Taming the Alpha

by Mandy M. Roth

“A friend brought it in my house. And it died. That’s all I know.”

  He stroked the leaves and stuck his finger in the dirt. “Did you ever water it?”

  “Maybe. I can’t remember.”

  He shook his head and rubbed his brow over his glasses. I swear I heard him mutter something about no one being perfect.

  I considered, for a second, being offended, but I knew my faults. The green thumb gene skipped me. My mom’s decent, Dad’s good at it. But me? I’m pretty much a disaster zone to plants. Guess it’s good the landscaper finds out now, if anything interesting was going to happen between us.

  I began to wonder if anything interesting was going to happen. He didn’t seem terribly impressed with me anymore.

  Who would have thought a dead plant could kill a mood?

  He brought his bright eyes back to mine. “So you don’t water your plants?”

  “I’m not exactly good at the whole outdoors stuff.”

  “But this is indoors.”

  “That someone brought from the outdoors.” I picked up the dead plant and took it in the kitchen.

  Eventually, I’d get the poor plant-corpse to the trash can.

  “People really should stop expecting me to care for plants,” I said as I sat it down. I turned to look at him, and he still stood in the living room.

  “Ferns are pretty difficult to kill.”

  I shrugged as I flipped on a lamp, which painted a soft glow around my living room. “Maybe for you. Like I said, I have the Thumb of Death.” I took a seat on the couch, and he followed suit, sitting about a throw-pillow away from me.

  “You’d be surprised how easy and satisfying caring for a plant is.”

  “Satisfying? How so?”

  “Seeing what you’ve planted grow and blossom into something more than what it started as can make you feel accomplished.”

  I nodded. “Like watching someone’s portfolio grow.”

  He smirked. “There’s a big difference between something that’s alive and money.”

  “It’s what I got.”

  “Well, I like what you got,” he said, his voice husky as he leaned toward me.

  I wasn’t sure what to say to that, which is probably why I did the open-mouth gape at him.

  He shifted positions, and a smile passed over his features. I could practically see the gears switching in him. “Evidently, everyone at the barbecue did too. Even Auntie Gladys commented on your, uh, ‘sex appeal.’”

  I burst out laughing. “She did not say that.”

  “Yes, she did.” He laughed as well.

  “She is a hoot. I think I saw her eat three of my brownie cupcakes.”

  “I bet she snuck a couple in her purse.”

  “Well I didn’t have to bring any home, so I call that a win.”

  He reached over and touched my hand. A thousand little nerves leaped to life at the contact, and I bit my lip. While I wanted to kiss him, I still hesitated. After all, he was amazing--gorgeous enough to stop traffic, his black glasses framing his incredible eyes, eyes that I could--

  “Thank you for today.” His words drew me back out of my head.

  I squeezed his hand back. “Sure, no problem.” If my touch did more than comfort him, I couldn’t tell. He was like a book with a dust jacket--I couldn’t be sure what was going on under the pretty façade.

  ***

  He glanced at his watch. It wasn’t even eight o’clock yet.

  I let go and ran my hand through my hair. Was I nervous, oh yes. Why? I had no idea. Other than I really wanted him to kiss me again, but I didn’t want to throw myself on him to get it.

  So I turned into my mother--the ultimate hostess--for a moment. “Um, did you want a beer? Or coffee? Or watch a movie or something? I have snacks.”

  He shook his head. “No, not really.” He ran his hands over his jeans and stood. Which made me stand. “I really should be going.”

  I nodded, feeling a bit disappointed he was going to leave so soon. I think, well, maybe I’d hoped that he would hang for a little while. “Sure, yeah. It was a long day. I’m sure you’re tired. I know my family can be exhausting, and after a long day with them, even if I’m having a blast--”

  He cut me off with a kiss.

  And good grief, what an amazing one.

  My toes curled, and I’m pretty sure I sighed, even before his tongue touched mine. When the kiss deepened, I collapsed against him and his arms wrapped around me. He pulled me tight and I groaned as our hips pressed together.

  And holy moly, he was filling out his jeans very, very well. All the heat coming from the middle of his body almost lit my own body on fire.

  I threaded my fingers in his hair and he groaned.

  He put his hand on my rear and held me tight against his hips. His leg slid between mine, and I couldn’t help rubbing against him.

  He’s the one who released our kiss, but his lips didn’t stop. He slid down and started kissing my neck. My heart hammered as he moved along my throat, sending shivers throughout my body. One of his hands skimmed my ribcage, next to my breast. I moaned and arched my back when he cupped me through my blouse.

  His kisses moved lower, and I kept my hand in his hair, sort of directing him toward my very needy chest. But let’s face it, my whole body was needy at this point.

  I wanted this guy so badly, I thought I might scream.

  He nibbled through my blouse, and I rocked with desire. I really, really, really needed to lead him back to my bedroom.

  Like now.

  “Shall we, uh, adjourn to my room?”

  He stopped. His gaze met mine, and immediately the hesitation I saw there made me want to kick myself in the ass.

  “I… I’m sorry. I really should be going.” He stood up straighter and let go of me.

  “Why?”

  “I…” He glanced at his watch again. “I really need to go.”

