Taming the Alpha

by Mandy M. Roth

  “You look good. Happy. Almost.” Knight took a seat where Harper had been sitting. “As happy as you ever look.” He looked far too smug.

  Chris didn’t smile. Resisted the urge to punch him in the face. Just because. “What do you want?”

  “Reese Lawn Care wants to buy your little company.”

  “You want to swallow my company, slap your name on it, and destroy everything I’ve worked my ass off building.”

  Knight merely shrugged. “It’s what we do. We buy companies, take them over, and make them big successes.”

  “Over my dead body,” Chris replied. Because that was the only way Knight would ever get a hold of Velvet Touch Landscaping. Steve had taken enough from him.

  Knight leaned back. “We’re not that cold-blooded, Davenport. When we buy your partner out, you’ll see I’m an asset. My company is an asset. We have so much more than your little company can offer. Hell, we might even let you continue to work for us.”

  Chris gritted his teeth.

  “I bet you’d look really nice in one of our red polo shirts and a ball cap, mowing lawns.”

  “Go screw yourself.”

  “Listen, it’s a done deal,” Knight said. “All we have to do is get Marty’s signature. You have nothing to do with this. Marty will sell us his half, and we’ll buy you out as well. It’s simple as a check.”

  “You get your kicks out of destroying small companies?” Chris asked.

  “I’m not destroying your company. I’m merely enveloping it, making it better.”

  “We’re just fine like we are.”

  “For a few more days.” Knight smiled, looking far more pompous than he should.

  The clip-clack of Harper’s shoes distracted Chris from the prick across from him. She reached the table, glanced between the two of them, and took a seat next to Chris.

  “Hi,” she said. She smiled at Knight. “I’m Harper.”

  Knight’s grin turned rather predatory. “Steven Knight. Davenport’s saving grace.”

  “Like hell,” he muttered.

  Harper put her hand on Chris’s. “Well, we’re having dinner. Is there something we can do for you?”

  “He knows what I needed.” He stood and straightened his suit jacket. “Tick tock, Davenport.”

  “Go to hell.”

  Knight made a tsk tsk noise. “When opportunity knocks, you should really open the door.”

  “But you should always look through the peep-hole first,” he countered.

  Knight smirked and walked away.

  The waiter showed up with their food in his hand, and set the plates down on the table.

  “You okay?” Harper asked as she unrolled her silverware from their cloth napkin.

  While the steak had sounded great before, he wasn’t sure he could eat it now. “Not very hungry at the moment.”

  She nodded and flagged down the waiter. Faster than he could blink, she had the check, to-go boxes, and they were getting in his truck.

  They hadn’t gotten more than a mile when she finally spoke again.

  “So who was that guy?”

  “The district manager of Reese Lawn Care. Marty told me he’d spoken to him about buying out his half of the company.”

  “But if they buy out half, they’ll want to take over operations, won’t they?” she asked.

  “Exactly. Reese makes it hard for anyone independent to work in this part of the state--they tend to undercut anyone’s bid. I worked for them before I started my company. It’s how I learned to do it. Or how not to do it.”

  She nodded. “So is this personal, between you and him?”

  “A little bit.” A little bit more than just business, that was for damn sure. A rivalry that lingered from school.

  “Your partner hasn’t actually sold, has he?”

  He shook his head. “But I’ve got just over a week to buy him out, or Knight will.”

  “We’ll figure something out, Chris. I promise.”

  He glanced at her. “I sure as hell hope so.” His cell phone rang, and he hit the button the dashboard dock to answer the call. His sister’s smiling face appear on his phone. “What?”

  “It’s Auntie Gladys.” Brenda’s voice shook. “She’s in the hospital.”

  Chris didn’t think. “I’m on my way.”

  Chapter Eleven

  I hate hospitals.

  Always have.

  No particular reason.

  Just hated them. No matter how updated or pretty they were made. They were still hospitals, where people died.

