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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.
The Alpha’s Ginger-Kissed Omega Copyright 2019 Lorelei M. Hart
ISBN: 978-1-68361-311-4
Editor Wizards in Publishing
Cover design by Fantasia Frog Designs
Published by Decadent Publishing LLC
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
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About the Authors
Blurb
A long time ago, I met the alpha of my dreams. We spent one night together, the most amazing of my life. He left me a note, but fate had other plans. I never knew his name, but he left me with something else—his babe in my stomach.
Now that my child and I have moved to a new town, I’ve found him again. But I have to tell him this boy is his son and hope he doesn’t hate me.
All these years the only thing Bennett had of me was the first letter of my name and memories of that one night. But he has a son, so he must have a mate. I still love him, that fiery ginger from the rock concert. And I wonder why his son looks a little like me.
Ginger-Kissed
By
Lorelei M. Hart
Chapter One
Bennett Ames
The city life had gotten to be too much for us. While Parker and I were pretty sound, financially, life was tough in the city. I found my kid getting pulled more and more into the rowdy crowds, and his grades had been on a downhill spiral for about two years.
When he came home one day with a black eye and a notice of suspension, I knew it was time to retire my big city dreams and find a town more our size.
My kid was angry. I knew he would be. He’d grown up as a city kid. He took the subway everywhere and had no idea how to go to sleep without the blaring horns and neon lights rocking him to sleep.
“This is it, Parker. Roseville. Isn’t it beautiful?”
We passed the signal welcoming us to the town with hand-painted flowers on the homemade-looking sign. Winter had descended on the town. Snow made every roof look like it was made of cotton instead of roofing shingles. Some houses still retained their twinkling lights left over from Christmas.
This year would be different for us.
It had to be.
My answer came in the form of a grunt from the back seat. He insisted on sitting there. He said front seats were for people excited to get to their destination.
I was lucky to get a grunt lately. Mostly he bopped his head along to whatever music and ignored me.
Little did he know that I’d confiscated the charger to said wireless headphones and, once they were dead, they would be dead until his attitude was reawakened, in a good way, hopefully.
We pulled up at a cottage, not big, but certainly not small. I looked at the email on my phone again and confirmed it with the brass numbers on the front of the house, and then turned to reconfirm with the numbers on the mailbox.
The pictures matched, but then again, I’d seen several replicas of this house around the town as we’d driven through.
Nothing ever wrong with double-checking.
“This is it?” Parker said, finally taking his headphones off his head and looking around.
“This is it. It’s perfect. We needed this change. Me and you.”
Yeah, the other thing was, I needed the shift in atmosphere maybe more than my son did. I had no time to date or even meet anyone in the city. I worked as a web designer from home, and during the day I worked in a law office, tracking down medical records. Because when you’re a single father in New York City, two jobs isn’t optional, it’s survival of the fittest.
“You, maybe. I was good.”
I snorted but refused to look at him in the mirror. I didn’t appreciate seeing his eyes rolled at me. And I was too tired and mentally beat up to get on him.
I got out and pulled my puffy coat tighter around my torso. The wind whipped at me, and I rushed up to the porch, fishing the keys out of my pockets. The realtor had overnighted them to me as soon as I signed all the forms and emailed them back with a PayPal payment for the first, last month, and the security deposit. Even with all those fees, it was less than one month’s rent in the city.
“Come in, Parker. It’s freezing. They said they left some firewood for us.”
I finagled with the lock on the door before getting it open. Warm air blasted me in the face, and I breathed a sigh of relief. They did leave the heat on low and some firewood was in front of the fireplace along with matches and a bottle of wine with a note on it.
“This place is dank,” my son said, closing the door behind him. He didn’t bring a single bag in, but then again, he was nine going on seventeen with the brooding capability of James Dean. What exactly did I expect?
“It’s been on the market for a while. But I got it for cheap. We’ll make it great. Come over here. I’m getting the fire started.”
He plopped down with zero enthusiasm and huffed breaths into his cupped hands.
Over and over again, I’d had to convince myself this was the best move for us.
But as I sat there, striking a match and putting it to some newspaper left by someone before us, I realized how silent this place was.
No blaring horns or cab drivers angry at the person in front of them.
Not a single sound except the wind.
“It’s so quiet here. I bet we sleep like babies.”
My son snorted. “Babies wake up like every two hours. You said I did.”
I rubbed his knee a little. “You did—like clockwork. Hungry little sucker. I’d be nursing you and eating anything within reach at the same time.”
