Roses for His Omega

by Lorelei M. Hart

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Epilogue

  About the Authors

  Other titles by Lorelei M. Hart and Ophelia Heart

  Roses for His Omega

  By

  Lorelei M. Hart and Ophelia Heart

  Copyright

  The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of a copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by fines and federal imprisonment.

  Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in, or encourage, the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Roses for His Omega Copyright 2018 Lorelei M. Hart and Ophelia Hart

  Editor Wizards in Publishing

  Cover design by Fantasia Frog Designs

  Published by Wizards in Publishing

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Epilogue

  About the Authors

  Other titles by Lorelei M. Hart and Ophelia Heart

  Roses for His Omega

  Attending a Valentine’s Day wedding solo, when your “plus one” just dumped you, is about at romantic as a visit to the dentist

  Reid hesitates to accept the invitation to his college roommate—and onetime lover’s midweek wedding, but at least he has an enviable date in hotshot lawyer, Topher. Until, after Reid’s bought their plane tickets and made all the plans, Topher dumps him. Rather than stay home and mope, he chooses the possible lesser evil and heads for Mapleville. He’ll deal with his misery and the snowball of ways his life is falling apart when he gets home. One thing for sure, he’s not going to make important decisions based on the vagaries of an unreliable love life. Maybe the good things of life are just not meant for him.

  Kayson lives a good life, by most accounts. He works with his aunt at her local florist shop creating beautiful arrangements and spreading sunshine through botanicals. He lives in a town he adores. He has the finances to live peacefully without financial stress. Only problem is, he is lonely. He longs for a mate, someone to spend his life with, raise a family with and in small town Mapleville, there just wasn’t anyone who fit the bill.

  When Knox and his future bride, Celeste, hired Vivian’s Roses to do their wedding flowers, it appeared to be just a typical gig and then bridezilla came out. Between switching orders and outbursts there was nothing more he wanted than to have the wedding be over and done with. Until a coffee shop encounter with Reid turned his world on its axis. Instant chemistry and a connection like none he’d experienced before had him wanting time to slow giving him the opportunity to convince Reid to stay in Mapleville and be his omega, his mate.

  Roses for His Omega is a Valentine’s novella filled with enough sweetness to cause cavities, a touch of knotty heat, and enough love to go around.

  Chapter One

  Reid

  Who gets married on Valentine’s Day? A midweek Valentine’s day, at that. Knox, that’s who. And, of course, who’s the sucker who agreed to go, even though we hadn’t even seen each other in over five years? Me.

  I climbed into my rental car, knowing I had a much longer ride ahead than I would’ve liked. When I booked the flight and the car, I’d planned on having my then alpha join me. Of course, he decided last minute to dump my ass, leaving me with the cost of his flight added to my poor spending choices already piling up, thanks to the trip.

  I blared the music and cracked the windows to keep myself alert and headed down the highway toward what was going to most assuredly be a craptastic week in the middle of nowhere. It was for Knox, though, and while we might not have made it as a couple, he was a good guy.

  Knox, my college-roomie-turned-first-lover, was one of those guys everyone liked. He could walk into a room and hold a conversation with you about anything, and that put people at ease. We had not much in common, and when he went back to his hometown of Mapleville, he was able to snag the one that got away, his Celeste.

  His Celeste as opposed to Celeste because, in his heart, she was always meant for him, and while they broke up as they went to schools on opposite coasts, they were never over, not in their hearts.

  I never blamed Knox for leading me on or being his rebound, because even then we knew it was only a friends, two horny friends, in a with-benefits arrangement. When he called to invite me to his wedding, I said yes without a second thought. That was where I made my mistake, and probably how I ended up alone—again.

  Topher was sure it was some scheme to get him to propose to me because, of course, being a big-shot lawyer meant all omegas wanted to wear his ring and carry his baby. Sure, I enjoyed our time together, enough that I considered moving in with him, but marriage—not so much. He was hot and brilliant in his field and well-to-do, sure, but he was also self-absorbed and pretentious, two things I didn’t long for in the father of my hypothetical maybe-someday babies.

  Our fight ended with him calling me a gold digger because, of course, that’s what it meant to want to go to a college friend’s wedding and buying your then alpha a plane ticket. Gold diggers were all about spending their savings on someone who didn’t appreciate them.

  I shook my head to get my thoughts as far away from Topher as I could. I didn’t need that in my life, especially not when I was about to go see an old friend and had to slap on my life-is-good face.

