Interesting.
I’m not sure what to do with that information yet, but I’ll file it away for when I’ve had more sleep and I’m not mourning the loss of three cute ginger cats.
“Are you a coffee guy?” I ask him, wanting to keep the conversation going. I’m sure he has to get back to the clinic, but I’ll try to keep him with me for small talk as long as possible.
“I prefer tea,” he says. “Chamomile. It’s my favorite.”
I freeze mid coffee-sip and my breath catches.
Now, it’s my turn to blush.
I’m well aware of my Omega scent. I perfume chamomile, which is ironically known to be calm and soothing.
And if that is Logan’s favorite flavor…
He holds eye contact this time, and I could swear I see a challenge in his eyes.
“Oh,” I squeak. “That’s nice.”
He nods, and I half expect a scent match to happen right here and now.
Where’s Ivan? Maybe if the three of us stand in a room together long enough…
I’m lost in the fantasy until Mari bursts in from the back room. “Doctor Ambrose!” she chirps. “Good morning!”
Logan Ambrose.
The name sends a rush of warmth through my veins.
It’s just as nice asIvan Stone.
Logan gives Mari a polite smile and nod. “Good morning, Mari,” he says. “How are you?”
“I’m great. Oh! Maeve!” Mari says, giving me a scandalous smile. “I wasn’t interrupting anything, was I?”
I fight an eye roll. Mari is always playing matchmaker, and in her head, I must have a pack of a thousand Alphas.
“Just a discussion about coffee and tea preferences,” I say, smirking.
Mari must be in a good mood today, because she nods enthusiastically and points to me while looking at Logan. “This one here. This woman? She single-handedly got all three of those orange girls adopted. She can find a good home foranycat.”
Logan’s smile grows as I huff. “I heard.”
“She has done more for our marketing than any advertising agency could. She istalented. Andsmart.”
“Okay, Mari. Thanks. I think he gets it.” I shoot daggers at her with my gaze, but Mari doesn’t care. She grins delightedly as she continues to sing my praises to Logan while my face flames.
“Anyway,” I say, interrupting once the older Omega announces how single I am, “it’s breakfast time for the cats.”
“We also need to clean the litter boxes,” Mari adds.
I grimace, and Logan huffs a soft laugh.
His smile lights up his face, such a stark contrast from yesterday.
Sure, he’s still a little awkward, but I’m relieved to know that he doesn’t think I’m some crazy, irritating girl.
In fact, I’m pretty sure he likes me.
