Page 1 of With A Little Luck

Quincy

M y stomach wobbles as I glance between Donna, my gran’s care nurse, and the front door.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” I ask, running my hands down the sides of my dress.

God, I really need a night to myself, but if she says no, I’ll change back into my pajamas and binge terrible reality TV.

I might cry if that comes to pass.

I’ll still do it, though.

I’m starting to get a twinge of caregiver burnout, and I don’t even have it all that bad.

Donna chuckles, rolling her dark brown eyes. “I can take care of her as easily at night as I can during the day.” She shrugs. “It helps that I don’t have to work tomorrow. Go on, get out of here. You deserve a night to yourself.”

She points at the front door, and my teeth dig into my lower lip. I had no idea how hard being a caregiver would be. My mom and her parents were never particularly close, and she wasn’t willing to come to Vermont to look after Gran, so I did.

It’s been okay.

A little awkward, since I grew up in Florida and only got to see her a few times throughout my childhood.

But that’s what families are supposed to do, right?

You look out for each other.

Gran is the last one left in her family pack, and losing her last bondmate six months ago was rough. Physically, she’s still trucking along, but emotionally, it’s clear she’s ready to be with my grandpas.

I thought I would come and support Gran until her time comes, then take my backside right back to Florida.

I never planned to meet anyone while I was here.

I’m not sure I’m hardcore enough to brave the Vermont winter, but meeting Pete made me question if maybe I could tough it out.

When Gran needed less help, I was able to see him two or three nights a week. The last two months, I’ve barely been able to get away, at least at night. Five days a week, Donna is at the house to help out, but Pete works during the day, making coordinating our schedules difficult.

He’s been distant the last few weeks—maybe longer, if I’m being truthful with myself.

My plan to swing by his office at closing to invite him out to dinner, just the two of us, seemed fun at first. Now, I’m nervous. What if he thinks I’m a total weirdo for dropping by unannounced?

“You better get your rear end in gear before you procrastinate for so long that you miss him,” Donna says, startling me out of my thoughts.

“Thank you. Call me if you need anything .” And with that, I bolt toward the door.

Leaving the house tonight was my first mistake.

I had a bad feeling, and that pit in my gut was right. I never should have second-guessed my intuition.

I swipe my hand under my eyes, frowning at the mascara smudging the side of my pointer finger.

Crying is ridiculous.

Embarrassing, really.

Pete and I weren’t together long enough for it to even matter.

My head shakes violently as I try to force away the image of what I walked in on when I showed up to surprise him.

Honestly, this is a good thing.

I’d much rather know now that he’s an unfaithful dick than to learn it years down the road.

I can’t believe I considered staying here just to be with him.

My hand wraps around the metal door handle, and a whoosh of air smacks me in the face. It’s loud before I even take a step inside the bar, but I refuse to go back to Gran’s house to cry alone.

I’m sure the beautiful blonde who was on her knees for Pete is busy wiping away his nonexistent tears.

I need a beer or two, but definitely not three. Then I’ll call a rideshare, grab some greasy takeout, and eat it at home in bed while lamenting all men are garbage.

Okay, fine.

Not all men.

Just Pete.

Okay, maybe it is all men.

I thought the red eyes, mascara stains, and general please don’t approach me energy I’ve been exuding would get the point across.

I’m clearly not interested, but the two guys who haven’t left me alone since I sat down at the bar don’t seem to be picking up what I’m putting down.

“Come on, darlin’, let us help cheer you up,” the guy on my right says, leaning even closer to my barstool.

His friend took the seat to my left, and he’s a little too close for comfort. They both are, actually. No part of me enjoys being pinned in with one of them on either side.

Their scents aren’t appealing to my senses, but they must be drawn to mine.

It’s the curse of being an omega.

Well, that and having to deal with heats every three months.

I’ve taken suppressants on and off since my first heat started when I was twenty, but they’ve been noticeably less effective lately. As soon as everything is handled here in Vermont, I’m going to have to consider going to one of those omega centers to be matched.

And you almost let Pete talk you into going off suppressants.

How foolish do you feel now?

Huh, Quincy?

More than foolish.

I think I feel a little defeated. It’s not supposed to be this hard for an omega to find alphas, but I’ve had really shitty luck.

“Why don’t you let us take your mind off whatever has your panties in a twist?” the man on my left says with an obnoxious laugh.

I am nowhere near drunk enough for that.

Pushing my feet to the floor, I shove myself out of my barstool and push it back. “Excuse me. I need the restroom.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll watch your drink for you,” the guy on the right says.

No way in hell will I be touching that thing again.

I use the restroom, wash my hands, and try to pull up the rideshare app on my phone. Sadly, I have almost no signal in the bar, and the screen stays frozen until I get frustrated and give up. Peeking out the door, I give a cursory glance around.

It’s only a vague plan, but if they’re waiting for me, I intend to slam the door and lock it before they can get in. Only they aren’t lingering outside the bathroom.

At least, not anywhere that I can see from opening the door two inches and peeking around. Rolling my shoulders back, I give myself a mini pep talk. I can’t stay trapped in here forever, and if I take too long, they could come looking for me.

I exit the bathroom and head down the hallway until it spills into the weird area with the bar on my right and a few booths on my left. It’s less busy here than at the front of the bar, likely because the dance floor is in that direction.

I frown, stopping dead in my tracks.

