Page 10 of Jaded Alpha

I started to say no, but it had been a while since I’d had any coffee made by anyone one but me or the owner of the local diner. “You know anywhere good for coffee?”

He glanced at me over his shoulder. “Oh yes.” A grin lifted the corner of his lip that I could see. “We have the best coffee spot in the state.”

“Is there a drive-thru?” Because I did not have the energy to go in anywhere and sit down.

He nodded. “Tired, huh? No, but if you will put yourself in my hands, I will go in and order you something delicious.”

“That would be great.”

And it was. I had never been one for fancy java drinks, but in this case, I welcomed the dirty chai with espresso whipped cream that the driver brought back to me. Everyone I was used to dealing with knew my preferences so well that I didn’t have to make choices, which was probably the reason I’d let him select. Honestly, I didn’t even remember what my staff had been bringing to me. Since leaving the road, I’d been sticking to using the percolator that had been tucked way back in a cabinet in my cabin. It was likely much older than me and I loved the idea that the original inhabitants might have sat on the porch and sipped coffee looking out over the same lake I did.

But the spicy, creamy drink I had now was a delightful change, at least until we hit a bump in the road. I managed to splash the whole thing over my lap, involving a stop at the next gas station because I had enough pride not to want to wear filthy sticky clothes when I checked in to the inn.

I had anticipated arriving quite a bit earlier and if I had been visiting friend or something like that, a call would have been in order, but not for lodgings. As long as it wasn’t going to be the middle of night or something, I wasn’t too worried.

“We’re about a half hour out,” my driver announced. “I hope you’re taking in the countryside. It’s quite beautiful, Mr. Eddie.”

“I’m sorry.” I’d been living in a bubble for such a long time, and I was starting to remember the niceties, the things people did out of courtesy. My omega father would be ashamed. “I never asked your name.”

“No one does.” He signaled and changed lanes. “But it’s Art. And thank you for asking.” My driver, Art, flashed me a friendly smile in the rearview. “Franklin at the Bearclaw will make sure you see some of the good sites around, if you even manage to leave your room.” He winked, confusing me.

“Uh, yeah, I do plan to relax, but I’ve never been in this area, so a little sightseeing would be fun. Half hour out, you say?”

“A little less now. Off to the left, if you squint a little, you should be able to see the remains of the Edler Mansion. You’ve probably heard of the murders there?”

I couldn’t help but look, and squint, but all I could make out was a heap of rubble. “No…did they just happen?” After all, someone would have cleaned up, right?

“Over a hundred years ago. Whole family wiped out, and they never solved the crime. Rumor has it there’s still a demon roaming the countryside trying to pick the next victims.”

I shivered a little. “Let’s hope he or she doesn’t have the Bearclaw in his sights.”

“He. Supposedly an incubus the alpha dad had a deal with to achieve money and fame with an end date. You know, like they claim all those big stars have?”

He couldn’t know who I was, could he? “Was the alpha a star of some kind?”

“Businessman, but you get the idea.”

I forced out a laugh. “I’m sure that’s not true. And those murders, if they even happened, likely a domestic issue.”

“I dunno. People around here are pretty sure…but you know how stories build up.”

“Old omegas’ tales.”

Chapter Ten

Jamie

“Is there a place I can put my bags?” The man with an armful of bracelets and one of those expensive smart watches on his wrist barked out as though one of us was the concierge at his beck and call.

“Of course.” Franklin didn’t miss a beat. “I take it your trip wasn’t pleasant?”

The man, gorgeous with the exception of his attitude, smirked, never sparing me a glance. “That would be the understatement of my life.” His dark hair was longer on top and shaved on the sides. A typical fade cut. His button-down shirt was a bit wrinkled in the back, I noticed, as he turned. Probably from a plane trip plus the car ride from the airport. The rims of his ears were blazing red and not for the reason I would’ve liked.

He held onto two leather bags that looked like they cost more than what I made in a month. A few different-style earrings pierced his ears at odd places. One right through the middle of his ear.

“Would you like me to bring your bags to your room so you can eat?” Franklin asked. “We have a feast here.”

The alpha, from the scent of him, wafted toward me. Usually alphas smelled like the woods. Oak and cypress, along with grass and sun. Not this one. He was bourbon and cigar smoke, making me wish he’d wrap that smoky drunk scent all around me—let me drown in it.

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