  Walking into St. Joe’s with Chris was not what I wanted to be doing on a Friday night, but I wasn’t about to object. His auntie was in the hospital.

  I carried our food bags. I didn’t know how long we’d be here, and I was hungry; I hadn’t fibbed about my breakfast and lunch today. I figured Chris would be hungry soon too, depending on how the next little bit went.

  “You could have left those in the car,” he muttered as we rode the elevator to the sixth floor.

  I shrugged. “I figured we’d be here a while.”

  He shook his head as the elevator came to a stop. We wound our way through the hallways until we heard Auntie Gladys letting the world know exactly what she thought about the hospital food.

  “You expect me to eat this crap?” the woman yelled as we entered her room.

  “Little less vinegar in your diet might be beneficial,” Chris said to her.

  “Pbbst… I am over eighty, I should be able to eat whatever--what’s in those bags?” She sniffed the air.

  “Our dinner,” he told her as he approached the bed. He kissed her cheek. “What happened?”

  “Nothing to warrant all of this,” Gladys gestured in the air. “I just stumbled. That’s all.”

  That’s when I realized she wasn’t flat in the bed, but up on a hip. “You hurt your hip?”

  “It’s bruised. You can’t tell these doctors anything though. They think I had a stroke or a heart attack or a blood pressure thing or some such. I’m fine. I feel fine. I just stumbled because that throw rug got turned in the hallway.”

  She growled at Brenda. “I’ve been poked, prodded, x-rayed, scanned, and God knows what else to determine if I’m alive.”

  I couldn’t help it, I snorted.

  She pointed at me. “Exactly my point.”

  Brenda tried to intervene. “They wanted to make sure it really was just a little accident, and not vertigo or something. So they’re checking all the vitals, though so far, none of the tests have come back.”

  “Blood sugar?” Chris asked.

  “My sugar is just fine, boy,” Gladys huffed on the bed.

  He kept looking at Brenda. “So far it’s fine.”

  “Because they won’t give me any real food,” Gladys sniffed the air. “I think I need whatever that is in your bag.”

  I stepped back, half-expecting her to leap out and steal the food.

  “I’ll ask the doctor if you can have any,” Chris said.

  “I’ll go with you,” Brenda said.

  I glanced around, realizing I was suddenly alone with Gladys.

  “Abandoned you,” she said with a snort. “They’re plotting to put me in a home, I tell you.”

  I sat the food down, far away from her. “Oh, I doubt that,” I said as I took the now vacant seat next to her bed. “What happened?”

  She sighed. “Caught my toe under that damn throw rug that Linda bought me two years ago for Christmas. Fell into the wall.” She held up her arm, and I could see the bruise that marred her skin.

  “Oh my,” I said, shocked by how severe the bruise was.

  “When you’re old, you bruise easy. It looks worse than it is.” She harrumphed and covered her arm up.

  “So when are you going home?” I asked.

  “The sooner the better. I hate hospitals.”

  I nodded. “Me too.”

  She raised her eyebrow. “I hate them because I’m old, and they’ll likely be the
last place I am before I die. So I avoid them. Why do you hate them?”

  I shivered. “Don’t really know. Just don’t like the feel of the death in them. There’s no happiness.”

  “It’s a hospital. Not supposed to be happy here.”

  “Well, there’s the nursery, where the babies are born.”

  “Ah yes, where women scream in agony and are ripped apart trying to push a watermelon through a lemon-sized door. Yes, joyful.”

  I couldn’t help laughing.

  She grinned, a glint in her eyes. The fall obviously hadn’t hurt her ornery streak.

  Voices--Chris and Brenda’s--outside gave me pause “She needs to be in a home.”

  “Now stop that,” Brenda said.

  “She’s gonna kill herself, and we’ll only find her because of the smell.”

  Gladys rolled her eyes. “He’s got a bug up his ass today.”

  I smirked. “He’s worried.”

