Taming the Alpha

by Mandy M. Roth

  Didn’t matter. Couldn’t have been that important.

  Chapter Five

  Saturday

  “What?” Jennifer asked through the phone.

  “I’m not kidding,” I said as I stirred the brownie mix. “He wants me to go to a family barbecue this afternoon. And I’m baking.”

  “Holy shit. You’re baking?”

  “He told me his sister said to bring a dessert. He said he’d pick up a cake at the grocery store, but you know how I feel about that.”

  My one domestic trait was that I liked to bake. Probably why I hadn’t been anything smaller than a size fourteen for the last twelve years. I grabbed the peanut butter chips and dumped them in the mix.

  “Seems like an awful fast move for a guy you just bumped pelvises with,” Jennifer said. “Taking you to meet his family?”

  “Guys are weird. I think it had more to do with keeping his family from nagging him about not dating than anything.”

  “Sure it did,” Jennifer said. “I think you just rocked his world, and he can’t live without you.”

  I snorted. Because I knew I didn’t rock his anything. He’d sounded outright desperate on the phone.

  So why in the world was I going to all this effort?

  “He was a pretty good kisser,” I said.

  “Wait, what?”

  “He’s a good kisser,” I repeated.

  “But you slept with him. That’s what you said…” Jennifer said, annunciating the last few words.

  Shit. I had told them that I scored. Even made up a few juicy details to illustrate the story.

  “I did. He just really likes to kiss.” I started pouring out the batter into the cupcake pan.

  “Oh. I thought…” Jennifer’s voice trailed off and her phone cut out. “Oh crap, I gotta go. Work.”

  “Bye.” When the phone clicked off, I sighed. “Glad that’s over, I almost got caught…” I muttered to myself as I ran my finger around the edge of the batter bowl, resisting the urge to lick it clean, and savored my one nibble of the batter.

  Maybe that’s why I liked baking so much--the batters were so good. It didn’t take the brownie-cupcakes long to bake, and I took that short time to read a little while I waited. Sure, I could have done something productive, but I would have gotten distracted, and then I would have burnt them. So I read a bit of a romance novel about fairy godmothers who take on men because they think it’ll be easier.

  Ha.

  Men are never easy.

  I could have told them that.

  After the brownies were out of the oven, I started working on me. I tried not to think about how weird this was. Because it was a little. Granted, Chris was really cute--and I had gotten his last name.

  Last name…

  “Google!” I said as I darted for my tablet. I put his full name, Chris Davenport, in the search engine, and poof, there he was.

  “Shoot, he wasn’t kidding when he said he mowed lawns.” He did. And did pools and landscaping too. He owned Velvet Touch Landscaping.

  “Well, shit, no wonder he can own that big truck.”

  So my financial analyst kicked in, and I started looking up the company. Glowing reviews, beautiful work, and even contest winners for their landscaping services.

  “They do landscaping competitions?” Will wonders never cease?

  I even checked out their social media pages, liking and following and all that jazz. However, I noticed when I scanned the company’s posts that there were very few in the last six months.

  Huh.

  Strange.

  I would have messed around more, but I saw the clock, and knew I had to get myself together. Informal or not, I’m not about to meet anyone’s family for the first time without makeup on or my hair at least somewhat nice.

  I’d just finished flat-ironing my hair when the doorbell rang.

  “Wow, great timing.” I darted to the door and yanked it open.

  “Well, hi,” I said, smiling.

  And then I looked at Chris. Again, when it came to his choices in clothes, I wondered how he picked this stuff out. Blue button-up, navy blue vest--who wears a vest nowadays?--and jeans. But it worked.

  Damn man.

  I could never throw anything together like that. I had changed four times deciding what to wear. I hadn’t wanted to look too casual, but not too formal either.

  “Hi.” He smiled, and those blue eyes, hidden under his black glasses, sparkled as he gave my ensemble the once-over.

  “Come on in.” I held the door for him. “I just have to grab the dessert and I’ll be ready.”

  He nodded. “Sure.” As I walked away, I could feel his gaze roaming over me. “Is that what you’re going to wear?”

  I glanced at myself. I had on a simple gray short sleeve blouse, my long silver chain to add a little shimmer, and the best looking pair of skinny jeans I had. They even had silver sparkles on the butt.

  I thought I looked quite cute. “Is there a problem?”

  “Just wanted to know.”

  I brushed my bangs out of my eyes. “I look fine. If that’s not good enough for you, then turn around. There’s the door.” I put my hand on my hip, not liking his sudden judgmental attitude. If this was how he treated women, then he could just go find himself another fake date.

  I took a few steps back to the door and yanked it open.

  He came closer, a strange look on his face. “I think you look great.”

  I raised my eyebrow. “Then why the critical attitude about my wardrobe?”

  “I wanted to see what you’d do.”

  “Well, you managed to piss me off.”

  “Good.” He moved in closer.

  “You want me pissed?”

  “Yes.” He stepped right into my personal space.

  I still had my hand on the door. “Trust me, you won’t like me when I’m pissed.”

  He put his hand on my arm, and damn my girly parts for noticing. “I don’t plan on pissing you off again today.”

