Page 38 of His Sassy Omega
“And your mom? Is she a financial planner also?”
Quinn snorted. “My mom’s a flake. I love her, but she’s a flake.”
I couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped my mouth at his tone, full of annoyance and an overwhelming amount of love.
“My mom is an artist. They met in college. Dad says he saw her across the quad and was done for. They both believe in that fated mates bullshit. They are so opposite, I can’t even wrap my head around how they have managed to make it work between them. She does great abstract paintings, and wonderful sculptures. She just would forget to feed us sometimes.”
“Dad is shit in the kitchen, and I finally got tired of being hungry. Mom was working on a piece, dad was at the office, and I was tired of ramen. Which was about the only thing I could make by myself at the time. I think I was about ten. I started with scrambled eggs, and went from there. Baking, though, has been my passion since the first time I made a batch of cupcakes. It's usually my stress reliever, except lately.”
I grinned. “Well, I for one need to thank your parents for you turning into the incredible baker you are. My waistline doesn’t thank you, but my sweet tooth adores you.”
He gave me another hot, assessing look, and my cock grew harder. “Your waistline looks fine from here.”
“I run,” I told him huskily, my gaze turning just as hot as his. “A lot.”
Quinn’s line of sight moved over my shoulder, and his whole body tensed. “Fuck me.”
I blinked, then tossed my napkin down. “I’ll get the check.” My dick and I were ready to finish dessert anywhere else.
He shook his head, giving me a ‘what the fuck are you talking about’ look. “Lachlan, I’m truly sorry for what is about to happen.”
Just then, I noticed two people in my peripheral vision, and I turned. My eyes landed on an alpha a few years younger than myself, his arm around the waist of a waifish, but heavily pregnant omega. The omega was beautiful, in an ethereal, fragile way, very short and petite. The alpha was good looking, but his belly was starting to show some roundness.
“Quinn, I couldn’t believe it was you when I looked over. I thought surely that is not Quinn Rafferty in such an establishment.”
The words were said nicely enough, but held a haughty tone I didn’t appreciate. I instantly took a dislike to him. His words, while said sweetly, were full of venom, and my shoulders tensed. I heard the dig aimed at Quinn. How dare this alpha insult my omega, with me sitting right next to him. I was too big for him to miss, so he was doing it deliberately, and that pissed me off.
Quinn rolled his eyes so hard I’m surprised he didn’t give himself a headache. “It’s a restaurant, Leo, not the Vatican. Don’t be so bitchy.”
“Isn’t it past your bedtime?” he sneered, and the omega on his arm just looked bored. Maybe that was just his face. It was hard to tell.
“It’s Saturday, I don’t turn into a pumpkin until after midnight. Who’s your friend?”
“This is my fiancée, Justin.” The alpha – Leo – turned to me, holding out his hand. “Leo White, and you…oh, you’re Lachlan Sinclair!”
I nodded, standing just because I wanted the pleasure of towering over him, and grasped his hand in mine. If I squeezed a little harder than necessary, I wasn’t sorry, even when he grimaced in pain. I looked down at him, because while he wasn’t short, he didn’t come close to my height. In fact, I was pretty sure Quinn towered over him by several inches. “I am.”
Quinn had narrowed his eyes, and he was staring at the omega hard – Justin – no, he was staring at the man’s pregnant belly.
“How far along are you?” There was something in that narrowed gaze, that hard tone in his voice, he was trying to work out. I could see the gears of his brain whirling.
“It doesn’t matter.” Leo rushed, at the same time Justin said, “Six and a half months.”
Quinn smirked, nodding his head. “Of course, you are. You’re such a dick, Leo.”
“Quinn,” I said quietly, “What’s going on?”
Quinn wrinkled his nose, like he smelled something bad, and laughed a little bit, the sound high pitched and without merriment.
“This is Leo, my ex. My ex, who tried to sell my bakery without my knowledge, so we could get married and have babies. That was four months ago. Four.” He held up four fingers to make his point, ticking them off one by one. “But Justin here is six and a half months pregnant, damn near ready to pop. The math is just not working for me on this Leo. Care to explain?”
Leo’s voice dropped, and was hard. “I don’t need to explain anything to you. You left me, remember?”
“You tried to sell my business out from under me, dickhead. So we could do something I had no interest in doing. Especially with you. Something you were apparently already doing with someone else.”
I sat back down, and reached for Quinn’s hand, enfolding it in my larger one. I could feel his fingers trembling, and I had a good idea that it was from rage and not fear.
“That would have been a shame.” I glanced at Leo, giving him what was referred to as the Sinclair frown. People usually knew to shut their mouths when that frown graced my face, or run in the opposite direction. “I would die without Quinn’s baked goods. His coffee is almost orgasmic. I can’t start my day without it. Can I, babe?” I placed a small kiss on the palm of his hand.