The guys from earlier linger near the front edge of the bar. To get to the exit, I’ll have to walk right past them.

Dammit.

Why hasn’t anyone stepped in to ask them to stop being creepy assholes?

Probably because no one noticed .

Maybe if I had made a scene, someone would have interceded, but the last thing I need tonight is more drama.

Glancing around, I check for any new parties of women having a girl’s night.

I don’t care if it would be weird.

I would go over and join them.

Girl code says you take in any random woman being harassed by creeps. There’s safety in numbers, but I don’t see any groups of women.

I really should have stayed home tonight.

Okay, I guess I’m going to have to walk closer to the front and use my phone there while ignoring those guys. That, or go up to the bar and ask if they have a bouncer.

I take off down the corridor, but the men walk toward me at the exact same time.

A whimper escapes my lips.

I don’t know what to do, but my instincts scream to run. Spinning around, I prepare to hightail it back to the women’s room until I spot two men sitting at one of the booths on the wall.

The man on my left is huge, with broad shoulders and a plethora of tattoos covering his arms, neck, and chest—at least, what I can see around his T-shirt. He has short dark hair that’s longer on top and shaved close on the sides, stubble, and he’s wearing aviator sunglasses… inside the bar.

He looks more intimidating than the guys who won’t leave me alone, and that means he can scare them off.

The man laughs and says something to the guy across from him before tipping his beer to his thick lips.

I stumble up to the side of their table and slide into the booth next to the big guy. “I’m sorry to bother you. Can I sit here? Just long enough for those guys to leave me alone, then I promise I’ll go.”

“Of course you can.” His gaze darts between me and the guys who are still meandering closer. “Let’s move you over here. That way, if they decide to come say hello, I’m between you and them.”

I’m not expecting him to twist to the side and lift me, sliding me over his lap and placing me on the inside of the booth.

I squeak and awkwardly bump the table, but the man across from him keeps their beers from spilling.

“Ridge,” the big guy says, tossing his arm over the back of the booth. “That’s Knox.”

“Q-Quincy,” I stutter out as Ridge’s scent hits my nose.

It’s so complex that I can’t understand what I’m smelling at first. It’s like tobacco, but the pipe kind with hints of bergamot and leather…

He smells like the expensive cologne I sniffed at the mall and fell in love with.

Comparing his scent to what I remember reading on the info card is the only way I’m even able to pick out the different notes.

Shit, this might be a problem.

My nose is obsessed.

The overwhelming urge to turn and bury my face in his chest makes my cheeks heat.

Come on, suppressants. Don’t fail me now. You can hold out for a little while longer.

Waking up is a groggy experience.

For the first several seconds, I have no clue where I am or why I’m so warm, but God, am I comfortable.

Ridge’s scent hits my nose, and I bite my cheek to keep from cooing.

Cooing is a ridiculous sound omegas make when they’re content.

A cascade of memories comes back as consciousness creeps in.

Ridge and Knox in the bar.

The way Knox kept me company at the table while Ridge went to have a word with the two creepy guys. He brought me back a drink, and I decided to stay for a bit.

I remember Knox left, but Ridge asked if I wanted to stick around for a little longer.

We talked and laughed and drank and danced…

My eyes pop open, and light streams in the window of the hotel room.

Oh my god!

Gran!

I’m supposed to be home by now so Donna can leave. I only meant to close my eyes for a minute…

I guess I fell asleep.

It’s a slow process to extract myself from under Ridge’s arm, but I make it out of the bed without waking him.

My entire body is lazy and sore from a night of incredible sex. It makes it almost impossible to force myself to get dressed. Though I do because I have no other option.

Donna is going to be furious.

We never agreed on an exact time, but it was implied that I wouldn’t stay out until dawn.

I snatch up my shoes, link them over my fingers, and dig in my purse for a pen.

I don’t know if he’ll even want to see me again, but sneaking out without leaving him a way to contact me feels…wrong.

More than that?

Ridge was awesome company. He’s sexy, lighthearted, and he instantly put me at ease, despite my terrible night.

I’d love to see him again if we can find the time to make it work.

I don’t find a pen, but my phone buzzes, lighting up with a text.

Snatching it out of my bag, I see four missed calls and three texts from Donna, causing my jaw to fall.

The most recent message says, Call me as soon as you can.

My heart thumps wildly as my mind races.

She’s going to quit.

I pushed her kindness too far.

She has every right to be angry.

Tossing my purse over my shoulder, I head for the door and let myself out as my hands shake.

God, what a mess.

I pull the phone to my ear and take off down the hallway as my panic intensifies.

Donna is a great nurse.

We lucked out finding her.

I’ve already been struggling, even with her coming five days a week.

How in the world will I manage until we can find a replacement? The interviews last time were a nightmare. There’s no way I’ll find anyone who clicks with Gran as well as she does.

I never should have left the house last night, but I did, and now I have to live with the repercussions of my actions.

Pete’s office, the bar, and the hotel are all within a few blocks of each other, meaning my car isn’t far away. I was going to take a cab or rideshare last night, since I had been drinking, but I’m fine to drive myself now. Hopefully I can find the way to the parking lot without much trouble.

“Quincy?” Donna answers the call when I’m halfway down the hallway, and her tone says it all.

“What’s wrong?” I choke out, stopping to pull on my heels.

“Just get home safely. We’ll talk once you’re here.”