by Lisa Oliver
Chapter Seven
“You were genuinely going on a road trip to find your fated mate? And you think that person is me?” That sensation of being in an alternative universe had persisted with Cooper since he’d shared his first kiss with the hunky Fagin. Something touched Cooper deep down inside when Fagin declared himself his. Not in the ‘mine, mine, mine’ tone alpha wolves were known for. No, Fagin was very specific and sounded so sincere – he belonged to Cooper and always would. A fairy tale come true? It was weird, totally unexpected and all through the drive to Cooper’s favorite restaurant and even as they ordered their meal, Cooper kept waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“My father was getting impatient for me to settle down and have kids. According to our pack laws, I couldn’t take over the pack until I’d done that,” Fagin said, around a mouthful of succulent lamb. He’d changed out of his leathers and was wearing a black shirt and a dark gray suit jacket that made him look like a GQ model. Cooper had to keep checking his chin, making sure his drool stayed in his mouth. But the implications of Fagin’s offhand comments suddenly sunk in and Cooper put down his fork.
“You’re the alpha-heir of your pack?” He knew it was all too good to be true.
Glancing around, Fagin nodded. There was no one dining close enough to hear them which is one of the reasons Cooper loved the restaurant so much; plenty of space between the tables.
“And your father expects you to have kids, I presume with a pack female?”
“Yep,” Fagin said cheerfully, cutting himself another slice of meat. “Of course, this all came to a head because Missy, she’s one of the females who wanted me, decided getting pregnant to me would secure her position in the pack. She didn’t want to mate with me; she’s got Bobby Joe for that, but he’s only a beta and she wanted alpha pups.”
Cooper struggled to follow. “You mean, you’ve got kids already? This Missy is pregnant?” Fagin didn’t look a day over twenty-five, but then with wolf genetics, looks could be deceiving.
“No,” Fagin shook his head sharply. “I made sure of that.”
Phew. He didn’t sleep with her. Cooper wasn’t sure why it would bother him if Fagin had, but it did. Unfortunately, Fagin hadn’t finished talking.
“I always used condoms with any of the females I’ve bedded including her and made sure to flush them. I’ve heard about women and turkey basters.” Fagin flashed him a grin before popping his lamb into his mouth.
Suddenly, the beautifully made lasagna Cooper usually adored felt heavy in his stomach. “I take it, you’ve slept with a lot of women,” he asked, not sure why he was torturing himself. Of course, the man’s slept with heaps of people. Look at him. He’s fucking gorgeous.
What was worse was Fagin just shrugged. “Alpha wolves and their sex drives,” he chuckled. “What can I say? It doesn’t matter who lays a hand on my cock. It’s gonna rise to the occasion every time.”
Cooper’s lasagna threatened to make a reappearance and he pushed his unfinished plate aside. “If it’s that easy to bed all these women, why not have the kids your alpha wants you to have and take over the pack the way he expects you too?”
Fagin must have picked up something from his tone because it was his turn to lay down his fork. “Sex is easy,” he said with a low growl. “That’s one of the many joys of being one of our kind. But raising kids is a totally different matter. I’ve never been that irresponsible to father kids I had no intention of raising no matter what my father expects.”
“But you’d make a great dad.” Cooper could picture the scene in his mind’s eye. Fagin with his arm around some long-haired beauty watching fondly as dark-haired children played at his feet. “If you’re capable of being with women in that way, then shouldn’t you at least consider bonding with one and creating heirs of your own? You could have a true family.”
“You’re sounding suspiciously like my father,” Fagin growled. “What part of true mates don’t you understand?”
Cooper refused to flinch or lower his head. They were in a human restaurant. Maria and Carlo, the owners, were just ten feet away, chuckling at the bar. While they had a private booth, there were at least twenty people enjoying their meal. Cooper had nothing to be afraid of. “I don’t understand any of it. My mother told me a lot of stories about how omegas were very special wolves and that one day I would meet an alpha worthy of my affection. She told me how my alpha would always care for me, cherish and protect me. But then she died, and I learned the only reason I’d been protected from my father and his inner circle that long was because she insisted on it. The day she died, I was pushed to my knees for the very first time at my mother’s funeral and ordered to stay there. I quickly came to the realization she’d been filling my head with fairy stories. That instead of being special, omegas were considered the scum of the pack, a punching bag, and an unworthy target for a hunt.”
