Corin’s brow furls when I share my suspicion that the alpha who helped with Max’s last heat sent the flowers and gift. No excitement. He doesn’t push for additional information or how I feel. He just nods as he fastens the buttons on his blue shirt, each covering more of the tight undershirt over his wide chest. He’s wearing sharp-pressed navy slacks. A matching jacket lies on the side of the bed, a blue-and-white polka-dotted tie slung atop it.
A tie? The dress code for the firm is business casual, but he and I usually tend toward the business end. Even so, this is formal for him.
I’m still in my silky nightdress, hem floating just above my knees in gusts of heat from the floor vents. The contrast makes me ill-at-ease, even though he hasn’t finished dressing.
“Why so formal?” I wave at the jacket and tie.
“Today’s meeting about Max’s estate. It’s in our offices, on our turf, but I want no doubts about who’s in charge.” Corin’s gesture includes me. “Will you be okay? We can put the meetingoff a little longer if necessary, though we do need to start on planning and paperwork.”
Right. Max’s estate and the puzzle of his asking Dan to be a part of it. The roses and book had mostly driven that from my mind, but it all floods back now. “No, don’t reschedule.”
I flee to grab clothes and do the same as Corin: dress to impress. Let my clothes signal that I’ve done fine without Dan.
Maybe that will help me keep from blurting out the questions neither he nor Max ever answered, all of which boil down to:what went wrong?
I choose a silky dress that drapes my curves beautifully and is a breeze to move in. As an extra plus, the dress has nice, deep pockets. Underneath I’m in my favorite pink lingerie, pieces I chose, not Max, so no itchy lace. I like how I look, and I’m comfortable.
Only when face to face with Corin again do I realize the polka-dotted fabric matches his tie. The blues aren’t the same, but they complement each other. For a moment, I consider running back up to change.
One glance at my face and Corin’s lips twitch. He offers to change his tie, a much easier proposition.
“No.” I march over, low heels clicking against the tiled floor, and adjust the tie, even though unnecessary. “Let them see us as a team.”
He touches my cheek, our gazes meet, and for a moment there are only the two of us are present. I lean in. Given another minute, I might have kissed him.
Footsteps down the hall make me jerk.
By the time Anamaria trots through the door, I’m several feet away, cheeks hot. Her gaze skims over her father, then fixes on me, and she smiles.
“I think I’ve got dress almost that shade of blue. Shall I change?” She twirls, showing off a mint green tunic over blackjeans with matching earrings and necklace, and we both assure her she looks great as-is.
The smell of brewing coffee covers all other scents, that and bread toasting. Evidently Corin has decided we deserve a fancy breakfast of avocado or banana-smash toast, or half-and-half.
I float away to stop distracting him and end up in the dining room, staring at the roses. They stand tall in their vase. No drooping and no petals littering the gleaming wood, not yet.
I run my fingers over the buds, delighting in the soft brush of furled petals.
No real reason for me to believe Nathan sent them to me, but I do. I’m just not sure why—or what lies behind the addition of white roses to the mix of Max’s red and my pink. The most obvious rationale is either wishful thinking or yet another complication, considering my almost-kissing Corin. Granted, he kissed me several times yesterday, but me initiating would escalate whatever’s shifting between us.
“What would Max think?” I ask under my breath, not realizing Anamaria followed me.
“Lots of things. No one ever has just one thought.” She stops kitty-corner from me, just within arm’s reach. “He’d enjoy your pleasure and puzzlement. Appreciate that whoever sent the flowers included him in the mix. Yes, he’d worry about change—after all he had most of your attention and care for so long—but he loved you and wanted you to be happy.”
“Do you know that, or is it supposition?” One of the red roses angles lower than the others. The petals are soft, the exact shade of blood red Max preferred.
“Some of each. We talked often, especially after my designation came through.”
“Of course. He loved you, too.” My fingers drop away from the rose as I turn to wrap an arm around her waist. She returns the embrace, then pulls back and shifts to face me.
“One of the things we talked about was that most omegas end up in relationships with packs of at least three, generally alphas with, at most, one or two betas. Sometimes two omegas will share a pack, in which case it tends to include at least four or five alphas. If an omega pairs with a single alpha, they’re usually searching for other pack members and rarely stay that way for long. There are omegas who stay single, I know some”—a quick smile flashes across her face, then fades—“but omegas paired with a single beta are rare.”
“I know.” Though it’s true, I’ve lived with the situation so long that it’s been my day-to-day life and thus it’s easy to forget just how unusual Max and I were. How unsettling some people, mostly alphas, found us.
“He wanted me to know why he chose this—you—because he wanted me to think about the kind of arrangements I wanted, and what I’d be willing to settle for.” She takes my hands, rubbing my suddenly-chilled fingers.
A lump starts to form in my belly. Max checked with me sometimes, to be sure he didn’t share information about me that I’d be uncomfortable with, but he’d never told me all that he and Anamaria discussed.
It would be only natural for him to share aspects of being an omega with her that he hadn’t with me. She’d understand. I expected that.
