“I love it, I love kids. He is so stinking cute, his name is Ozzy. They adopted him four months ago. They both have high-profile jobs, so they aren’t around much.” I shrug my shoulders. “I’m glad that I get to be a constant for him. It’s me and one other nanny, so I only work three or four days a week. The pay is very gracious. It isn’t what I plan on doing forever though.”
A slight smile pans across his face. It’s hard to see, but the streetlights show just enough.He is so handsome.
A black Volvo pulls out of a spot and Griffin turns on his blinker. The tapping noise of the turn signal clicks away as we wait for the driver to leave, which is taking a considerable amount of time. Once the car is out of our way, Griffin masterfully squeezes into the tight parking space like some kind of parallel parking master. This is a huge reason I have not risked driving in Boston in the few months I’ve been here. I would probably try to get into the spot twenty times, then cry or beg a stranger on the street to park my car for me.
“Stay warm in the car, okay, and I’ll go grab the food real quick.” He pats my thigh and places a quick kiss on my temple.
I take this time to catch my breath, and it hits me that I’m planning on going to a man's house, who I just met. I need to alert someone to my whereabouts. Pulling out my phone and finding the contact name of my roommate Kelsey, I open a new text chat.
Me:Met a guy at Heat Haven. Going back to his place. I turned my location on. Talk tomorrow!
Kelsey:Emily! You’re in fucking Beacon Hill??? How did you meet a guy at Heat Haven? I thought you were just going to pick the nest suite you wanted.
Me:It’s a long story. I promise to catch you up tomorrow, okay?
Kelsey:This is like telling someone you know a huge secret and then not telling them said secret.
Me:He’s coming back with dinner right now. I promise I’ll tell you everything tomorrow! BYEEEEE.
I’m surprised Kelsey didn’t immediately call me after I broke the news to her. I haven’t dated since I moved to the area and she has not been quiet about telling me that I need an Alpha or a pack immediately. While I didn’t think I was being that cranky, with my heat around the corner, I know I haven’t been the easiest person to live with. What Griffin and I did in the elevator was the most action I’ve seen in months, and that release was needed desperately. Though your heat is the big finale, the days and weeks leading up to your heat can have Omegas feeling just as needy.
Griffin opens the back door and places the takeout on the floor. He grabbed a bottle of wine while he was out as well.Hopefully, it isn’t the nasty dry kind. He shuts the back door and plops into the front seat.
“It’s wicked fucking cold tonight, Jesus.” He blows warm air into his hands before he grabs the steering wheel. “You warm enough, sweetheart?”
I lean my head against the headrest and smile at him. “Yeah, I’m good.”
He returns my smile and heads down Charles Street. In under three minutes, we turn on Revere Street, where Griffin parks in a permitted spot. Exiting the vehicle, Griffin grabs the food and wine in the backseat before meeting me on the cobblestone sidewalk.
With expert hands, he holds the takeout and wine in one hand so he can hold mine in the other. We walk a few doors down until we're in front of a beautiful brick Federal-style row home. The exterior is a reddish brown brick with black shutters. The two lower windows have flower boxes sitting outside of them, which are currently filled with murky snow. The front door is forest green with a large gold knob in the center. Griffin enters a code, making the lock open. He releases my hand and opens the door, ushering me to walk in first.
His home is beautifully decorated and clean. The first thing I notice is how much his home smells like him. It feels like I’m walking into a warm hug as I step through the front door. To my left there is a study. The walls are painted black and covered by bookshelves that are filled with hundreds of books. An emerald green chaise sits next to a beautifully mantled fireplace, it looks like the perfect place to snuggle up with a book. To my right, there's a black staircase that spirals both upstairs and downstairs.
Further down the hall, there's a large seating area with a big leather sofa and massive T.V. The ceilings are coffered in this room, giving the room an illusion of being larger than it actually is. A beautiful crystal chandelier hangs in the middle of the room. The chandelier is easily over a hundred years old. It doesn’t go with most of his decor, but I can see why he kept it.
Griffin motions for me to keep walking until I reach the kitchen. It’s modern with white cabinets and marble countertops. Not a single thing out of place or an ounce of clutter sits on the counters. A massive island takes up most of the kitchen, where Griffin places the food. There is yet another fireplace in the kitchen itself, with a large T.V. hanging over it. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that in a person's house before. Must be a guy thing.
Just as I’m about to speak, a cute little ball of black fur plops onto the kitchen island and starts rubbing against my shoulder. It’s a little black Halloween kitty with mossy green eyes. The cat purrs instantly and I go to give them chin scratches.
“Oh, and who might you be?” I fondly say to the extremely friendly cat.
“This is Binx, he’s an attention whore.”
Griffin scoops the cat up and kisses his little tiny head.Swoon.He grabs some wet food from a drawer and places it on the floor for Binx to enjoy.
“Hmm, I wouldn’t have pegged you for a cat guy.”
“Well, you won’t be pegging me at all, remember? The no check mark next to ass play, well for me anyway,” he jests, and winks at me.
I giggle and smack his shoulder lightly.Maybe one day I could convince him to uncheck that box.
Chapter five
Griffinpoursuseacha glass of red wine and thankfully it’s sweet and fruity tasting. It reminds me almost of a sangria with its citrus and apple notes. I hum as I take a sip and Griffin gives me a knowing look, like he knew I would want something sweet. He pulls plates out of the cupboard to dish out our meals. We split the ravioli appetizer, which was fantastic, it tasted unreal. Whoever thought to mix ricotta cheese and sweet potato deserves a culinary award.
As he pulls out our entrées, I look at his meal and man, his Bolognese looks so good. I have to stop myself from drooling as I smell the onion and tomato scent of his dish. The noodles are tagliatelle, which means they most likely make all their pasta from scratch, as they should with how much they charge for an entrée. Maybe he’ll share? When I was with Dale and his pack, sharing food was an absolute no-go. I should have known then that it wouldn’t work out.
“Emily, are you eyeing up my Bolognese?”