  According to my GPS, I was going to be there around lunch, which was better than I’d expected. If things worked out, I’d be able to get settled into my hotel and grab dinner before it was too late. The next night included a rehearsal dinner, but until then I was on my own, which was good since I had a project only halfway finished that was due within the week and after spending a good chunk of my savings on the trip, I was counting on that money.

  The roads were clear as I drove toward my destination. Given the time of year, snow was a real possibility, and I’d gotten used to living in the land of warmth and sunshine, so my snow driving was very m
uch out of practice.

  I pulled into a gas station just outside of Mapleville to fill my tank and grab a sandwich and some snacks for the hotel room. I didn’t know much about Mapleville, but my google searches didn’t indicate a ton of places to eat there, so snacks sounded about right.

  I pulled my far-too-thin jacket closed as I climbed out of the car and jogged to the gas station. Inside, I was able to grab far more than I needed, quickly, and put it all on the counter.

  “Anything else?” the woman behind the counter asked, a smile on her face.

  “Naw, I think my waistline says I’ve got enough.” Looking down at the counter, my waistline was more likely sobbing at its soon-to-be disappearance.

  “These are BOGO.” She held up the bag of my favorite pumpernickel chips, and I walked back and grabbed a second bag like a sucker.

  “Your boss should pay you more,” I teased as I added it to my pile.

  “I am my boss.” She held out her hand, and I shook it as she introduced herself. “Maria.”

  “Reid.” I nodded as she went back to ringing up the order. “And twenty-five on pump three, please.”

  She nodded as she kept ringing away. I really had picked out a ton of gummies. Some people cried in their chocolate, for me it was gummies, especially the cola bottles. Yum.

  “Moving here?” she asked, probably assuming no one needed that much food if they weren’t filling their kitchen.

  “No, just here for a wedding.” I fished out my credit card.

  “How weird is it they are having it in the middle of the week?” And that was the moment I realized Maria was my kindred spirit.

  “Right?” I scoffed before leaning in conspiratorially. “That’s what I thought, too, but romance I guess.”

  “Well if you are going to a wedding, and you are alone, you might want one of these, too.” She pointed to the small rack of those bottles like you get on the airlines.

  “I’m good, but you’re probably not wrong, and I’ll be kicking myself later.”

  She popped one inside anyway without ringing it up. It was official. Maria was going to be my favorite person in town, or town adjacent as it were. “Is the town that small, or did I luck out and find the one business owned by Knox’s friend?”

  “It’s that small.” She finished bagging things up, blushing slightly as the soda delivery guy came in and went straight to his work. That’s how it was. Good on her. “You’ll like it, though.” She pulled me back to the conversation at hand. “I’m looking in my crystal ball and seeing an omega who wants to stay after finding his true love at his friend’s wedding.”

  Not that I was in the market for a long-distance relationship, but what a fanciful notion.

  “You a medium or psychic or whatever it’s called?”

  “None of the above. It’s the plot for the new Sam Johansen movie.” She pointed to the magazine rack. Half of them were filled with news of the country’s hottest new movie, and I full-on belly laughed.

  “Oh, he’s hot,” I said when I finally contained my over over-the-top response to her antics. “I may need to watch that.”

  “It will be playing at our Mapleville Cinemas in about three months.” She held up her fingers as if to accentuate her point.

  “But it was just released.” Or had been out a while if the magazines were old.

  “Exactly.” She smiled and winked. So, it was one of those small towns with a second tier theater, but one that was probably packed every Friday and Saturday night. “With the gas, you are at forty-three ninety-two.”

  I swiped my card and signed the screen when prompted.

  “It was nice to meet you, Reid. Maybe I will see you at the wedding.”

  “I’ll be the one in the tux,” I teased as I snagged my bag.

  “I’ll be the one in the dress,” she bantered back, just as the soda guy made his way to her register, smiling Hmm, maybe the interest went both ways.

  As I headed out into the freaking cold, I idly wondered if she would be attending the wedding alone. Winter, it turned out, was still not my favorite season.

  Chapter Two

  Kayson

  If she changed her mind one time, I would have to wring her neck. The bride’s name shouldn’t be Celeste, it should be CeMore. More roses—more baby’s breath. She said the word spray more than a Mr. Clean commercial.

  The only plusses to this arrangement were that it would be over soon, and I was making a killing off her persnickety attitude.

  Then again, Celeste did have impeccable taste. Even Aunt Vivian said so, which was a compliment in and of itself. Aunt Vivian didn’t approve of anyone or anything.