“I’m sorry that happened to you, but that’s just in your home pack.” Fagin’s lips were tight. “Omegas are very important in pack society.”
“Female ones,” Cooper agreed. One of his sisters was an omega too, and he remembered his father spent hours evaluating candidates as possible mates for her. “Male omegas are automatically gay. You can’t tell me your father is okay with gay wolves in your pack or you wouldn’t be thinking of setting up your own pack to be with me. And the silly thing is, you don’t have to. You’ve already said you’re more than capable of fathering pups with any willing female.”
Standing up, he gave Fagin one last long glance. The guy truly was the sexiest man in existence, but he wasn’t going to ruin Fagin’s chance at the life he was born to. “I won’t let you do it. I won’t let you ruin your life for a fairy tale. You have the chance to have it all – a family, pups of your own and a strong alpha mate by your side. A broken omega can’t give you any of that, and believe me, I’m broken. You won’t find anyone more broken than me. Take care of yourself.”
Somehow, he made it out of the restaurant, only feeling slightly guilty he didn’t pay for his share of the meal. But as he climbed into the waiting cab, he couldn’t help feeling sorry that the one time he wanted an alpha to stand his ground, or even hunt him down, Fagin couldn’t be bothered to get out of his chair.
“It’s for the best,” he whispered as he laid his head on the passenger window, watching the lights in town flicker past them as the cab made its way to his empty apartment. “I did the right thing. He deserves the life he’s destined to have.”
/~/~/~/~/
“I knew my straight image would come back and bite me on the ass,” Fagin raged as he smashed another bottle into the firepit behind his house. He’d gotten past drunk an hour before and was now drinking himself sober again. “Why does it always come back to having kids? What if I don’t want kids? Huh? Does anyone think of that? What if I don’t want bloody kids of my own?”
“Do you, though? Most wolves have the need to procreate. It’s a natural assumption.”
Lounging back in his chair, Buster was the poster boy for calm while Fagin was anything but. The only reason he didn’t chase after Cooper at the restaurant was because he had to pay for their meal and by the time the woman who owned the place had gone on and on asking what was wrong with the food, and he had to assure her it was nothing personal, Cooper had disappeared. Sure, he could’ve gone to Cooper’s apartment, but by then Fagin was fast loosing control of his wolf and couldn’t trust himself out in public. Arriving back at his own house, Fagin opened up his drinks cabinet and proceeded to empty it straight down his throat.
“I don’t want kids. Call it weird, strange or whatever you like but you’ve seen the way my father behaved, as though having pups validated his existence. And why? It’s not as though he spent any time with his own kids or his grandkids. All he ever did was parade Mom around when she was pregnant as though he’d achieved something. My wolf sees the little ones running around the pack and wants to hide from them. They’re loud, annoying and dependent little poop-ma
kers and I don’t need any of my own to prove my manhood. The whole idea makes me shudder just to think of it.”
“Missy was prepared to raise your kids for you with Bobby Joe. It’s not as though you’d have to have anything to do with the day to day stuff,” Buster reminded him.
“That was worse – I can’t believe my father was prepared to go along with that idiotic plan.” Fagin took another swig from his bottle. “Why does it have to be that way? So, I have a kid. So, what? It doesn’t mean my kid will be alpha. It doesn’t make me a better alpha. I don’t know why a pack alpha isn’t just determined on challenges the way it used to be. This family heritage aspect doesn’t make one alpha any better than another or better for the pack. I’ve never wanted to be a dad in any way shape or form – deadbeat or otherwise. Leaving my pups for someone else to raise just so I could be the pack alpha was the sickest idea I’ve ever heard. I’m secure enough in my own power, but no one gets that.”