He shrugged. This was the subject we didn’t talk about often.
The alpha who was his father didn’t stick around. I didn’t even know his name. We met at a rock concert and before I knew it, we were in a hotel room, and the next morning he was gone.
He left a note, but I spilled water on it in my hungover glory.
His name started with a G, but that’s the only part of the note not washed away by my clumsiness.
My name was the only one on Parker’s birth certificate.
Nothing I could do about it now.
“Let’s get our ice chest inside and make s
ome sandwiches. Then we can get out the sleeping bags and sleep here for the night. I’m too beat to pull in the mattresses right now.”
“Peanut butter and jelly for me, please. I’ll...I’ll grab the sleeping bags and pillows.”
I nodded, loving the sweet glimpses of the boy he used to be before whatever adolescent nonsense dug in under his skin.
“I love you, Parker,” I said, hoping to extend the moment.
“Yep.”
Well, so much for that.
Chapter Two
George Cameron
Once the kids went back to school after the holidays, things settled down a lot at My Brother, My Sister. At least during the day. The community center/kids’ after-school haven kicked into gear about two o’clock, however, with snow on the ground and a chill in the air, outdoor activities were curtailed, meaning the usually adequate building strained at the seams until well after the winter sun disappeared over the horizon.
My job, as administrative assistant, GED program coordinator, financial aid liaison, grant procurer, and all the rest also kicked into high gear at this time of year. Kids who should have been applying for scholarships for months, for college admission, etc. finally saw the deadlines looming and panicked. I’d warned them, threatened them, sworn I wouldn’t help them out at the last minute, but my reputation preceded me, and they kept trying—almost always with success. Case was a case in point, the seventeen-year-old sitting across my desk as dusk closed in outside the windows on this weekday afternoon. A boy whose grades wavered between scholarship material and not so much.
“I told you, Caden. It’s too late to get all this paperwork done.” I shook my head then shrugged. “Maybe you can take a year off between high school and college and get a job.”
All the color drained out of his face at the evil J word. Lots of our kids actually did work after school but Caden’s parents, while not rich enough to pay his full tuition at the private college of his choice without at least a partial scholarship, had paid for everything he wanted or needed up until now. Perhaps if they had held back a little on what he wanted, there’d be more for what he needed. But judging them wasn’t my job.
“Please, Mr. Cameron. My parents will kill me. They think I already did all this.”
Of course they did.
“I wish I could help you, but how would it look if I went back on my word?” Like every year…
“Mr. Cameron, isn’t there anything I can do to convince you?”
I had to admit I was an opportunist—meaning, I grabbed any opportunity to get these kids to help themselves to a good life. “Suggestions?”
My phone chimed with a text and I ignored it. I was close to closing this deal. I could almost taste it. The silence lengthened, and I reached for my phone and glanced at the screen. “I’d better return this call. Why don’t you just tell your parents what happened and maybe they can figure something out?”
He broke.
“How about if I w-work here, volunteer?” He laid his hands flat on the desk, leaning toward me. “I could maybe help the kids with their homework?”
“Hmmm.” I pretended to consider. While he was not a straight-A student, he was certainly capable of helping some of the younger kids with their work, and it would do him good, too. “I’m not sure. Care to sweeten the pot? Something about your upcoming grades?” Because if they weren’t good, I truly couldn’t help. His parents made too much to qualify for low-income assistance. It was scholarships or loans, and I’d do my damnedest to help him avoid the debt load on graduation.
“Okay. I will help here three days a week and promise nothing lower than...than a B.”
Like a used car salesman scenting blood in the water, I leapt to my feet and held out a hand. “Shake on it.”
We did, and I sent him out to report to the volunteer coordinator. I’d get a head start on his paperwork, although I didn’t tell him that. Like most of our kids, he was a good one, and I’d miss him when he went off to college in the fall.
With I sigh, I checked my phone to see a message from Edison, who had taken the afternoon off to visit the dentist. New boy coming this afternoon. I forgot to note it. Parker Ames with his dad to sign him up. Handle that for me, will you? I have a mouthful of gauze.
Good times. No problem.
Despite being good friends with our local family dentist, my boss and buddy hated having his teeth worked on more than just about anything.
Thanks. Always brush your teeth, man. Like he didn’t. His smile was brilliant white, but anyone could break a tooth on a hard caramel.
