Page 9 of With A Little Luck

Chapter Eight

Trigg

M y plan to slowly woo Quincy into trusting me went to shit about the time I saw her boss in her living room last night. He didn’t even have the decency to carry her upstairs so she could sleep in her own bed, and I’m not sure if that saved him or sealed his fate.

He would have had no business being in her bedroom. Not that I do, either, but she’s so exhausted by the end of the day that she’s never noticed me.

That son of a bitch cost me a night curled up by her side. When she falls asleep in her own bed, she’s more comfortable. Or rather, as comfortable as she’s going to get at this stage of her pregnancy.

The floor creaks all throughout that old house, and while I have most of the floorboards memorized, I didn’t want to risk sneaking in and having her wake up because of the unusual circumstances.

Even if it killed me, I stayed away and watched her on the cameras instead, but now I’m wondering if skipping a night of cuddling might have had negative consequences for her health.

I’ve done more research about pregnancy than is probably natural.

Omegas need access to alphas while they gestate, or it can have negative consequences for their health.

Not to mention, how it can impact the baby.

“How about a bite of bacon,” I offer, placing down the fork and picking up a strip of meat.

“Okay.” Quincy nods and takes a small bite.

Seeing her eat directly from my hand sends a pang to my cock. It’s quite unsettling, but I’m growing more comfortable with my physical responses when it comes to this omega.

At first, I assumed she had to have an alpha or a pack. Omegas are meant to be coveted and protected, and I couldn’t understand why she would be working unless it was out of necessity.

My fumbled questions about her personal life produced no solid answers, and not knowing was beginning to drive me insane.

My entire goal in entering her home was to determine if she had any romantic partners.

However, once I was in her bedroom, her scent was too enticing to force myself to leave with haste.

Instead, I knelt by her bed and watched her sleep.

The experience wasn’t remotely sexual, yet my body reacted as if it was.

I’ve been around scent matches before and never had one spark an ounce of interest, but smelling Quincy’s electric scent changed something deep inside me.

My instincts wouldn’t let it go.

Not until I knew she was safe.

It’s been my excuse every night since when I slip in to lie next to her as she slumbers.

I can try to justify my bad behavior all day, but I don’t see Quincy being as enamored with my actions—even if my intentions are pure.

I’ve never stalked a woman before…

Let alone a heavily pregnant woman.

The little omega leans forward, grabs my cup, and takes a drink. Her stomach squishes against the table, and I fight the urge to cradle it with my hand.

I’ve only known her for a few weeks, but the baby grows more with every passing day. It’s quite out of character, and I still find myself giddy to meet the new human being Quincy is growing.

She grunts, pushing against my right arm as she leans back against the seat. “Man, in another week or two, I won’t even be able to fit into the booths anymore.”

I chuckle. “Then, I suppose we’ll have to switch to eating at one of the tables.”

Her face betrays her confusion as she opens for the bite of hash browns I offer, but she doesn’t fight my care.

This seems to bode well for the future. Then again, I’ve never been great at deciphering human interactions. Perhaps she’s just terrified of me like everyone else.

“I don’t plan to make this a regular occurrence, or I definitely wouldn’t blame Hart for firing me.” She laughs and takes another swig of my drink.

I’m suddenly parched.

The idea of being able to wrap my lips around the straw where her mouth has been is quite enticing. Once she’s done, I grab the glass and take a quick sip before placing it back down.

Quincy wiggles in her seat, and I try to determine if her hips are hurting or if she’s uncomfortable being this close to me. If it’s the latter, I need to determine how to be more personable…immediately. Connecting with others is something I’ve struggled with for my entire life.

I was skinny and small as a child, which led to merciless bullying. It never bothered me in the way it would others, and I often plotted revenge that I knew wouldn’t come to fruition, simply because I never could stomach the thought of leaving my mother all alone.

Growing up, her profession was an open secret at best, and none of the other parents wanted their children playing with the kid whose mother was a sex worker.

Still, I had a happy childhood.

My mother was loving and attentive, especially before I hit puberty. Once my adult features began to show themselves, all she could see was my father—the man who broke her heart and abandoned her while she was pregnant.

I don’t allow myself to consider if I’m trying to right the wrongs of the past by being here for Quincy.

