possible.