I shoved the device in my pocket and headed out into the main area, keeping an eye out for unfamiliar faces. Most of the boys and girls who were gathered around the various tables doing their homework or craft activities, the little ones in the story corner listening to another volunteer read to them...most of them were long-time denizens of our little center, but we also had a number of foster kids, and they often came and went.
They made my heart ache. I had two terrific dads, and had never had to face the instability they did, the lack of knowledge of where they’d live next week or next year, or if their parents would be in a position to give them a home again.
Edison and his alpha Liam, who owned Sugar, the local boutique candy store, had adopted two of these little ones, and, along with a baby of their own had a happy bustling family. A visit to their home was an experience in controlled chaos, but I always felt a pang when I left. My place seemed quiet and empty. I had wanted a dog for a long time, but how fair would it be to him to be left alone in the apartment while I worked? And a pet couldn’t make up for the lack of a person. I’d met someone once, but nothing had come of it. Maybe I was destined to be the single alpha at all my friends’ family celebrations.
There was a lot to be said for good friends. And a job I loved, one where I could help young people get a good start in life. It should be enough.
Shrugging off the dismal thoughts, I continued to a group of kids who seemed way too interested in something on a phone screen. Usually that meant mischief. In this case, they were watching a video which while not as bad as it could have been, was certainly not one their parents would have approved of. Once I’d resolved that issue, I started back for my office to get a start on Caden’s paperwork. I could think of a couple of scholarships he might qualify for. If I wasn’t mistaken, he had some good science skills...
“Excuse me?” At the soft, deep voice, I froze. “I’m looking for Edison Marley.”
Mouth dry as a desert, I sucked in a breath because it couldn’t be. But I’d never forget that voice. Not in a million years. But it really, truly couldn’t be. Why would someone from New York be in Roseville? And it had been so long. Steeling myself for disappointment, I slowly turned around to face him. “Edison isn’t here, just now. I’m his assistant, George Cameron.”
The sexy blue-eyed ginger from the rock concert—and the hotel afterward—stared back, clearly in as much shock as me. “George,” he breathed. “I knew it started with a G.”
Chapter Three
Bennett
I knew Roseville was the place for me.
“You knew my name started with G?” he said, looking, if possible, twice as sexy as he had that night after the concert. He’d gained a little weight and let his hair grow. There were hints of gray peeking out here and there, but time had been good to him.
And here I was in my fanciest puffy jacket, and my lips were chapped.
By fancy, I meant that I found it at a thrift store.
“Yeah, I spilled water...this isn’t really the time. I’m here to sign up my son, Parker, for after-school activities and probably tutoring, and is there an attitude-shifter machine around here as well?”
Though his eyebrows were bunched in confusion, he laughed at my joke and then cleared his throat as though he realized he might be having fun and wasn’t supposed to. “Your son? We’ll need to put your mate or husband on the form as well in case he needs to p
ick Parker up.”
Oh, that’s what had bothered him, which made me happy in a weird way.
He wanted to know if I had a mate or a husband. Moreover, he wanted to know if I was single.
A fair question, especially since he had a son with me who I hadn’t told him about because I didn’t know where to find him. My heart was beating overtime. So often I’d daydreamed about finding him again, telling him we had a son, and we’d stroll hand in hand into the sunset or something.
Here he was, and I was about to throw up.
“It’s just me. But is it okay if I fill out the forms here?”
George nodded and gave me the forms and a pen, letting his fingers linger longer over mine during the handover than necessary.
I scribbled all the necessary info over three forms, knowing that his eyes were on me every second. There were so many things I wanted to say and facts he deserved to know, not to mention that human we created together, sitting at home, brooding over the city.
I had a lot of things to say.
“Here you go. When can he start? I still have to go register him for school and switch over the electricity to my name and water and probably forward my mail, and you don’t care, and I’m talking too much.”
I sighed and leaned forward to put my forehead on the counter.
George laughed at me. My head on the counter in sheer embarrassment, and he’s chuckling.
The sound goes through me like a shot of adrenaline, and I remember hearing it that night. That night I gave him everything I had, and he put a babe in my belly without even knowing it.
I had a headache all of a sudden.
“Bennett, let’s take a breath. You’ve got a lot on your mind, and I think I can help.”
“Can you, alpha?” The name slipped out much like he had that morning after the best night of my life.
“I can. Let me finish up some things. Why don’t you take a look around and then I’m all yours. I’m pretty sure we have some things to talk about, like what happened after I left that morning. Give me ten minutes.”
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