Roseville Romance
Copyright
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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.
Roseville Romance The Alpha-Kissed Series Books 1-4 Copyright 2020 Lorelei M. Hart
ISBN: 978-1-68361-423-4
Editor Wizards in Publishing
Cover design by Fantasia Frog Designs
Published by Decadent Publishing LLC
Blurb
Dating is out for omegas like me, at least, I’ve made it my rule. An alpha craves an omega who can give him a family. And I’m just fine with my life. My work as a freelance photographer makes it possible for me to give the kids I take in lots of time, something they need and deserve. Most of them haven’t had an easy life. And Robbie...my current foster child needs my love and care more than any of the others so far. I thought I had it all figured out, but meeting Patrick has thrown me for a loop.
Patrick deserves more than a lesser omega, a broken shell of who I should be. But I can’t help myself. His searing looks plus that signature pumpkin spice scent demand I pay attention. Pursue him. See if there is a chance he could be mine.
Autumn brings with it cooler days, but with Patrick in my life, the nights only grow hotter.
The Alpha’s Autumn-Kissed Omega
By
Lorelei M. Hart
Chapter One
Patrick Chen, DDS
The door closed behind the last little patient of the day, and I slipped out of my lab coat and dropped it in the laundry bin with a sigh. My receptionist, Hal, flashed me the grin that melted the boxers of every alpha at the Moonlight Lounge where he worked four nights a week as a piano player. I had no idea why he even still worked for me because from what I’d seen the one night he’d lured me into the retro place, his tips far surpassed the paltry salary he earned here at the clinic. But he said he wouldn’t give up seeing all the little faces every day for any amount of money.
Family Smiles was the only clinic in town that accepted all forms of insurance, meaning, we accepted the minimal coverage given to those on public assistance as well as our other clients. But doing so kept our profit margin slim, a fact Hal knew well—since he was also the bookkeeper.
“You should come to the lounge tonight,” he said as I passed his counter. “Friday nights are busy, and…”
Sighing was becoming a habit as I let another escape. “I don’t have the energy to cook dinner, much less to go out and pick up someone tonight. You know I’m not into one-night stands anyway.”
Hal clicked a few keys and shut down his computer then reached for his brown suede jacket—something bought with tips for sure. “Who says it would be a one-night stand? The omega for you is out there somewhere, you know. Maybe he’ll be at the Moonlight Lounge tonight.”
“Sure. And he’ll be wearing a sign that says I belong to Patrick Chen DDS. We’ll sing a few songs over your piano and then glide off into the night to live happily ever after.”
Hal came around the counter and strolled behind me toward the back door. “Maybe not. But you aren’t going to find your happily ever after unless you get out of the house sometime. Because your omega isn’t going to come knocking there...probably.” He flipped off the lights.
“Maybe I’m going to marry the UPS delivery guy.” I grabbed my down vest from the coat rack and held the door open for my receptionist then locked up behind us. “It could happen.”
“Except the delivery person for your home is the same one as here...and is a woman named Marge who has been married for thirty-five years to a guy named Albert and has six kids—”
“How do you know all this?” I shoved my keys in my pocket and donned the vest, zipping it up since the fall evening was chilly.
“I talk to people. You might try it.”
Yeesh, what kind of a reputation did I have? “I talk to people all day. Moms and dads and kids. By the time I leave, I’m hoarse. What I need is the peace and quiet of home. Not a rowdy lounge full of alphas and omegas on the make.”
Hal clicked his car door unlocked and gave me a sad headshake. “You’re hopeless, you know that? I don’t know why I even try.”
“Well, you’re at that club four nights a week, and I don’t see you arm in arm with your omega.”
He slid into the seat of his car, which was nicer than mine. “The difference is, I don’t want to settle down yet.”
“What makes you think I do?”
His smile held an embarrassing amount of pity. “I work with you every day. I see how you look at the happy families. You’re ready. You just need to get out there so he can find you.” Hal pulled the door closed and gave a wave as he sailed out of the parking lot.
I pulled my collar up and started down the sidewalk toward home. The stiff breeze swirled leaves around my feet and the low sun reminded me of how short the days were becoming as fall settled in. My favorite season, I loved everything about it. When I came to the corner, instead of taking my usual route, I veered left toward the coffeehouse for a pumpkin-spice coffee to celebrate the season.
A few minutes later, I exited the warm, coffee-and-cinnamon scented shop with the cup in my right hand. In my left, I held a bag with a half-dozen sugar cookies decorated to look just like pumpkins. Who needed a night in a club when they could go home, drink delicious coffee, and nibble cookies while catching up on industry journal reading. I’d done the club scene in my twenties. I didn’t want to do it in my thirties. Plus, I had office hours on Saturday, so I couldn’t be out till all hours. How Hal managed it, I’d never know.