  I didn’t know what his game was, but something about this was royally screwed up. “And I should still go with you why?”

  “Please?” he asked, his blue eyes digging into me as his hand stroked my bare arm.

  Damn it, there was a sincerity in those eyes. And a part of me was really curious about him--was he just another good looking asshole, or was there something else at work here?

  “Well, I have nothing better to do. And I baked.” I pulled out of his touch. Not that I didn’t like his touch, but it felt a bit too much, all things considered.

  He sighed and relief passed over his features. “Thank you. I owe you.”

  “Think this will make us even.”

  “Yeah. Even.”

  Chapter Six

  “You, sir, are an asshole,” Brenda said as she punched Chris on the arm.

  “What the hell did I do?” He rubbed the spot. Not that she hurt him¸ but still…

  “You did that damn test of yours, didn’t you?” Brenda glared at him.

  He blinked. “Test?”

  She narrowed her gaze. “Don’t give me that. I just talked to Harper. I know what you did.”

  Busted…

  “If it makes you feel any better, she nearly threw me out,” he told his far too nosey sister.

  “Good. She should have. I would have.” Brenda sipped whatever she had in that convenience store cup she carried around. It was about gone, because the straw slurped.

  And honestly, that’s what he’d been hoping Harper would do--fight back with him. Tell him to shove it up his ass. Something other than bend to his will. She hadn’t seemed the type to bend, but he wanted to check.

  After all, she’d taken a bet pretty easily to try and hook up with a stranger.

  “Like you didn’t test out your men when you were single. You had your methods.”

  “When I was in high school,” Brenda said.

  “Funny, I seem to remember one of those things was a good job. And, surpr
ise, surprise, you’re married to a guy that brings in six figures.”

  She snorted. “Do you think he came that way? I had to make Jeff work his ass off to get to where he is now. “

  Chris rolled his eyes. Sisters tended to be over dramatic.

  “You didn’t tell Harper about my test, did you?”

  “Of course I did. And I doubt she’ll ever go out with you again.”

  He ran his hand over his face. “You are a meddling brat.”

  “You are an asshole.” She slurped noisily on the last of her drink. “Bring your date a fresh glass of wine.”

  “Why?” Chris asked.

  “She’s talking to Auntie Gladys.”

  “Poor gal,” he replied as he got a glass and filled it with white wine.

  Sure enough, Auntie Gladys had Harper in the corner of the patio outside, opposite end from where the grill and the other men were. Their conversation must have been lively, because Harper tipped her head back and laughed.

  The curve of her neck and the smile in her eyes washed a powerful longing through him. He’d never considered himself a ‘neck’ guy, but the curve of hers, how it bled into her other curves, it was a piece of art right there, breathing in front of him. He considered taking her into the yard and finding a secluded corner to kiss that lovely neck.

  And anywhere else he could think of.

  “Boy, I wondered how long it would take you to talk to me,” Auntie Gladys called to him.

  “I was helping my mother with something.” He grinned and kissed her cheek.

  The older lady waved her hand in the air, before clunking her cane on the ground. Her attention turned to Harper. “Don’t believe a word of his charm. He’s just trying to avoid me, so I won’t ask him again when he’s getting married.” She leaned toward Harper. “At least I know now he’s not batting for the other team.”

  Harper’s gaze darted to his, amusement on her face.

  “Auntie Gladys, I hardly think that was necessary.”

  She snorted. “When you’re my age, kiddo, you can say whatever the hell you want. I frequently use those seven bad words because I can. No one pays attention to a polite old lady anyway.”

  Harper jumped into the conversation. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that. You’ve been very polite to me.”

  Chris snorted. “Sure she has.”

  “She only asked me twice if we were getting married.”

  He choked.

  “Hopefully you’re not stupid enough to let this one get away.” Auntie Gladys tapped Harper in the leg with her cane. “She’s a good one, I can tell.”

  “Thank you, Miss Gladys,” Harper said.

  Gladys stood with a bit of difficulty, and he grabbed her arm, steadying her. “Now, I’m off to use the facilities.”

  “Powder your nose, eh Miss Gladys?” Harper asked.

  “I have to pee.” She headed into the house.

  Chris shook his head and glanced at Harper. The gal had tears in her eyes.

  “Are you okay?”

  She wiped them away. “She’s hilarious. Reminds me of my grandmother.”

  “She’s a pain in the butt.”

  “And she knows it,” Harper added.

  He handed her the glass of wine. “Thought you could use more.”

  “Thank you.” She took a sip as her gaze darted around the yard. Her fingers grazed a nearby shrub. “This yard is amazing. Your brother must work night and day to keep it like this.”

  He snorted. “He pays for the upkeep.”

  “Wouldn’t want to see that bill,” she replied. “It’s gorgeous out here.”

  “He gets the family discount,” he said as he put his hand on her arm.

  She glanced at him. “Nice of you to hook up your family. You own Velvet Touch Landscaping, right?”

  “Yeah. How did you know?”

  “Google.”

  The marvels of modern technology.