My sperm donor made his own choices, and I’m making mine. Supporting Quincy won’t change the emotional damage that my father caused my mother.

And did he ever fuck her up.

As my features changed to remind her of him, her alcoholism worsened, which only made her type 2 diabetes even more uncontrollable. She quite literally drank herself to death. And while I mourned her, I also accepted her choices long before she actually passed away.

It made stepping into my career path a logical decision. Any family or friends could be a target if my enemies ever sought revenge, and not having either made it an easy choice.

My limited range of emotions makes many uncomfortable, but I am working on being more emotionally available for Quincy. She’s never given any of the normal indicators that she fears me, but now I wonder if I’ve purposely avoided noticing them.

Once my system hyperfocuses on a target, I have been known to slip into an obsessive state, but that’s all job related. I’ve never felt romantically drawn to another person as I do with Quincy.

“Are you afraid of me?” I ask, moving to collect another piece of bacon.

“No.” She laughs, taking a bite. Her small hand comes to block her mouth as she chews. “Should I be?”

“Absolutely not.” My free hand teases over her stomach, and the baby pushes back or moves at the exact same moment.

“That’s a relief, but no, I’m not.”

“Good. People are often put off by my directness, but it’s simply part of my personality.” Something akin to awe fills my chest as I chase the movements. “I-Is that the baby?”

“Yeah,” Quincy says softly. “Usually it takes twenty minutes or more for her to wake up after I eat, but she also likes to start moving when I sit down. I think maybe the motion of walking lulls her to sleep or something?”

“That seems logical to me,” I say, even though I truly have no idea if it is or not.

I know virtually nothing about children, but I’m going to rectify that.

Infants seem even needier than toddlers or preschoolers, so some research is in order.

I’ve spent a fair amount of time the last few weeks educating myself on pregnancy and birth, but there will be an entirely new human being to care for, on top of looking after Quincy.

The side of my face burns with the weight of someone’s glare, and I look up in time to spot her idiot boss with a death wish. He leans against the wall near where the restaurant gives way to the now-empty bar.

His demeanor says it all—he doesn’t like me, and the feeling is mutual.

My time with Quincy comes to an end all too quickly. She finishes what I would consider a decent amount of food and excuses herself to the bathroom.

Before she even makes it into the restroom, the owner stomps over with my check in his hand.

He drops it on the edge of the table and scowls. “Touch my employee again, and I’ll have you permanently banned from the premises.”

“Take better care of your staff, and I won’t be forced to intercede.” I shove my glasses up with my middle finger and quirk a brow. “She was wobbling around with no energy, probably caused by low blood sugar.”

He continues to glare.

The bored and disinterested look on my face remains as I refuse to break eye contact.

I truly couldn’t care less what he thinks. If he becomes a problem, I’ll snap his neck and dissolve his remains in acid.

His eyes narrow, and his jaw clenches as he fights to keep my gaze.

This must be an alpha pissing match.

I’ve never participated in one before, but whoever glances away first will know they’re not the more dominant alpha vying for Quincy’s affection.

The staring goes on for an uncomfortable amount of time, and still, neither of us is willing to submit.

“Oh, you already grabbed the check,” Quincy says, appearing at the edge of the table. “I was actually going to cover it. I messed up and brought the wrong food.”

“Absolutely not.” My gaze finally leaves the sullen alpha at the same time he glances at the omega. I suppose we’ll have to call that battle of wills a draw. “I’d like to pay for your breakfast, and my normal order if I can get it to go?”

I smile, hoping it comes off as sincere. The feeling is strange as it pulls at my facial muscles, and I make a mental note to practice more. Perhaps in the mirror so I can note the final result.

I’ve spent a fair amount of time in my life practicing how to mimic human emotions, but happiness is one I rarely rely on. I’ll have to work on it until it becomes more natural.

“I can put in a to-go order.” Quincy stretches over, patting my hand. “Thank you for breakfast. I feel much better.” Her gaze moves to her boss. “I’m sorry about taking a break… It won’t happen again.” Her face twists into a plastic smile, and she clears her throat. “I’ll go, uh, put that in.”

She takes off without another word, and once she’s far enough away, I focus back on Hartley. Yes, I recognized him even before doing a deep dive into his history, but if he’s looking for adoration for knowing how to toss a football across a field, he’ll be waiting for quite some time.