After all, despite what Hal said, if my omega was in a club, looking for me, wouldn’t I have found him already? I had a good life. A great practice with patients who made me smile every day. A good staff with Hal and Suzi my dental assistant as well as the hygienist who came in a few days a week. And my house...perched on the side of the hill I was about to climb, a rather unique structure that had come with an indoor pool.
I was happy.
I was!
But who was I trying to convince?
Lost in thought, I almost tripped over a man crouched on the sidewalk in front of a huge pile of leaves. A camera with a long lens hid most of his face, but what I could see I liked. Handsome, mid-twenties with hair short on the sides and longer on top. It blew in the wind, and he reached up so shove it back as he called, “Now!”
Teetering over him, I jerked back when the pile of leaves exploded, and suddenly there were children everywhere. Cute kids of all ages, I didn’t even know how many, but they were shouting and waving their arms and the photographer was snapping shot after shot of the wild rumpus before him. Streetlights behind us snapped on, and he muttered what might have been a curse but kept taking pictures until one of his subjects yelled, “Dr. Chan,” and came flying toward me to fling his arms around my legs and hang on. I lifted my arms high to avoid spilling coffee or dropping the cookies as the photographer finally stood, stretching his back.
“Robbie, back in the shot. We’ve already lost most of the light.” He lowered the camera and gave me a smile that made my stomach clench and heart speed up. “Sorry. I gather he knows you?”
How happy should it make me that a complete stranger was tal
king to me? “I’m his dentist.”
“You must be terrific at your job. I have never had any desire to hug my dentist’s legs.”
Maybe I could convince him to hug this dentist? The image of him kneeling in front of me with his arms wrapped around my thighs flashed through my mind, and I shoved it away. “I have terrific patients. Right, Robbie?”
“Are those cookies?”
Grabbing the excuse to send him away so I could talk a little with the omega who was changing lenses on his camera, I handed him the bag. “Share with your friends okay? And don’t tell anyone your dentist is handing out sugar.”
As the little boy zoomed back to the pile of leaves, the other man laughed. “Or eating it, right? I had the impression men in your field avoided things that cause tooth decay. Like...do I smell pumpkin spice?”
“I gave away the cookies. You will have to get your own coffee.” Although I had no doubt I’d hand it over if he asked. “And for the record, I do eat sugar from time to time, but then I brush my teeth.”
“And floss?”
“Sure.” But this was not the conversation I wanted to be having with this man. I wanted to sit down and talk, get to know him...but he probably had someone. And it had been so long since I’d even tried to date someone, I barely remembered how to go about it. As I was trying to think of what to say next, a fight broke out over the last cookie, and the photographer darted toward them.
“Hey, enough of that. I’ll buy you all cookies if you’ll just settle down, okay?”
I stood there on the sidewalk for a few minutes watching him work, but soon began to feel awkward.
With another one of those sighs, I headed on toward the hillside street leading up to my home. I was making too much out of a chance encounter. But Robbie had an appointment soon. And kids loved to talk, anything to delay dental work.
Chapter Two
Damon Wright
Robbie and I went home after the sun went down. He munched on cookies, one bite at a time, closing his eyes. The kid cracked me up, but also saddened me.
“You like cookies, I see.”
He nodded and sat on the barstool at the kitchen counter. I opened up a cabinet and grabbed a glass before filling it up to the top with milk. “Better with this,” I slid it toward him.
“Thanks, Mr. Wright.”
He killed me calling me by Mr. Wright. I was his foster parent. Then again, it was better than some of the others I’d taken in who had no respect.
“Call me Damon, Robbie. Homework done?” I asked, knowing it wasn’t. Robbie’s teacher and I emailed frequently about his progress. With his home environment in a shambles, coupled with the lack of nutrition and even hygiene, Robbie’s schoolwork and attention in class severely lacked, and therefore by the time I got him, he was behind on all things.
“It’s only Friday.”
I nodded, remembering pushing the same argument at my parents and getting nowhere fast. “Exactly. Tomorrow we have hiking with your Cub Scout pack and then we’re going to the corn maze. My dad used to say that we get our homework done on Friday night so that it’s not a cloud over our weekend. Bring it down. I’ll help you.”
He sighed and gave up on his third cookie while I tried to pretend I wasn’t elated about him having enough sugar for the day. “It’s math and spelling.”
Oh, math. My nemesis.
“It’s just multiplication. We’ve got this. I’ll clean up, and you go get your backpack. Let’s kick some trash!”
Robbie’s eyes widened, maybe he was thinking I was going to say the other word.
The kid had endured a lifetime worth of fighting, cursing, and gods knew what else at the hand of his genetic parents already. No need to add to it.
“Can—can I say that?”
“Kick some trash? Of course. Say it with me.”
We both repeated the phrase, and his little face grew red like he’d said the real word.
After two hours, we were finally done. The math of today and the math of my day were two very different animals, and they both sucked.
Spelling was a breeze, and Robbie got them all right after only the second round of flashcards. He was a smart kid—anyone could see it.