  “Nothing about me to worry about. I’m fine.”

  “Not just you,” I said as I brushed an errant strand out of my face. “His company is in trouble. His partner’s going to sell out to that national lawn company, Reese Lawn Care, if Chris can’t come up with the money to buy him out.”

  Gladys snorted. “I never liked his partner. Marty. Heh. More like a Martian…”

  “That’s not nice, Miss Gladys,” I said. “His wife has been sick.”

  She blinked. “Oh. I hadn’t heard.”

  “Why would you?” I asked. “Chris is pretty stressed. We’re trying to find an investor to front the cash for the company so he can own it all.”

  She asked about the particulars, and I told her the details. When I was done, she shook her head. “That’s a lot of money.”

  “I know. I thought I had a line on a few potentials, but they’ve fallen short.”

  “You’ll figure it out,” she said. She gestured to the hallway. “You like my great-nephew?”

  I nodded. “He’s a bit of an asshole, but I do like him.”

  “He takes after me,” she said, rather proudly.

  I laughed. “I think he can be really nice when he wants to be.”

  “That’s the ticket, girl. When he wants to be.”

  Chapter Twelve

  After two hours waiting and eventually talking with doctors who confirmed that Auntie Gladys wasn’t sick, dying, having a heart attack, or any other horrible thing, Chris went ahead and left with Harper.

  Auntie Gladys may have been a pain in his backside, but she was also the closest thing he had left to a grandparent, and he wasn’t ready to let go of that generation of the family yet.

  Weary to the bone, all he wanted to do was crash. Harper didn’t seem horny either--she yawned four times in the short drive to her house.

  Hospitals did kill the randy in a person.

  When they pulled up, Chris walked her to the door and waited while she unlocked it. Not that her neighborhood was one of those that had a high crime rate, but still, he wanted at the very least to make sure she was safe.

  A goodnight kiss was a bonus.

  “Do you want to come in?”

  He sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “Yeah. But I also am so tired…”

  “Me too,” she said. “Why don’t you just crash here?”

  “I…”

  “Really, I don’t want you to drive home and wreck because you’re so tired.”

  “How kind of you.”

  She shrugged. “I do what I can.” She pushed the door open and with the key fob deactivated her alarm system as they walked in. “I’ll put these leftovers in the fridge.”

  “Is there anything left?” They’d let Gladys have some of their dinner, and she had scarfed down the food like she hadn’t eaten in a week.

  “There’s some,” Harper said as she came back out. She kicked off her red heels in the kitchen doorway. “Ahh…. That feels good.”

  “Sore feet?”

  She nodded as she sat on the couch, resting her feet on the coffee table. He could see the marks where the shoes must have pinched her all night.

  “Sorry.” He took a seat on the opposite end, pretty sure she wore those for his benefit.

  She rubbed her feet and flexed her toes. “It happens. Not your fault. Part of that whole girl thing.”

  He reached across the coffee table. “Here.” He didn’t give her much choice as he tugged her feet toward him.

  “What are you doing?” She swung sideways, her legs stiff as he pulled her feet into his lap.

  He started to rub her feet. Her whole body seemed to turn to jelly with every stroke.

  “Oh my…” she groaned. “You should put this on your resume. You seriously got some skills.”

  He smirked. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He worked his hand up her ankle, over her calf, and back down again. Her skin was soft and smooth, different from his calloused hands. He rubbed along her calf, getting very closer to her knee.

  She rocked under his touch. “Oh wow. You really do have a knack for this. Did you take a class or something?”

  “No. Just…”

  She raised her eyebrow. “You like doing it?” She licked her lips as she spoke.

  “We guys need excuses sometimes to put our hands on you all.”

  “You need an excuse to touch me?”

  His hand ran up her shin. “Do I?”

  “Depends on what you want to do.”

  “Why?”