  As if on cue, his phone went off. He snagged it off the coffee table, his face unreadable as he glanced at the screen.

  “What, you got another date?”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  I took a step away from him, my stomach knotting in a hundred different ways. I wanted to punch him, to scream, to kick him in the nuts.

  Another friggin’ date? What kind of a bastard was this guy?

  I put my hands on my hips. “So why didn’t you take this date to your family barbecue?”

  “It’s not that kind of date.”

  I blinked, unsure what he could have meant. Didn’t stop my mouth though.

  “Oh, so you keep your hooker secret. Bring someone respectable like me to the family thing, but get your freak on with someone else. Makes perfect sense.” I walked to the door and jerked it open. “I think our deal is done.”

  He came toward me. Or rather, the door, but he held out his phone. “This is my date.”

  And he showed me a picture of a little girl. Maybe seven years old.

  I blinked, because I didn’t want to process what the hell that meant. And why would he be showing this to me? Words left me as I stared at this picture of a pretty little blonde girl with bright green eyes and the biggest grin on her face.

  “Your daughter?” I whispered.

  “No. My partner’s daughter.”

  I blinked again. “Your partner? You mean you are gay?” My insides quivered, and not in the good way.

  He shook his head, and there might have been a bit of a smile on his face. “No, my business partner. This is his daughter. I promised I would watch her tonight so they could go to a late movie for their anniversary.” He tapped the phone and showed me a text message. “He wants to know where the hell I am, because they’re going to be late if I don’t get there soon.”

  I scanned the message, and it matched his story.

  “I’m sorry. I just assumed…”

  “I know what you assumed.” He stuck the phone in his pocket. “Be more trusting.”

  “It’s harder than you think.”

&nb
sp; “I trust you.”

  “You just need me to help your business.”

  “That’s not all I need from you.” His gaze roamed over me.

  I blushed. “Go, you’re going to be even more late.”

  He nodded, then gave me one more, not quite as steamy, but nonetheless toe-curling kiss as he walked out the door. “We’ll need to make time for this.”

  I nodded as I pushed him out the door.

  Yes, we very much did need to figure out what the hell this was between us.

  Chapter Eight

  Wednesday

  “Chris?” Harper’s voice echoed through his house.

  “Out here,” he answered, not wanting to think about how comfortable her voice sounded in his house.

  Truth be told, he hadn’t been able to get her off his mind since the barbecue, and their unfinished business after.

  How he would have loved to spend Saturday night exploring that powerful craving he felt around her.

  Harper’s shoes clacked across his hardwood floor as she came to the back door. “Nice place,” she said, a file folder in her hand as she unbuttoned her suit jacket. Her hair, which had been down at the barbecue, was tucked and smoothed away from her face. She had this conservative--

  Her jacket opened, and he got a gorgeous view of her breasts outlined in her silky tank top and cleavage.

  Very nice…

  She breezed through the door like she owned the place. “Wow, what a back yard. Is that a koi pond?”

  As she walked past him, he glanced at her legs, looking miles long underneath her skirt.

  She looked in the pond, as if she had no idea how sexy she looked. “Nice.” She took a deep breath and smiled.

  “Thanks,” he said as he turned the steaks, not wanting to stare at her too much. Could be considered creepy. “I hope you like steak.”

  “Steak is awesome.” She strolled over to the grill. “Thank you for cooking. This has to be way better than anything we would have gotten at a restaurant.”

  “You haven’t tried it yet.”

  She inhaled a deep breath again. “I don’t have to. Steak. Charcoal. A backyard nicer than some parks. This is practically heaven.” She dropped into one of his lounge chairs, her legs crossed, which only made them look longer. “All I need is--”

  “Beer’s in the cooler.” He nudged the cooler with his foot and kept looking at the steaks. Not at how the way she was sitting made her skirt inch up a bit.

  “Close. I was thinking wine.”

  “That’s in there too.”

  She pulled out the little four-pack of wine he’d picked up, laughing. “Wine in little bitty beer bottles. That’s hilarious.”

  “There’s red and white in there. I didn’t know what you’d like.”

  “Thank you, that’s very thoughtful.” She smiled as she opened one of the white wine bottles.

  “Welcome. My mother ingrained manners in me, whether I wanted them or not.”

  “Mothers tend to do that.” She shifted on the chair, and he glanced at her legs.

  Couldn’t help it, they were there.

  And so hot.

  They continued with small talk while he finished cooking. He marveled at Harper’s easy attitude. Even after a day of working with money and numbers, she seemed pleasant and happy.

  It had been quite a while since he’d had a woman who was happy in his house. It sure changed the ambience of the place. He’d been sure for a long time that he didn’t want anyone else here, because he didn’t like anyone in his space.

  But already, Harper felt like she fit.

  Almost creepy, that feeling.

  “Did you need me to do something inside while you take the meat up?”

  He blinked. “Sorry. No, I have everything done, I think.”

  She pulled a bottle of water out of the cooler. “I feel kinda useless, since you’re so efficient.”

  He smirked. “Not really, just cooked it all on the grill. Makes it easier that way.” He put everything on his tray and carried it inside. The table overlooked the backyard and he’d put out two plates.

