Page 16 of Bonded By Christmas
If nothing else, I learned the importance of verifying someone’s age before following my nose to their throat.
The memory of that nightmare replays in my mind, and I grimace. Not that I’ve had to worry about verifying any ages. Since that night, my system hasn’t shown interest in a single person. It’s made it easy to stay celibate, but I’ve also spent the last three years focused on building my empire and solidifying my position as the head of my family.
I’m finally at a place where I feel confident I’ll be able to protect Lacey from my lifestyle, and my patience at waiting has run out.
My fathers are living up their second chance at love in a completely different state and celebrating their anniversary withthings like a world cruise. That means they don’t get to have an opinion on my relationship with their stepdaughter. Not unless it’s clapping me on the back and sayingcongratulations.
Chapter Seven
Lacey
My day is off from the time I wake up to find Callum missing. Granted, I shouldn’t be surprised. I vaguely remember him telling me he had to work, but it was still jarring.
I spend the day running errands and barely make it into the clinic five minutes before my shift. This leads to a very frantic version of myself as I change into my work clothes and toss my hair up into a bun.
I was planning on braiding it to hopefully help avoid needing to wash it in between each appointment, but I don’t have time to pull that off.
I grab my bottle of Coke and head off to get my shift started.
“You’ve got a brand-new client,” Tommy says as I make it into the hallway with the treatment rooms. “He’s well put together. Not out of it or anything. He must be in the very early stages of the decay. He asked not to be restrained, but I told him the call was yours to make.”
I sigh, exhaling heavily.
New clients are always stressful. Though, I’m more annoyed that Tommy tried to restrain Grim after he’s been here nearly ten times, and now he’s justifying why he doesn’t think this new guy is a threat. Everything in me says it’s a bias based on Grim’ssize and the way he looks, especially considering he mentioned how this client seemswell put together.
“Okay, thanks,” I say, smiling tightly.
My anxiety has been through the roof all day, and I don’t know why.
I really should have taken five or ten minutes to meditate or even do some cleansing breaths, but I did myself no favors by getting here literally minutes before my first appointment.
Silvie always talks about the importance of centering ourselves before and after appointments. She even showed me some energy work that I could do to clear any negative attachments. At the time, I thought it was kind but unnecessary. Now I’m completely rethinking my stance on all the things I thought I knew.
Tommy nods, and I stride off toward the door to the room I always use. Technically, they aren’t assigned, but we all have our favorite room that we tend to claim so often the others just pick their own favorite. At least so far, I’ve never come in and had someone else already using my room.
I stop just outside the door and crack my soda, taking a swig as I step inside. It’s second nature to slap the button to indicate the session has started, and I bring that hand up to screw the cap back on the bottle of Coke as I choke…
Holy shit.
“Wilder?” I sputter, trying not to die.
“Little sister, looking good as always.” My stepbrother’s dark blue eyes sparkle as his lips turn up at the edges.
“What are you doing here?” I squeak, closing the door behind me. “Oh, God. Is there an emergency with my mom? Are your dads okay? Why didn’t anyone call me?”
“Everyone is fine,” he says in his low, gravelly tone. He shrugs a strong shoulder. “Except me, apparently, but that’s why I’m here. I’ve heard you can fix me right up.”
“What?” My head tilts.
Is he saying what I think he’s saying? Even if he is, there’s no reason he should see me.
Wilder’s long fingers move through the buttons on his suit coat, and the sides pop open. He reaches into the interior pocket and pulls out several sheets of tri-folded paper. “I’m teetering on the edge of going feral. My lab work wasn’t great, and according to my doctor, I need to soak up as many omega pheromones as possible.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I say, striding over and dropping my soda on the small end table. “The good thing is, it’s treatable. Do you have any characteristics in mind that you’d like in an omega? I know most of my coworkers, at least the ones who work the same shifts I do. I can take you up front to sniff the scent cards so you can choose who you’d like to be paired with.”
I’m a little—okay, a lot—confused why he didn’t do that to begin with, but maybe he was nervous and wanted a familiar face to walk him through the process?
It’s hard to imagine Wilder Pierce being nervous about anything. The man is confidence personified. He’s decisive and doesn’t mince words.