“Did you explain all that to Cooper?”
“No,” Fagin yelled because just hearing the young man’s name made his wolf howl. “No, I didn’t,” he said in a quieter voice this time, “because I was too busy making myself out to be the studly alpha wolf so he’d approve of me and then everything I said got thrown back in my face. He sounded just like my dad.”
“Your mistake was not explaining to him about true mates or the fact that you are adamantly opposed to kids,” Buster said. “Clearly the boy has hang ups. After the story he’s shared, who could blame him. You were busy telling him you could fuck anyone anytime. Does he even know you can’t get it up for anyone anymore now you’ve scented him?”
Fagin thought back over their evening and shook his head. “I doubt it. His pack had to be the most archaic I’ve ever heard of before. At least in our pack, father only hates gays because they won’t breed. He figures its every wolf’s duty to have as many offspring as possible.”
“A bit like Cooper’s dad from the sounds of it and wasn’t his father the pack alpha too?”
“Apparently.” Leaning back in his chair, Fagin stared at the stars. It was a clear night and the black sky looked as though it was sprinkled with a million diamonds. There was a huge ache where his heart was meant to be, and Fagin wished on every one of those stars that Cooper could and would believe in him. He knew he’d fucked up from the moment they met, but surely the pull had to be working on Cooper the same as it did for him. Fagin’s wolf was still pushing at the boundaries of his skin, desperate to go and hunt down their mate, but Fagin couldn’t let his wolf take control. With the horrors Cooper had shared, being hunted was the last thing the young man needed. But gods, he missed the little guy so badly and he’d known him less than a day.
“Do we know where Cooper works?” Fagin asked, reaching for another bottle to distract himself.
“Jim had the card for his office tucked behind the bar. You’re not still thinking of getting Cooper to do our taxes are you?”
“Not exactly, no.” Fagin took a swig of his drink. “But seeing as modern wolves run their packs like a business, don’t you think it would make sense to get some financial advice?”
“A very sensible idea indeed alpha,” Buster laughed and held out his bottle. Fagin clinked it with his own and settled back to watch the night sky. Soon, little one. Soon.
Chapter Eight
“I wish I could have come with you,” Beth sighed in that dreamy way that let Cooper know he was in trouble. “You went into a genuine biker bar full of hunky men and you didn’t take me.”
“I also got hit by two doors which was why I had to go home early. Believe me, it’s not the place for a lovely lady like you.” Cooper looked down at the papers on his desk but none of the words he was seeing made sense. He was amazed he’d even made it to the office, but some habits were hard to break. After spending the night alternating between tears and surges of lust thinking about Fagin and what might have been, Cooper was glad when his alarm went off and he could go about his daily routine.
“Come out with me tonight.” Beth leaned forward on his desk. Cooper always thought his receptionist was a beautiful young lady, especially when her green eyes gleamed with excitement. “We can share a meal and then maybe go clubbing afterwards. Come on. Don’t say no. It’s Friday. We can stay out late and sleep in in the morning.”
She looked so eager. That’s something Cooper always loved about Beth from the first time he saw her when he joined Abrahams and Michaels, seven months earlier. She’d been introduced as his receptionist and the moment Abrahams had left him alone, she’d bounced in without knocking, complained about his hair, criticized the cut of his suit and asked him his favorite coffee preference. A single vivacious red-head with a temper to match, Beth took him out for drinks the first Friday night they’d worked together, and they’d bonded over Tequila and pretzels. She was highly proficient, although it never showed in her manner of dress that leaned more towards steampunk than office attire, but her qualifications spoke volumes towards her tenacity.
She was also almost impossible to say no to, but Cooper opened his mouth to do just that when someone knocked on his office door. “Mr. Samuels?” Miss Frist, Abrahams’ Personal Assistant opened the door and frowned at Beth. That wasn’t anything new. Miss Frist was well past retirement age and never turned up to the office in anything but an immaculately dark navy suit, white blouse with a high collar, and a string of pearls. “Mr. Abrahams would like to see you in his office if you’re free, Mr. Samuels. I did try calling your receptionist, but the line was unattended.”