  It wasn’t horribly hot tonight. He’d thought about setting up outside but wasn’t sure how she’d feel about that, so he decided to go with inside and a good view.

  They got settled at the table, and he watched her take a bite of her steak.

  “Oh wow,” she said, her eyes closing.

  His thoughts jumped to all the ways he’d want to make her have that same look of ecstasy on her face, but without the food.

  Down boy, he told himself.

  “Women don’t normally moan over my cooking.”

  “You’ve been feeding the wrong women. This is great.” She gestured at her meat with her fork.

  Of course, when she met his gaze, her face shifted.

  She must have realized what he was thinking about, because her cheeks turned pink, and immediately she returned to her food.

  They ate, chatting again about nothing--which helped because his gaze kept wandering to the hint of cleavage revealed by her blouse. His mind kept darting to all the things he’d like to do to each particular bare piece of skin.

  If she noticed, she didn’t say anything. Instead, they talked about mundane things like the weather, what an odd fall it had been, and how it was affecting his business.

  After they were done, she helped clean everything up. She hadn’t mentioned the folder she’d brought in, but after they finished their meal, she picked it up and sat back at the table with it.

  “Okay, so I suppose we should get down to it,” Harper said, a pen in her hand, and she rubbed the edge of the file.

  He sat next to her. “What’s in there?”

  “Just my reports about your business.”

  “It looks pretty thin.”

  “It’s my summary.” She opened it and pulled out a single sheet of paper. “I always make one for the basics of what you need.”

  “That’s easy. Money.”

  She smirked. “Yes. But there’s a bit more to it. If you see here,” she scooted the paper toward him, “your company has steady growth, and you’ve maintained a reasonable overhead. I didn’t see any unexpected losses with a business like yours. Even in your off-season, you’ve managed to maintain a steady income.”

  He nodded. “I work hard bringing in winter contracts. There’s two new home developments going in on the west side of town, and I’ve just won the bids to do the landscaping for all the new houses.”

  “That’s great.” She smiled. “I’ve also looked up your internet presence, and you seem to be well ranked, even on those consumer review lists.”

  “Good to know,” he said with a grin.

  “Long story short; your company has a respectable return and would make a good investment.”

  A wave of relief washed through him, relief that he didn’t know he’d been waiting for. He knew his company was a good one, but the numbers, he wasn’t sure if something bad lurked there that he couldn’t fight. He could sell his company, its services, the work.

  But if the numbers weren’t there…

  “All of this is great, but what about investors?”

  “I put some calls in with some of my clients, but I haven’t heard back yet. I expect to in a day or two. What I think you need to do is put together a proposal for potential investors. I’ll arrange the meeting, and then we can sell your company.”

  He blinked. “You mean sell the potential for my company.”

  “Yes, of course. What did you think I meant?”

  He shrugged, though it nagged at him the way she’d worded that. Almost like…

  No. He brushed off the thoughts. This was a miracle being dropped into his lap. He shouldn’t question it.

  Should he?

  Well, maybe a little.

  “So who are these investors?”

  “Clients of mine who are always looking to invest locally. They prefer to channel their funds into their community instead of large conglome
rates.” She smiled, like it made perfect sense.

  It didn’t to him. While he didn’t doubt the potential of his company, it wasn’t a billion dollar business. Maybe in a decade, he’d be worth a million, but not without a lot of hard work. Finding someone who understood that kind of investment seemed very hard to him.

  “If you think so,” he said.

  “Sure.” She picked up her drink and ran her fingers over the bottle. “You’ll need to get your pitch together for the investor, and--”

  “Investors,” he corrected.

  “Right, the investors.” She emphasized the plural word. “Though this won’t be like those money people on TV where they all listen to your proposal and give you offers.”

  “That I don’t doubt.” He stood and paced around the kitchen. “If it was a landscaping project, I could draw up a perfect proposal, make all the necessary tweaks to it, and pitch it right there on the spot. This though…”

  “Money is a big deal.” She raised her eyebrow. “Do you know how to present a business plan?”

  “It can’t be that hard.”

  She stood and put her hand on his arm. “You’re in a better place than most. You have an established and growing company. This shouldn’t be difficult to create a proper proposal.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Chris said.

  “I know I am.”

  He pulled her into an embrace. He’d meant it to only be a friendly, thank-you typed hug, but just feeling her against him suddenly that wasn’t enough. He ran his hand over her back, the silky fabric contrasting his hard hands. She sighed and her hips rubbed his, a rocking motion that he knew wasn’t intended for the friendly hug thing.

  He nuzzled her neck, exposed because her hair was pulled back, and he couldn’t help tasting it like he’d wanted to at the barbecue. He ran his lips along her jaw, up the side to her ear. He tasted the shell and she sagged against him, her breath shuddering against his cheek.

  She ran her hands along his back, down to his pant line, and he rocked his hips into hers when he felt her thumbs slip under his belt.

  He moaned as they started to kiss. How was it that she felt this incredible to him? How did this happen? Women were not his main priority, just something for a side thing. Yet right now, all he wanted to do was make her his priority.