Chapter One
JULY
Why did I always do this? I blamed the fact that I had far too much time on my hands… and despite the fact that I could be pretty confident in most cases, that did not translate to my conversations with Grant Foster. Those usually ended with me saying something horribly embarrassing, and him just grunting back at me. I still wasn't sure if he was making fun of me when he did that, or if he was just doing it to get me to shut up.
Unfortunately, regardless of how poised and confident I could be on camera, and how funny I could be online, or even usually in real life, the alpha that lived a door down from mine, who always looked at me like I spoke a completely different language than he did, and who was sexy as fuck, even as he seemed to do everything in his power to seem unappealing, made me unbelievably, embarrassingly incapable of doing things like a normal human being.
Which was why I found myself standing in front of his door, hesitating only a moment, before reaching up to knock on the white wood, hating myself just a little for it, and wondering when the man was finally going to get sick of my bullshit, and tell me to stop bothering him.
"Hi," I said brightly, clutching my bowl to my chest, while smiling widely. "Do you have a cup of sugar I could borrow?"
I groaned internally. I'd meant to switch it up this time. Maybe ask for some flour or butter, or anything but sugar, since that had been the excuse I'd used the last five times, but apparently, I'd somehow developed the easiest habit imaginable, because instead of saying anything else, I'd opened my mouth and let sugar fall right on out.
The man probably thought I sat around and ate spoonfuls of free sugar all the time. I was sure by the sheer amount of take-out to show up at my house, he knew that my culinary skills were lacking considerably, so he had to know I wasn't using the stuff for baking.
He grunted, nodding slightly like he always did, while stepping back to let me pass.
I raked my gaze over his delicious form, noting how his thin, gray T-shirt molded to the curve of his pec, and down over his chiseled torso. The material was thin enough to easily make out the shape of his nipple, and the slight roughness that indicated he was fairly hairy under there, and I growled slightly, covering it with a cough when I imagined dark, nearly black hair spread across his chest and abs, and disappearing down into his dark jeans.
"You can come in," he grumbled after a moment, raising an eyebrow at me. "I won't bite."
What if I asked nicely?
He raised a second eyebrow, blinking, and I had a slight moment of panic as I worried I might have said that out loud, but when all he did was give me a small nod in the direction of the interior of the house, I felt pretty confident that he was just waiting on my stupid ass to move.
Once inside with the door shut, I turned to him, and he came up short, frowning slightly as he looked down at me, and I did my best not to look like I was completely smitten as I gave him a small smile, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible as I took a long deep breath, pulling as much of his scent into my lungs as possible.
The man always smelled so damn delicious. Rich and almost nutty. Bitter-sweet. It made me think of mornings spent on the front porch when I still lived at home, a huge cup of coffee clasped happily in between both hands, while I listened to the birds greet the sun.
I was more than a little infatuated with his scent, and I knew it, but I couldn't seem to help it.
He reached out toward me, and I gasped slightly, looking up at his handsome face and then back down at his hand, not entirely sure what to think. In all the time that I’d known the man, he'd never even insinuated that he wanted to touch me, so for him to reach for me was surprising, but if he wanted to touch me now, I sure as hell wasn't going to fight him on it.
I swallowed hard, looking up at his pretty green eyes, before stepping even closer, almost moaning as his morning coffee smell grew bolder, sexier. He frowned slightly, but brought his hand a little closer and I bit my lip, happy tingles going straight to my gut.
I wasn't sure what I wanted him to touch more. My face? My neck? My dick? I was pretty sure he could put the tip of his index finger against the center of my forehead, and I'd be fucking delirious with happiness… but he stopped completely, his hand just kind of hanging there in the middle of the air as he seemed to be waiting for something.
"Uh, do you want me to take that, so I can put some sugar in it?" he asked gruffly, the crease between his brows growing deeper.
I started, suddenly realizing what a fucking idiot I was as I shook out of my Grant-induced moment of complete stupidity, and held out the fucking bowl. I nearly whimpered in dismay, as he seemed to make it a point not to touch me as he carefully took the bowl from me, and slowly turned away, taking off to the kitchen.
I groaned when he was no longer in sight, closing my eyes and letting my head drop forward in shame. While I'd been fantasizing about our long, happy life together, the two, possibly three kids we'd have together––depending on how terrible pregnancy really was––and our cute little cottage house on the edge of town, with a big ol' Great Dane who smothered us with affection, and accidentally knocked our kids over when they were all playing outside… he'd been fantasizing about getting me some fucking sugar, and getting me the hell out of his house.
I was truly pathetic.
Sighing, I turned to inspect my surroundings, like I always did when he stupidly left me in his living room alone, noticing he'd rearranged the things on his bookshelf, finally making that damn picture visible I'd always been curious about, but wasn't able to see, because of the challenges in my life––I'm fucking short––and like an annoying June Bug that was just trying to live his life, but was actually terrifying people and making them cringe away from my sticky legs, I headed toward the light, and probably got stuck in Grant's hair as I hovered near his things, while he came out with that sugar.
"Is this your family?" I asked in awe as I took in the ten men and a baby standing in the normal, slightly awkward family pose. The two older men––one alpha, one omega––stood front and center while eight others––definitely alpha––stood around them, touching their shoulders. The baby was turned around backward on the hip of one of the men out to the side, sucking on his fist.
It was actually a bit ridiculous as photos went, but somehow seemed kinda quirky.
Grant grunted, and I glanced at him, fighting back a smile.
Was that a yes?
"You have a beautiful… and giant family." And I meant that in the way that the numbers were definitely up there, and that they would weigh a hell of a lot if someone put them on a scale.
Grant and some blond guy with a shy smile were by far the largest of the group, but the poor omega in the front looked dwarfed completely by the men standing around him.
"That's not even all of them. These four have omegas now," he said, pointing to the big blond in back, a darker-skinned man, who looked to be of Latin origins, a black man who looked like a mixture of the older couple in the middle, and the man holding the baby. "And Ricki just turned two in May. I hadn't mentioned it yet, but I also think Riley, Cole's boyfriend––" He once again pointed at the black man who looked like the older couple. "––is pregnant. He doesn’t drink, and he occasionally touches his stomach all sweetly."