  “Because,” she squirmed a little, and her demeanor changed, like she was suddenly shy. “I talk a big game, but I always wind up wimping out in the end.”

  “Oh really?” His hands slid up her leg, to just over her knee. “So all that in the restaurant was a tease? You wouldn’t have done anything about it?”

  She twisted and put her knees tight together. “I wouldn’t say that.”

  “Then what would you say?”

  She shrugged. “Not sure. The moment’s gone.”

  “Gone, or forgotten?”

  “Same difference.”

  “Is it?”

  She nodded.

  He ran his hand up her leg, past her knees, and along the inside of her thighs. Her muscles tensed under his touch, not enough to push him back, but more than enough to know he was getting to her.

  Good.

  “I think you might be a bit of a tease, Harper.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  He ran his hand over her leg. “Are you sure about that?”

  She pulled away, but that glint, the one that was in her eyes at the restaurant came back. “Maybe I just don’t want to have sex with you again.”

  “And why not?”

  “Maybe you didn’t impress me that much.”

  He leaned into her, feeling her thigh. “I think you’re bluffing.”

  She adjusted her skirt, covering her legs more and sort of wiggling out of his touch. “What if I’m not?”

  He proceeded to slowly stand up. Her legs slid off his lap, and her feet hit the floor in an unceremonious thunk.

  “Then I suppose it’s time for me to go.”

  She sat up straight, the playfulness gone from her expression. “Really, Chris?” She looked hurt as her gaze ran down him and landed on that one particular part. Her eyes widened, and she blinked very slowly. When he met her gaze, the desire he felt reflected back in her eyes.

  He took a step toward her. “I want you,” he whispered.

  As she rose, he took her hand and pulled her to him.

  He slid his hands in her hair, his fingers tripping over a clip. Their gazes remained locked when he snapped the clip out of her hair. The lovely locks tumbled down onto her shoulder.

  He stroked the strands. “Harper,” he whispered.

  She sighed against him. “I don’t mean to be a tease.”

  He leaned in, his lips just nipping hers. “I like your teasing.”

  She kissed back, similar soft nips. “Do you want more from me?”

  “I want every
thing.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Monday Afternoon

  “Thank you, Mister Locke. This will work out wonderfully, I know it will,” I said, shaking the nervous man’s hand. He was at that point where he knew retirement was around the corner, but he was scared to make any kind of decision to let go of his hard-earned savings.

  I escorted him out of my office into the lobby. He’d barely gotten out the door when Isaac burst into my office, shoving me back inside.

  “There’s a guy here to see you.”

  I raised one eyebrow. “Who is it?” There was no one in the lobby.

  Was it Chris? Had he stopped by? My heart did the pitter-patter. What can I say? He’s cute. And very good with his hands.

  We spent almost the whole weekend together, doing all those things that smitten couples did. We barely got out of bed on Saturday. And I have to say, it was pretty amazing.

  We did check in on his auntie, who was running the nurses ragged, and we took her home on Sunday. I even whipped her up some brownies, and she officially decided I was the greatest thing ever.

  I was pretty sure I thought the same thing about Chris. Chris was pretty awesome. Was I in love? Doubtful. I just was smitten.

  Smitten’s a good thing, right?

  I wasn’t sure I was crazy about how domestic the weekend had been, but this little, tiny part of me actually liked being domestic again. My ex and I had our issues, and I didn’t think I’d ever want to be a functioning couple again--not like that.

  But this was different. It felt right. And it threw me into a strange place. The place where I wanted to be with another guy. For more than just a minute.

  Isaac thrust me a file folder, making me jump. “Here’s his stuff. He’s in the bathroom. I’ll bring him in.”

  I glanced over the paperwork.

  Wait, what?

  Oh, right. New client.

  Not Chris coming to see me.

  Damn.

  I reeled my thoughts in, and focused on the paperwork as I walked back toward my desk.

  Something looked oddly familiar. I stopped and spun around. “Wait.”