“I love you for all that you are, no need to thank me for that.”
“How about I thank you for coming into my world, turning it on its head, making me the happiest alpha in existence, giving me a family, and being the sexiest mate ever?”
“I think it should be me thanking you for all of that but swap out alpha for omega.” I leaned in close to his ear. “But I can’t give you a proper thank-you here… not with your brother and Aurthur waiting for us.”
“Oh, look at that,” he stepped out of my arms. “It’s time to go.” Lincoln winked, picked up the bag and blanket, and the two of us headed to the car. We had a thank-you to get home to.
Sometimes the wrong number is the exact one you need.
I’m just trying to confirm a delivery with a client. One quick call, that’s it. But thanks to my co-worker’s horrible handwriting, I spend days leaving messages at the wrong number instead.
Finally, the number calls back. I expect them to be pissed. Their furniture is still in our warehouse and not in their living room as promised. Instead, I discover my mistake as Remy, the man I called by mistake, explains why it took so long for him to return my calls, ones not meant for him. He’s never heard ofour store, much less ordered from us. I want to keep talking to him, but the customer I’d been attempting to contact barges into the store and our call is cut short. They are livid.
A week goes by, and I can’t stop thinking about Remy. I want to call him, talk to him more, and listen to him ramble on about his day, but that would be wrong. He nevergaveme his number. I got it byaccident,and that isn’t the same. It’s best to let it go. If only it were that easy.
I’m about to cave, to give into my need to hear his sweet voice again, when he walks into the store. The second I see him, I know he’s mine. It doesn’t make any sense, but when has love ever made sense?