  “Well, if this is what you can do, your company must be doing well.” She gestured to the boulder that gurgled water, a centerpiece to the patio arrangement.

  “In some ways, yes,” he replied. “Business is growing, we’ve just hired more people. A couple of new contracts are in negotiations right now.”

  “That’s great. Sounds like you’re going to be shooting the moon soon.”

  He smirked. If only…

  “What is it?”

  He pulled away from her, and while his glanced over the yard, his thoughts were a million miles away. Back to the horrid money issues that had been plaguing him for a couple of weeks now.

  She walked him through the yard until they were out of earshot of everyone else. “What’s the matter? You got really tense when I asked about the business.”

  “Just a little hiccup right now.”

  “Anything I can do to help?”

  “Maybe. If you’ve got a money tree handy.”

  “Well, I do have one in the backyard, but it’s not producing right now. It only grows money when hell freezes over.”

  He smirked. “Ah, one of those temperamental trees.”

  “Yeah, money trees usually are.” She crossed her arms. “So really, what’s going on?”

  He ran his hand through his hair, unsure if he wanted to unload on her. Yet wasn’t part of the reason he’d wanted to ask her out because of her profession? “My partner is selling his share of the business.”

  “Oh, so it’s just going to be you at the helm? That could be fun.”

  He shook his head. “No. Not really. He’s selling to my biggest competitor if I can’t come up with the money by the end of the month.”

  Her eyes opened wide. “Why would he do that to you?”

  “His home’s going into foreclosure.”

  “What happened? You said the business was doing well?”

  He glanced at the ground, vaguely aware of the pops of color from the impatiens that bordered the flower beds in this corner of the yard.

  Before he could stop himself, he answered her. “Cancer. His wife had to have a double mastectomy, but even with their insurance, the bills were astronomical. He took out a second mortgage last year.”

  She put her hand over her mouth. “Oh my goodness, that’s horrible!”

  “I know. I can’t blame the guy. He needs the money now to get everything taken care of. I’d buy him out tomorrow if I could.”

  “So he’s selling to, who, Reese Lawn Care?”

  He nodded. She did do her homework…

  The national chain had been sniffing around Velvet Touch Landscaping for a few years, wanting to open a local branch in town. They’d put out feelers about buying the company, but Chris always turned them down, though part of that had to do with who was running the Reese regional branch. He absolutely would not work for that douche Steven Knight.

  Her gaze disappeared into the distance. “So is the split fifty-fifty, or do you have an ownership share?”

  “Fifty-fifty.”

  “Can you get together enough for an ownership share?”

  “I’ve offered that, but it’s not enough for Marty.”

  “Hmm,” she brushed her fingertip over her lips. “You know, I have a few clients that like to invest in local businesses. Let me see if any of them would be interested. Could you send me over some financial statements, so I can see where you are and what you need?”

  He blinked. “You would do that?”

  “Sure.” She gestured to the backyard. “You do good work, Chris. I’d hate to see you lose your company over this.”

  He didn’t know what to say.

  So he said the only thing he could think of.

  “Thank you.”

  Chapter Seven

  Saturday night

  Chris walked me back to my door and waited as I opened it. The barbecue was pleasant. The food, good. His family? Nice and welcoming. The aunt he’d been concerned with? Ornery but still sweet.

  Yet what remained at the forefront of my mind had nothing to do with the barbe
cue--it had to do with his company. I could only imagine what kind of stress that put a person under.

  And I was pretty sure there was more to the story. In the back of my mind, I was already going through my files and thinking about potential candidates to buy into his business. I really wanted to help him save it--to help out his partner, even. I’ve seen what medical bills can do to a family, and to a business.

  Maybe he could give me more details about the situation…

  “Did you want to come in?” I asked.

  He met my gaze. I had a pretty good idea he wasn’t thinking about his business at all. My mind flashed back to what an amazing kisser he’d been, and I realized that on a Saturday night, I didn’t need to talk about business either.

  Nope, not a bit.

  From the look on his face, I was pretty sure he didn’t want to talk at all.

  Gulp.

  “Yes,” he whispered.

  Double gulp. I pushed the door open and took a few steps away from him, if only because suddenly the air on the porch had thinned.

  Can it do that? I crossed to the security alarm and turned it off as my mind wandered back to the really gorgeous guy staring at me like I looked at chocolate two days before my period. I shouldn’t be making such a big deal about the way he looked at me, but I couldn’t help it. It was just, yeah.

  Not exactly normal.

  Not that I hadn’t had a good looking guy stare at me before--I had been pretty cute before I got married. Now I only considered myself partially cute. I wasn’t that lithe, thin gal I was back in the day.

  But him… He was something else. He took up space in my little house. Like the walls shrunk or something around him.

  I noticed that those piercing blue eyes had slipped away from me, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it.

  Instead, his attention turned to…

  “What did you do to that fern?” he asked, moving toward the now dead potted plant on my end table.

  I shrugged. “I kill everything.”

  He raised his eyebrow. “Pardon?” That steamy look he’d been giving me had disappeared.

  “I have a black thumb. I can’t keep plants alive for anything.”

  “How do you kill a fern?”