  “She changed her mind again?” my red-haired aunt said, sitting down on the stool at my workstation, which was nothing more than a tool workbench with all my clippers and wire cutters hung just the way I liked them. My aunt’s floral shop was a modest place with a certain small-town-meets-hipster charm. It allowed me creative flexibility while doing what I loved, what Aunt Viv taught me to love right alongside her—gardening. Our favorite projects were the pitiful ones: the flowers and plants that had been dejected, ignored, and neglected. We loved to take them in and nurse them back to health. There was nothing more satisfying than saving a living thing.

  “Yes. I told her this was the last time. If she picks another color, it’s too late for me to get any of these roses. And I think I’ve bought all the baby’s breath in the entire metro area. She’s trying to hint at something there.”

  Aunt Vivian shrugged and set her tea down. “Nothing wrong with a little hint. Like, oh, I don’t know, buying a cradle at this fabulous antique store when you don’t have a baby to put in it and your nephew is dragging his feet finding an omega.”

  “You didn’t.” I stopped shoving baby’s breath in every crevice of the arrangement to shoot her the best stink eye I was capable of, which, if I do say so myself, was vicious.

  “I’m not admitting anything. You know how I love Bethesda. They have so many treasures just waiting for me to spend your uncle’s insurance money on.”

  She didn’t kill my uncle or anything. If there existed such a thing as love at first sight, my aunt and uncle invented it. They met when she was just sixteen, and he waited until she turned eighteen to ask her to marry him. He took care of her as though she was the heir to the throne of Mapleville. When he died, she learned he’d intended to take care of her all of her life, even if he was gone. She received over ten million dollars in insurance money, property, and investments that grew no matter how much she spent.

  I doubted she even made a profit from this florist business, but Aunt Vivian was skilled in two areas: shopping and gardening. She’d never give up on this place—or me.

  “Where is it?” I asked, looking back at the order, pretending not to care if she bought a cradle or not. Fantasizing about a child seemed ridiculous, considering there was no omega in town my type or not taken. The problem wasn’t the town, it was me. Too picky, some would say. I said, just picky enough.

  “As with all things antique, it needed some TLC. I dropped it off at Woody’s. It should be done soon, then…” She sighed dramatically. “It will go in the attic, I suppose.”

  “You’re really bad at subtlety. Has anyone ever told you that?” I sighed, waiting on the clock to strike my break time. I needed caffeine before I keeled over.

  Her soft, crepe-skinned hand folded on top of mine, and she sighed. A serious talk loomed on the horizon. I wished she would wait until I fueled up on coffee.

  She wouldn’t.

  “Kayson, my son, maybe you should venture out. This town isn’t big enough to find a lasting match—someone you can hold onto forever.” Her long, tangerine-colored handmade earrings, another one of her splurges, swung back and forth as she talked. They almost got lost in her red hair—almost.

  Mapleville wasn’t that small. It was big enough for CeMore to find her happily ever after, I thought, placing my tools back on the magnetic board. “I’m not
in a hurry for a relationship to happen, Aunt Viv. It’s not that I don’t want it, it’s just that I don’t want to rush things. I don’t want an Eric repeat.”

  Eric was my last omega. He was lots of people’s omegas all at the same time. I’d fallen for his frat boy looks and green eyes that put four-leaf clovers to shame. I’d been such a fool for that one. The man could pull off a sweater vest. That’s how fine he was. Nothing he did deterred from his charms, except sleeping with four other people—that sealed the deal. I sighed and waited. Aunt Viv would go on. There was nothing else I needed to say.

  “I want you to be open to the possibility, that’s all. An open heart is the recipient of all sorts of visitors.”

  Someone should really put her sayings on a plaque or a Hallmark card. Aunt Viv was full of them.

  “I can’t have an open heart if I’m slugging around needing coffee. There’s no energy left for love.”

  I got my dramatic streak from her.

  “You know, I think I’ve made a mistake.” Her tone changed, also the subject. My aunt’s other talent was awkward subject change. “She doesn’t have the good taste I thought she did. That’s an ungodly amount of baby’s breath. And what happened to the hints of coral roses?”

  I shrugged, wiping down my table, ready for the next spray. I still had to make all the corsages and boutonnieres. Whoever heard of fifteen groomsmen and bridesmaids around here. No one. That’s who. They even had to have the wedding outside and the reception at city hall just to house all the people she invited.

  Not quite a monster bride, but edging that way.

  “That was the mother’s last-minute call. Diane is her name. She was with Celeste the last and final time they came in to change everything. Diane said coral was tacky. I thought it made the arrangement pop.”

  Aunt Viv’s eyebrow popped up. “Maybe Diane was afraid the coral alluded to another pop that’s already happened.”

  Dirty bird. Aunt Viv always had been.