“She was concerned that you might fire her, but that’s not going to be a problem,” I say, leaning back against the leather of the booth. “Is it?”

He growls. “Of fucking course, it’s not.”

“Very good.” I nod, hoping he understands he’s being dismissed.

His eyes narrow.

I wait for him to say more or to issue some other useless ultimatum, but he sighs and walks away without another word.

I smile, focusing out the window next to the booth. I believe it’s good that we got that out of the way.

I spend my morning and early afternoon piggybacking off Calder’s surveillance system. He’s got most of Burlington locked down with his own cameras and easy access into the networks he doesn’t own.

It’s impressive, and I’m not someone who’s easily impressed.

Anywhere I settle long term will need to have a similar setup. That way, I’ll always feel confident I’ll know my enemies are coming before they have the opportunity to strike.

I’ve got enough of them that I never truly saw myself settling down. However, it’s quite easy for me to imagine a cozy life with Quincy and the baby here in Vermont. The downside is that I’ll always need to stay vigilant.

After all, even with extensive surveillance, Ridge’s foes have mostly managed to avoid detection.

The Shadow Security office is quite lively, but I was given an empty office on the first floor. It’s quieter than the second floor since it’s only used as a front for customers.

I barely have to interact with anyone, except when Ridge stops by to ask if I’d like to join him for lunch.

“No,” I say, running through the files on everyone who looked at the listing for his contract. “And you shouldn’t leave either. Order delivery.”

He scoffs, leaning against the doorframe.

“I’m going to lose my fucking mind if I don’t get out of here.

Briar just introduced me to a guinea pig and tried to get me to help her clip its nails.

” It’s hard to tell with the reflective aviators he always wears, but I believe he rolls his eyes based on how his brow and cheeks move.

I refocus on the monitor for the desktop computer. “Take someone else with you. I’m busy.”

Truthfully, I’m shocked Easton allows his omega to keep so many of the furry beasts at the office. It might be mostly a shell to hide the true nature of the business, but using it as a guinea pig sanctuary is so ludicrous that I almost laugh.

The blinking screen finally loading catches my attention, and I frown.

Motherfucker.

Costa didn’t stop at one contract. He’s got Ridge listed on another site, with an even higher bounty of seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars.

“Whatever, starve then,” Ridge says, shoving off the doorframe and preparing to exit.

“Wait,” I call after him. “You and I need to have a meeting with Easton, as in, right now.”

“Nothing like an invasion of assassins,” Easton says, rolling his dark eyes.

Our father’s genetics must have been exceptionally strong. It is eerie how much the two of us look alike, and we’re only half siblings.

Ridge snorts. “You sure know how to fuck up a man’s day. I was dreaming about the all-you-can-eat wings at O’Malley’s.”

My eyes narrow as I realize he was speaking to me. “Surely you can afford the delivery charge and a tip.”

“He most definitely can,” Easton says. “He was my top earner last year. Just under three-point-seven million in completed contracts. He’s just cheap.”

“You can’t get all-you-can-eat delivered,” Ridge says petulantly.

“Is that gross or net?” I ask, trying to calculate if Ridge might be more prolific than even me.

“We need to find you an Omen to your Valor,” Easton says, looking at Ridge.

I have no idea what that means. Ridge raises a hand, flipping off my half brother.

“You’re lucky you spend five days a week in the gym, but even then, one day, your eating habits will catch up with you.

” He rolls his eyes and refocuses on me.

“The bottom line is, he’s not hurting financially. ”

Ahh, so he did hear my question.

“You know I get crabby when I don’t eat regularly,” Ridge says.

“I’m bringing Knox in. He can help watch your back while Trigg is hunting.” Easton points at Ridge. “Eat in the office for now. I will treat this one time if you will shut the fuck up.”

Ridge crosses his arms over his chest. “Fine, but I’m ordering what I would have if I was paying.”

This is the guy I’m supposed to keep alive? I have serious doubts the world would miss him.

Whatever.

Lucky for Ridge, I don’t have to like someone to do my job. It’s simple. Keep him alive and get paid. Then I’ll finally be free to loudly court Quincy.