Page 19 of With A Little Luck
She pushes the door closed and nods. “A little company sounds great.”
Quincy is far too polite to press for more clarification on why I popped in with dinner.
I’m confused too.
I’ve never been so drawn to anyone.
Let alone a super-pregnant chick.
We sit on the couch, eating and watching a movie in companionable silence.
I stick close enough to her side that she’s hopefully getting a full blast of my pheromones, but from the little research I did… There’s more to it than simply having access to alpha pheromones. The thought of what else Quincy needs is so inappropriate that it sends a pulse straight to my knot.
I choke on the bite of fries I’m trying to swallow and grab my soda from the coffee table.
“Are you okay?” she asks, tilting her head to study my face.
“All good.” I paste on a playful smile. “How about you? You went after that marinara sauce with a vengeance.”
Seriously, she wasn’t above scooping the last of it out with a few fries she stole from my box once the mozzarella sticks were no more.
It was kinda sexy.
I almost thought she might lick the container, and just like the creep I am, I wouldn’t have been able to tear my eyes away.
She laughs. “Yeah, I’ve been craving spaghetti with meat sauce for the last week or so. It’s so weird. I don’t normally even like tomatoes.”
“The nugget must be responsible for that craving then,” I say, bumping my shoulder against hers.
“Maybe,” she says around a yawn. “Be right back. I need the restroom.”
She struggles to get up, and I grab her take-out container, drop it onto the coffee table, and push to my feet.
Once I’m standing, I offer her my hands.
“Thanks.”
I pull her up and step out of the way to avoid jostling the baby bump. The urge to run my hand over her stomach is strong, but it’s also inappropriate as fuck.
When did I become such a pushy bastard?
I stay standing during Quincy’s trip to the bathroom, meandering around the room and checking out the decor. Sheinherited the place from her grandmother, and it’s obvious she hasn’t had time to put her own spin on it.
The sound of her shuffling back into the room fills the air, and I wonder if it’s time I see myself out.
It’ll be better if I offer to leave before she starts politely dropping hints that it’s time for me to go, but everything in me wants to stick around and spend a little more time together.
I just don’t know how to break the ice to let her know I’m here and willing to help out with the whole pheromone thing.
The doorbell echoes around the room, and Quincy jolts.
“I haven’t had a visitor since I’ve been here.” She laughs. “Two in one night, what are the odds? Give me just a second.”
I frown as she spins around and exits the room, heading to answer the door. Maybe I’m paranoid, but I don’t like it. It’s almost nine, and she’s not expecting anyone.
An unbonded omega should never just answer the door when they have no idea who could be on the other side.
I ignore the fact I’m a hypocrite for showing up in the same way as whoever won’t stop ringing the doorbell.