“Mr. Samuels was injured yesterday doing his job,” Beth said in the prim and proper manner she and Cooper giggled about when they were out drinking. “I was ensuring he was suitably healed enough to continue working today.”
“You were injured? Oh, my stars. Nothing to serious, I hope.” Miss Frist clutched at her pearls, something Cooper had only ever read about people doing in Victorian melodramas. “I can explain to Mr. Abrahams you’re indisposed if you need to go home, Mr. Samuels.”
“Thank you very much, Miss Frist, but I will be fine.” Cooper stood and grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair. “Beth, if you could hold my calls for the next hour or so as once this meeting is concluded I have the Saint files to go over. I’ll let you know if my plans change by lunchtime. Miss Frist, after you.”
As he followed the indomitable Miss Frist along the long corridor separating the offices of junior partners like him from the bosses, Cooper tried to think why he was being summoned. Admittedly, he didn’t get any work done for Fagin’s bar, but it was unlikely the wolf would’ve complained about his behavior. Shifters didn’t use authorities to let their displeasure be known. If Fagin was angry at him, he’d have visited during the night and Cooper wouldn’t have been fit for work for at least a week.
I’m a good worker. I’m a professional. I deserve my position. Unfortunately, Cooper’s mental mantra would be more effective if his brain was fully engaged. He was sure he could smell Fagin’s scent in the corridor, getting stronger as Miss Frist knocked sharply on Abrahams’ door.
“Mr. Samuels to see you, sir,” Miss Frist indicated for him to enter the office and closed the door discretely behind him. Mr. Abrahams was a large, older gentleman whose wide girth indicated long hours behind a desk and copious use of his expense account. As one of the two founders of the firm, Abrahams was the one who hired him. In fact, in seven months, Cooper had only met the other founding partner, Mr. Michaels once and that was only in passing. The older partner in the firm traveled a lot advising clients with billion dollar bank accounts.
“You wanted to see me, Mr. Abrahams?” Cooper gulped as he realized his boss wasn’t alone. Sitting in two chairs opposite Abrahams’ desk were Fagin and Buster; Fagin looking debonair in a suit that must have cost a fortune and Buster looking as though his tie was trying to strangle him. Sexy thugs in suits. This can’t be good. The theme from the Godfather ran through Cooper’s head.
“Sit down, Samuels, sit down.” Abrahams beamed. That was a good sign from an employment perspective at least. Cooper’s boss was never good at hiding his emotions. However, the twitch of Fagin’s lip made Cooper uneasy. “I believe you met Mr. Mars and er…Buster yesterday during your visit to Fagin’s establishment on West street?”
“Yes, sir.” Cooper eased into the nearest seat. Manners insisted he at least acknowledge the two wolves. “Mr. Mars, Buster, I am surprised to see you here.” After I made a mess of my appointment, got myself hit twice with doors that should only go one way and then endangered my professionalism by having dinner with a client.
“I was explaining to Mr. Abrahams that Buster and I have just started a new business venture; a family firm if you will that may have been mentioned in passing yesterday.” Fagin’s was talking about the pack, Cooper realized. “Buster and I will be investing large sums of money into this venture and after being so impressed with your performance yesterday, we felt it fitting if you would act as our financial consultant.”
“I’m hardly qualified to act as a consultant.” Cooper tore his eyes away from the stunning sight of Fagin’s thighs clad in expensive material that contained a faint sheen of silk and looked directly at his boss. “I’m sure Mr. Abrahams explained my duties here are as a junior partner specializing in taxation. Mr. Michaels, the other partner, is better qualified and far more experienced in consultancy matters particularly if you are looking at investing your money.”
“Taxation is a very important field,” Abrahams said with a smile. “After all, Al Capone eventually fell prey to the taxman because he didn’t keep appropriate records and pay his dues. Mr. Samuels does himself an injustice. He has an impressive resume and two degrees in finance and administration.”