Page 24 of Mating With My Grumpy Alphas (Hollow Haven #2)
“I need you to know that what I feel for you isn’t just appreciation for your art or protective instincts about your wellness needs.
” His voice was soft but steady, like he’d been planning these words for weeks.
“I care about you. About your happiness. I care about you in ways that have nothing to do with professional support and everything to do with recognizing someone extraordinary when I see her.”
Someone extraordinary. Not someone with potential to become extraordinary with the right guidance, but someone who already was.
The honesty in his admission, the way he looked at me like I was precious and worth celebrating, made my heart race with something that felt like hope and desire and recognition all at once.
“I care about you too,” I said, the words coming easily.
He didn't want to fix me or change me, he just wanted to stand by my side while I figured it out for myself. He wanted to be the person I could lean on if I needed him.
The space between us seemed charged with possibility and nervous energy and the kind of attraction that built slowly through understanding rather than instant chemistry.
His hand was still covering mine, warm and careful, like he was asking permission for increased intimacy without pushing for more than I was ready to give.
“Tomorrow night,” he said quietly, “after your artistic triumph, after people have recognized your talent properly, would you like to have dinner with me? Not as healer and client, but as two people who care about each other and want to explore what that might mean?”
A real date, with romantic intentions acknowledged and mutual interest clearly established.
“Yes,” I said, surprised by how easily the acceptance came. “I’d like that very much.”
“Good.” His smile was warm and genuine, carrying none of the territorial satisfaction Sterling would have shown at securing my agreement. “Something quiet where we can talk without distractions. Where you can tell me about how it felt to watch people appreciate your work.”
“Elias,” I said softly, testing the feeling of his name in this new romantic context.
“Yes?”
Instead of answering with words, I stepped closer, closing the space between us until I could smell the full complexity of his bourbon and cedar signature. Until I could see the flecks of green in his brown eyes, the way his breath caught slightly as he realized what I was about to do.
I reached up to cup his face with my free hand. My heart racing even as it felt like the world stood completely still for us.
The kiss was soft and careful and charged with weeks of building attraction and emotional intimacy.
His lips were warm against mine, tasting faintly of the chamomile tea we’d shared, and when he kissed me back it was with the same patience and attention he brought to everything else.
He was completely focused on the moment without rushing toward what came next.
His hand slipped around my waist as he held me close and I leaned closer not wanting there to be anything that could separate us in this moment.
When we broke apart, both breathing slightly harder, his forehead rested against mine while we processed what had just shifted between us.
“Tomorrow night,” he said quietly, “I’m going to watch you shine in front of people who recognize your talent. And then I’m going to take you to dinner and listen to you talk about how it felt to reclaim something that was taken from you.”
“Perfect,” I whispered, meaning it completely.
“Let me walk you home,” Elias said, his voice carrying a gentle authority that made something flutter in my chest. It wasn’t a question, but it wasn’t a demand either. Somewhere in between that made my omega instincts respond with warm approval.
I nodded, not trusting my voice after the soft intensity of our kiss. He helped me into my jacket with careful hands, his fingers brushing the back of my neck as he lifted my hair free from the collar. The simple touch sent awareness skittering down my spine.
The October night was crisp and clear, our breath visible in small puffs as we walked through Hollow Haven’s quiet streets.
Elias stayed close enough that his bourbon and cedar scent surrounded me, but he didn’t rush to fill the comfortable silence with unnecessary conversation.
His presence felt steady and protective without being overwhelming.
“Thank you,” I said as we turned onto my street, “for understanding what I needed tonight.”
“Thank you for letting me provide it,” he replied quietly.
When we reached my front porch, I expected him to say goodnight and leave.
Instead, he turned to face me, his hands coming up to frame my face with a certainty that made my breath catch.
The amber porch light cast warm shadows across his features, and his eyes held something intense and patient all at once.
“Willa,” he said, my name carrying weight I’d never heard before.
Before I could respond, his mouth was on mine, and this kiss was nothing like the careful exploration we’d shared in his apothecary. This was claiming and thorough, his hands holding me exactly where he wanted me while his lips moved against mine with confident heat.
My omega instincts responded immediately, melting into his touch as he deepened the kiss.
There was something about the way he held me.
Firm but not harsh, directing but not controlling.
It made every nerve ending come alive. He kissed me like he had every right to be there, like he’d been thinking about this moment for weeks and had no intention of rushing through it now that it was finally happening.
When his tongue swept across my lower lip, I opened for him without hesitation, a soft sound escaping my throat that made him pull me closer against his chest. His scent intensified, carrying notes of arousal and satisfaction that made my knees weak.
He backed me gently against my front door, his body creating a warm shelter around me while his mouth worked magic against mine. One hand stayed cupped against my jaw, thumb stroking over my cheekbone, while the other settled at my waist with possessive certainty.
“I’ve been wanting to do that properly,” he murmured against my lips when we finally broke apart, both breathing hard.
I could only stare at him, lips tingling and heart racing from the intensity of his attention. This was what it felt like to be claimed by an alpha who knew exactly what he wanted and had the patience to make sure I wanted it too.
“Tomorrow night,” he said, pressing one more soft kiss to the corner of my mouth, “after your exhibition, I’m taking you somewhere quiet where I can kiss you like that without worrying about scandalized neighbors.”
The promise in his voice, the way he looked at me like I was something he intended to thoroughly enjoy, made heat pool low in my belly.
“Goodnight, Willa,” he said, stepping back with obvious reluctance.
“Goodnight,” I managed, my voice barely above a whisper.
I watched him walk away, noting the confident set of his shoulders and the way he glanced back once to make sure I’d made it safely inside. Only when his footsteps faded completely did I finally close my door and flip the lock, my lips still tingling from the intensity of his kiss.
Standing in my darkened living room, I touched my mouth where I could still feel the pressure of his lips, still taste the faint sweetness of chamomile tea mixed with something entirely him. Tomorrow night couldn’t come fast enough.