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I do not date clients, I told myself.It makes things confusing for them and they deserve the best experience possible.

No matter what my omega instincts were screaming at me.

He smelled like a long walk in the dark woods, like listening to an Evermore West song.

“You were expecting a matronly aunt?” I stirred the coffee. “Most people do. I could hunt down my sister if you’d like. She’s not matronly, but she definitely has the ‘all work and no play’ vibe down.”

“Oh no,” he said quickly. “You’re perfect.”

I walked over to the couch, holding out his cup. I didn’t trust myself to sit next to him, not if I wanted to behave.

“What should we expect from the matching process? You could give me all the dirt on how the packs are doing it wrong.”

“I’ll go over it more when your omega gets here, but we’ve matched you with compatible people.” I realized I’d alreadydecided to take them from Stella or Terran, whoever had been assigned them.

“Would you like to sit?” Ben shifted.

“Sure,” I said, still holding out the coffee. “Did you want your coffee or…”

“Oh.” Ben gave me a boyish look, like he’d been caught in trouble. “You’re going to be mad about not having your files again.” He nudged a white cane with his foot. It was propped against the side table, right there, but I hadn’t noticed it until right then. “I’m blind. I’m going to need you to hand me the coffee.”

“Oh.” I sat down quickly. “I’m sorry. I should have realized.”

“Without any visual cues since I’m sitting down?” Ben chuckled. “How could you? It’s fine.” He held out his hand, and I put the white Styrofoam cup directly into his palm.

His fingers were long and tapered, and butterflies fluttered through me at the contact. It felt more intimate than handing someone a cup, and I waited until he took it with both hands before letting go. The last thing I needed to do was to drop it all in his lap.

Of course, then he would have to strip down, and suddenly that didn’t seem like such a bad idea. My lemon vanilla perfume rose at the thought, and Ben made a small noise in his throat, part growl, part purr.

I scooted further away from him, giving myself an entire cushion’s worth of space between us. A couch no longer seemed like a great idea. Raina insisted it made our guests feel more comfortable with the matching process, like they were in a living room, but around this alpha?

A couch was dangerous.

I cleared my throat. “I don’t have your files, and I don’t know what you and your omega are looking for. But I’m sure my cousin Stella already has some matches in line for you.”

A male omega entered the room, smelling like smoky oak and amber, and it complemented Ben’s scent so well I went lightheaded. They had to have been bonded for years to smell that much like each other.

“Hey, Ben.” He looked at me, and I waited to see if I would feel threatened by another omega, even if that omega was already bonded to Ben. Omega biology was fickle, and I wasn’t sure if lightning could strike twice.

If anything, I was more interested in how they would smell together than feeling territorial over Ben. Or how Rian would look naked.

“I’m Ember,” I said, standing up.

The omega walked into the room without a cane, and walked around the coffee table, so I went ahead and assumed he wasn’t visually impaired.

“I’m Rian.” He kept looking at Ben, who was giving him a wide grin. No shame or guilt for flirting with me, so they must be okay with adding to their pack.

“Ember’s going to help us,” Ben said. “She works for Cosmic Bonds.”

“Really?” He looked me up and down, assessing. His eyes flicked to the bit of white scar peeking through my quarter-length shirt, and I braced myself for him to stare or, worse, ask what happened.

Instead, he looked back up at my face, like my scar was noted but not important. A point in his favor.

He lifted his chin. “You’re going to help us find some bondmates?”

The other omega made it sound like a challenge, like it was a tall ask to find someone to bond these beautiful men who smelled like heaven.

His hair was curly and long, pulled back into a man bun. He had brown eyes and was super pale, the sort of skin thatturned lobster red with the barest hint of the sun. He could have given my older brother a run for his money in the soulful poet department, with his blue jeans and green flannel.