Baiting Him (How to Catch an Alpha #2)(50)

“Whatever, we need to go,” Chrissie mutters, then tips her head back toward me. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah, baby.” I place my hand against her lower back and lead her to the door, where she already has her overnight bag waiting. I take it from her when she picks it up, then take her up to my place. And since I’m not one to miss an opportunity, I jump in the shower with her, where we spend more time than we should before we get ready for dinner with her family.





Suggestion 15

JUST KEEP FALLING

CHRISSIE

I watch from the front door of Gaston’s condo as he slips on his jacket while he tells my brother and Sam good night. They’re sitting on the couch in the living room, each holding a beer. Dinner with him, Mom, Chris, and Sam went great. Mom was her new happy self, and Chris and Sam were both visibly relieved to see just how content she was. Mom spent most of dinner talking about the places the cruise ship was stopping and asking questions about Anna, whom I officially hired after she spent the day working with me.

Then the night got better when, during dessert, my brother and Sam told Mom about their plans to get married and adopt. Mom, like me, couldn’t hold back her excitement at hearing the good news and got up, leaving behind her chocolate molten cake to give both guys a hug and to demand through her tears that she get to be there for the wedding, even if it was at a courthouse.

With laughter, they both agreed, and after that, she sat down and called the waiter over to order a bottle of champagne. Being the lightweight she is, she got drunk off two glasses, so after Gus argued with my brother about the bill, won, and paid it, he and I drove Mom home while Sam and Chris followed in her car.

When we arrived at her place, we all walked Mom—who had sobered on the ride—inside, and she decided it was time to pull out the photo albums and show Gus embarrassing pictures of me. We all had a good laugh as she walked him through my childhood, and although I held my breath whenever she came across a photo of my dad, I was impressed she didn’t even flinch, even though I did every single time.

Gus, being Gus, noticed the first time it happened and pulled me onto his lap, where he would kiss my shoulder or give my waist a comforting squeeze anytime it happened again. By the time Mom got to my high school album, she was yawning, so once she finished showing Gus my worst two phases—those being me as a hippie and a goth—we left her to go to bed so she could catch her flight in the morning.

When we got back to our building with my brother and Sam, Gus told them he had to get ready to leave for work, so they decided to come up to his place with us so they could hang with me for a while after he left.

Now I’m standing next to the door, hating that he’s leaving, even after I’ve spent the last several hours with him.

“Are you going to be okay sleeping here without me tonight?”

At Gaston’s question, I jump and tip my head back toward him, shaking off my wayward thoughts. “I should be,” I say, and his expression softens as he pulls me against him, then lowers his face toward mine.

“Call me before you run off into the night with LeFou. I’ll have my phone on.”

“You mean text,” I correct, resting my hands against his chest.

“No.” He gives me a squeeze. “I mean use your cell phone’s full potential and actually call me if you’re scared.”

“Fine.” I pretend to sound put out. “I’ll call you before I run away with your dog.”

“Thank you.” He smiles.

As I study his smile, I lean into him, then tell him softly, “Thank you for being so awesome. Tonight was perfect.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” He brushes his lips gently over mine, then leans back to look into my eyes while tightening his hold on me. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“You’ll see me in the morning,” I agree, right before he covers my mouth with his and kisses me deeply. When he pulls away, I force myself to let him go, even though I don’t want him to leave. And then I give him a small wave as he steps out of his apartment, and I shut the door.

Hearing scratching, I look down and find LeFou pawing at the door. I bend to pick him up, and once I have him against my chest, he licks my jaw. “He’ll be back,” I say, turning toward the living room, and my steps falter when I find both Chris and Sam smiling at me. “What?” I narrow my eyes on the two of them.

“Nothing.” My brother grins. “We’re just happy for you.”

“Really happy for you,” Sam confirms.

Feeling content warmth filling my veins, I walk to the couch and take a seat with LeFou, and Chris comes over to sit next to me.

“He’s good for you,” my brother says, wrapping his arm around my shoulders as Sam gets up to look around. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so content or relaxed.”

“That’s not surprising, since I’ve never felt like I do when I’m with him,” I tell him honestly.

“That’s love.” His expression softens in understanding, and I rest my head against his shoulder, thinking he’s right.

“Seriously, this place is amazing,” Sam says a few minutes later, coming back toward the couch. “I mean, it needs some color, but I’m sure when you move in here you’ll fix that.”