Page 22 of Omega's Midlife Love
Chapter 9 - David
Itrudged through the door and dropped my keys into the bowl on the entry table.
Terror, stress, relief, and hard work over the past several days had combined and left me bone-tired. I wanted to collapse onto my bed and sleep for a week.
I also wanted to drive to Mr. Beischel’s house and talk to my alpha.
His absence over the past few days felt as if I was missing a part of myself. I’d grown so used to being able to talk with him about almost anything. Normally I’d be able to talk to my sweet Samantha about whatever was on my mind, but I couldn’t further burden her with my worries about her mate and their baby.
So I’d held it in while desperately wanting to talk to somebody about how scared and stressed I was.
The good news was that Eddie and the baby were going to be fine. He’d have to be on bedrest for the remainder of his pregnancy, but I knew my Sam would take great care of him. And with his mama there as well, I knew that it was time for me to step back.
I flicked on the sad little overhead light in the living room, missing the welcoming lighting of Mr. Beischel’s house.
If I closed my eyes I could still imagine the warmth of being in his arms. He’d held me when I needed it most, supporting me when I just wanted to collapse in fear. I had to be strong for Samantha, but Mr. Beischel had been strong for me when I had needed a moment to be weak.
I had to see him, be near him. Even if I only went in to do inventory, maybe I could spend a few minutes talking to him. The thought of another day apart made my chest ache with longing.
A small part of me insisted that it was a problem. At the end of the day he was my boss, and I was an employee. Relying on him for emotional support was something that he hadn’t signed up for. I was there to cook, nothing more.
But I thought of the weeks of quiet conversation, when we’d take a few minutes at lunch to talk, or when he’d stride into the kitchen and sit on a stool to watch me work. I’d not been a private chef except for a few temp gigs before he’d hired me, but somehow I knew that most arrangements would be far more professional.
What we had was special.
I shuffled over and dropped onto my couch, then leaned back and draped my arm over my eyes. I could only imagine how much more exhausted I would have been if Mr. Beischel hadn’t arranged for me to fly on his plane. Hours crammed in coach while flying across the country would have wrung any remaining energy from me.
I had to look on the bright side though. I’d been able to be there for my girl when she needed me, and in a few months I’d be able to hold my grandbaby. That was what mattered.
I could deal with the stress and exhaustion if it meant those happy times ahead.
My stomach growled, reminding me that the last time I’d eaten was easily six hours before, if not more, and for once I had no energy to cook.
I grabbed my cell phone and started looking through the local delivery options. I quickly decided on a couple favorite dishes from the Chinese restaurant down the street and placed my order. It was too much for one night, but it was easier than trying to narrow the options. I’d just plate up a bit of everything, then have leftovers the next night.
I’d almost fallen asleep on the couch while waiting for my food, when there was a knock at the door.
“Be right there,” I called, pulling my wallet from my pocket to verify the card I’d used when placing the order.
I opened the door, but instead of some harried delivery driver, I saw Mr. Beischel standing there.
Relief seemed to flood his face, then he pulled me into his arms.
I stood there, too shocked to move. “Mr. Beischel?”
“No,” he murmured, burying his face against my shoulder. “Please. Call me Alan.”
I blinked, trying to process the words. “Are you sure Mr…” He tensed. “Alan?”
He shuddered, as if the mere sound of his name from my lips brought him pleasure.
“Again,” he whispered.
“Alan…”
His arms tightened around me, and I looked up into his eyes. There was desire and longing there, as if I was everything he’d ever wanted.
“Again…”
