“Who?” That was the only answer to that question. When I looked at Bowen, all my mating instincts took over, and I couldn’t remember why I had settled for someone that wasn’t my fated mate for so long.
I hadn’t even mated with him and I couldn’t deny that he was mine already.
“I like that answer. Goodnight, Remi. You’ve only got one weekend, okay? Make it count.”
I got in the shower and washed away the day while overthinking every interaction with Bowen during the day. I watched for clues that he was into me but nothing stood out. Maybe Seth was right. I needed to be bolder.
Bold wasn’t really my thing, but the omega down the hall from me made me want to be bold and brave.
I lay in bed later and tried to forgive myself for not acting on my impulses. If I had, Bowen might be sleeping next to me or saying my name from underneath me.
All I could do was try tomorrow and hope Fate stepped in just a bit more to help me.
Chapter Ten
Bowen
I didn’t lie awake all night. I thought I would, still frustrated by the evening’s abrupt end. But the long day of travel—especially the shortcut—the emotional weight of meeting Remi, and the great quantity of food sent me into a deep sleep that lasted until the sun rose. If I dreamed, I had no memories of it. But the moment my eyes opened, I sat up, ready to see what the day would bring. If I could pull the courage together, I would ask him why he didn’t make a move the night before. Omegas didn’t do that, usually… We were taught to wait for the alphas to make the moves. Not that I was the best at that. In the past, I’d flirted a bit here and there when it seemed expedient. But those were just crushes, nothing that was ever going to be forever, and this?
It had to be right. It was too important. Fate didn’t give second chances, so far as I’d ever heard, and if I made a misstep, could I blow the whole thing?
Climbing out of bed, I tried to shrug off my paranoid overthinking. Next thing, I’d be performing superstitious rituals under the full moon. I’d never in my life felt so frantic for something to work. All the things I’d heard about finding one’s mate banged around in my skull as I showered and prepared for the day. And just as my anxiety peaked, I remembered something. I’d never met anyone who “messed up” their meeting with their fated mate. Probably there were exceptions, but everyone I knew who had been lucky enough to have a fated ended up with them.
It was mine to lose, and if I didn’t chill, I’d ruin Franklin’s record.
Dressed in jeans and a sweater, I headed downstairs and into the kitchen. Expecting to smell bacon or sausage grilling, Iwas surprised to find only coffee and sweet rolls. And, of course, Franklin.
He looked up from his newspaper. “How did you sleep, Bowen?”
“Fine.” But I was focused on the printed pages in front of him. I couldn’t remember when I last saw someone reading one. “You can still get those delivered? Like in the old TV shows?”
“Why yes.” He turned the page and smoothed it under his palms. “Although not exactly the same as you are probably thinking. No small boy on a bicycle pedaled past, tossing them from saddlebags. They are dropped off by someone in a car, probably also works for Uber or something. And I pay more for the delivery than the actual paper.”
“Then, why? Couldn’t you just read it online?” I was pretty sure they still put out those versions, although I got my news from other types of online outlets.
“I could, but I like the feel of the paper and the scent of the ink. Or maybe it’s just a habit. Either way, want a section?”
“If he doesn’t, I do.” Remi’s voice came from behind me, and when I turned, he offered a warm smile. “Good morning, Bowen. Franklin.”
“Morning.” Franklin separated a section for himself and pushed the rest across the table. “Help yourselves to coffee, and there’s some sweet rolls on the counter.”
“Thanks.” I headed for the coffeepot. “These look great.” I was a little disappointed, though. Dinner had been so good and filling.
“I normally serve a full breakfast, but the festival has so much food, I know you’ll be eating all day. This is just to tide you over.”
Remi filled his mug and took a pastry. “Festival?”
“Didn’t I tell you?” He smacked his forehead, leaving some newsprint behind. It really did come off like in the movies. “Youcame the perfect weekend. A town not too far away is having their tulip festival this weekend, and I thought it would be an enjoyable day for the two of you. Of course, if you’d rather do something else, I can make you some eggs and bacon, pancakes, whatever you’d like.”
“Oh no.” I joined Franklin and Remi at the table. “I think that sounds great. If you want to, Remi?”
“Yes, I definitely do. And I cannot think when I last spent an hour in the morning with coffee, danish, and a real newspaper.” Sorting through the pages, he picked up a section. “This is perfect.”
Bemused, I also read the newspaper, but I wasn’t crazy about the ink on my hands, and I remembered in a novel the butler used to iron the paper and I thought it was to set the ink. Online news would have to do unless I ever had a butler. Which seemed unlikely. Still, I enjoyed the coffee, and the pastry was tender, delicate, and delicious, and watching the older man and the one who must have at least a bit of old-school at heart was fun.
When we finished, it was time to leave for the festival, and I had decided not to out and out ask what happened the night before. Maybe he was just being a gentleman. We’d see how the day went. If he was truly my mate, everything should resolve by the time we came back.
Chapter Eleven
