Page 9 of A Hutch for Hoover (Omegas of Animals #15)

Hoover

I never really thought of making smoothies as an art form, or anything particularly special for that matter.

I figured people just threw mixes and some cut-up fruit in a blender, mixed it all up, and served them.

Done. I figured it was kind of like when you ordered those fancy frozen coffee drinks and they poured the mix with ice and charged a bunch.

But, watching my mate as he combined fresh ingredients in a way that wowed every single person who stopped by his table was whoa.

Grant had offered to leave as soon as we scented each other and figured out the cause of my discomfort—me jumping to conclusions—but I didn’t want that for him.

He was at Community Days to network, and I wasn’t going to get in the way of that.

I made the excuse that I wanted to meet people, too, which I had considered before I scented him, so it wasn’t a lie.

But, even as I walked around and talked to multiple people, my eyes were never far from him.

My rabbit did not love me visiting other tables, especially those with alphas and omegas who weren’t mated. But I’d waited all these years to find the omega who was mine, and I could wait a few more hours to let him grow his business and maybe grow mine, too.

The way his scent bopped around the parking lot was starting to make sense—everybody, and I meant everybody, in that place was holding a smoothie cup. At some point or another, they’d been to his table and left with a delicious treat in hand. He was the highlight of the event.

And I was proud to call him mine. Or soon to be mine, depending on your definition.

I did manage to get a few business cards from some places who were interested in discussing consignment with me.

But I didn’t have my A game on. Or my B game.

Or my C game. Aside from showing some random, not-well-done pictures on my phone and blabbing half distracted, I didn’t do anything right when it came to marketing myself.

I didn’t have flyers.

I didn’t have a website.

I didn’t even have a business card, and there was something really unprofessional about writing your name and number on a random napkin to hand to a potential business partner.

But, being in shifter spaces did have some benefit. More than one person I met said something along the lines of, “I see how it is,” and looked in the direction my gaze kept drifting. They had their marks to prove they really did get it.

Had this been a human-only Community Days, I wouldn’t have come close to the small success I managed. I’d look to them like someone who didn’t care enough to focus on the conversation at hand. And there was a little of that here, but not at all on the same level.

Now the event was finally over, the lights bright again, everybody packing up their tables. I was with Grant, helping him put everything away.

There wasn’t any food left. He’d made the last smoothie a half hour earlier and sent his helpers off via rideshare to dart night.

There weren’t a lot of menus or business cards left either, a handful at most. But we got what was left packed into his totes, stacked a few empty bins together, and, just as we were about done, Karma came over.

She was the owner of the club. Or maybe she was mated to the owner, which I guess made her the owner.

I hadn’t heard of her before tonight, but around here, she was queen of the universe.

After meeting her only briefly, I could see why.

She was fabulous and surprisingly human…

I thought. Something just below the surface said she might possibly be more, but it would be rude to ask.

“How’d everything work out?” she asked Grant with a wink.

And it wasn’t a sexy kind of wink. It was the I know what’s going on version. Coming from her, there was no creepiness to it—it was actually sweet.

“Beyond my wildest dreams. You were right,” he said. “Thanks for helping me out. And for inviting me tonight.”

“I do what I do.” She gave a half wave and kept on moving.

I’d have to ask Grant about what all she did besides the invite, later. For now, all I wanted was for the two of us to get out of there, and find someplace where we could talk about what was happening and where to go next. Fine, I wanted to talk with our bodies, but same difference.

I stacked everything up on his foldable dolly, and he rolled it around to his vehicle. It didn’t take long at all to load everything.

“Where’s your car?” he asked, holding my hand.

“I came here with friends and, when we realized it was Community Days, they left for dart night as well, and I hung around hoping to network.” I pressed my forehead to his. “When I opened the door, I scented you—better than networking. I was just gonna take a rideshare back.”

“You were?” I think that’s what he mumbled, anyway. I hated that I needed to match his face with the words with the wind blowing as it was. He pulled back. “I have a better idea.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” I had ideas too and all of them involved privacy.

“Wanna come back to my place?”

“Obviously, yes.” And then I did something I’d never done in my life. I leaned in and kissed him.

I wasn’t a prude. Or weirdly purity-focused. I’d just never wanted to kiss someone before. And with Grant, there was nothing I wanted more.

It was just a soft touch of lips, but Grant deepened it, and my arms wrapped around him and his around me. If we kept going like this, we weren’t going to make it home. And I wanted to make it home. Wanted to be in his space, just he and I.

When the kiss broke, both of us were breathless. He held on to me a few more seconds before meeting my eyes and saying it was time to leave.

His place wasn’t far. And it was a gazillion times better than mine. Did I know this for fact? Not really, but it had to be. The bar was low.

“Do you wanna shift first?” he asked as he unlocked the door. “My wolf really wants to meet your rabbit.”

I shook my head. “I don’t shift at night.”

I took his hand, opened it up in front of me, then pulled off my hearing aids, one at a time, and placed them in it.

“These are my ears,” I said. “When they’re not in, I can’t hear. My rabbit can’t hear, either.”

He looked at the devices. Then back at me. Then pointed at my ears.

He wanted them back in.

He wanted me to hear him.

“It can wait,” he said, placing his hand on my cheek when they were finally in place.

I leaned into his touch.

“Don’t worry about it. My wolf can simmer down and be patient. And besides…” His thumb stroked over my cheek. “There are a lot of things I’d rather do than shift right now. All of which require you and I getting naked.”

“You don’t care that I’m broken?”

“I wouldn’t say I don’t care. I know it has to be hard for you, and that’s not something I love. But it doesn’t change that you’re mine. And I’m yours. And I want you exactly the way you are.”

He kissed me again, soft and sweet.

“We’ll talk later”—another kiss—“about how you’re not broken. But right now”—he rubbed his nose against mine playfully—“I think we should take this to the bedroom.”

I wasn’t going to argue with him on that.