He put everything in his backpack, and we walked together to the front door to hang it on his hook. “I have to have my list for tomorrow. Scoutmaster said.”
He meant the list of things to pack for the hike. “It’s right here by the calendar.”
I kept two folders by the calendar near the front of the house, one for my stuff and one for his.
“Here,” I handed it to him and made an opera sound as though I were presenting him with an Oscar.
“You’re weird, not like the other foster parents.”
I clutched my hand to my heart and stumbled backward, showing him the real weird. “You—you slay me.”
Robbie looked at his list. “See? Weird.” But I could see him trying not to smile. He would have to be chiseled at, this boy with the steel wall. Good thing I was persistent.
“Wait! We forgot the mail!” Robbie shouted, and went to unlock the door. We tried to have a routine at night, somewhat. We went through the mail together. We looked at the calendar to see the events coming up. We did homework.
You know, exciting things.
I waited on the floor while he rose on tiptoe to reach the bronze mailbox next to the door and fished out a few envelopes and some sale papers and handed them to me. “Here you go. Anything for me?”
I went through them but couldn’t look at the disappointment in his eyes. His father had promised in court to send him letters, but we’d not gotten a single one, even after Robbie sent him several in prison. “Nope. But you can read mine. This one is from the photography contest I entered.”
I closed my eyes tight and crossed my fingers, trying to act like the weird guy he thought I was.
“Dear Mr. Wright, we regret to inform you that your photo…”
I sighed and tried not to listen to the rest.
“P.S. On a personal note, I think you could use some inspiration. Sincerely, Dennis Ingrams.”
“He said that?” I asked, taking the sheet of paper and reading it myself. They complimented me on my technique and other things, but said I lacked passion.
They weren’t wrong.
“You lost, huh? Bummer.”
“It’s okay. Just a small county entry. No biggie. So, what’s on that list?”
The two of us went to the basement and sorted through my old Boy Scout stuff until we found most of the things on the list. I dug out my old hiking backpack.
“Did you know that once, when I was younger, I hiked a trail that was 2400 miles long?”
Robbie turned up his nose at me. “You did not.”
“Grab your pack and the rest of the stuff, and I’ll grab mine, and I’ll show you something.”
We hefted the equipment up the stairs and to my office. I showed him the map I was proud of when I was younger, the one that now made me regret some of my wasted life. I supposed everyone had some regret about wasted time.
It’s not like I could just settle down with an alpha and have a life. Being me couldn’t be so simple.
The man from yesterday, the dentist, Dr. Chan, smelled like home to me, warm and cozy, somewhere to feel safe and wanted.
But I wasn’t stupid or naive. No one wanted an omega like me—a useless omega if there ever was one.
“See here? I started in Georgia and went all the way up to Maine.” I glided my finger up the Appalachian Trail, stopping where I recognized towns and mountains along the way.
With both hands on his straps, he hiked up his pack. “I’m gonna walk that trail someday.”
I ruffled his hair. “You do that. Let’s write it in your goal book.”
He went to the bookshelf and grabbed his journal, one of several he kept at the advice of the counselor he saw once a week. One was for goals. One was for hopes. And the other was in his room, the private one that
no one could see, not even his counselor. He needed something that belonged only to him.
“What about you? You have to write a goal, too.”
I nodded, taking mine from the shelf and sitting cross-legged on the floor. We wrote goals together when he first came to my home. I’d done it to make him feel safe. But now he wanted me to sit with him every time.
I just didn’t have that many goals.
“To win one photo contest,” I wrote and talked out loud.
“To walk the Appa…” He stood and wrote the word with his journal perched against the wall for leverage and a flat surface while he spelled it out.
While I listened to him finish up the words, I flipped back in the journal. I’d kept it since I was a teen and my goals sure had changed, rather life had changed them for me.
I swallowed against the tears as I wrote the first entry.
Find my alpha and have a big family just like mine.
“Robbie, you’ve been here about six months, haven’t you? It must be time for a dental checkup, right?”
Chapter Three
Patrick
After a Sunday of thrilling TV watching and flipping through more journals, I was at least rested when I arrived at the office. I came in the back door, as usual, Hal was behind his counter, and from the amount of chatter leaking in from the waiting room, we had a busy day ahead of us. “Who’s first?”
“Suzi already has—” The phone buzzed, and he lifted a finger. “Family Smiles where kids’ smiles come first. How can I help you?” Hal arched a brow and I shrugged. He was trying out different greetings, but we hadn’t picked one yet. “Robbie Smith? Well, let me check our records.” He tapped his keyboard and brought up the file on the screen. “Yes, I see he’s due for a checkup, but the reminder we sent to his foster home was returned. What’s that? Oh, great! We’ll be very glad to see him and you, Mr. Wright.” He flipped to his calendar and scanned it. “Would you be able to bring Robbie in next week?”