The Alpha's Unrecognised Mate

Romantically Unromantic

I didn’t fully comprehend where we were driving until we got close. I’d recognised we weren’t headed home, but I hadn’t considered that Lyra would send us to Clint’s without so much as a change of clothes. I wasn’t first-date worthy. I wasn’t even casual-visit-with-the-alpha worthy. For the first time since I’d handed over control, I second guessed Lyra’s plan. She had been too crafty for me, though. By the time I realised where we were, I’d started to pick up his scent. There was no way I could resist him now, not in my weakened state. Resigned, I continued down Eastern drive, turning off at the end. I was officially in Clint’s territory now.

His house was secluded in forest. To reach it by car you had to go down a winding drive that was surrounded by the woods on either side. It curved wide enough that you couldn't see the house until you were nearly upon it, even though the driveway was probably a mile long. The home itself was breathtaking. It jutted up against a hill, with the lower section facing the drive. The ground floor appeared to be a garage, with the main house on the story above. The building was modern, with most of the top floor being surrounded by floor-to-ceiling windows. The area outside was well-lit, making it easy for those inside to see what was going on outdoors. Even if Clint couldn't smell me, he'd have been able to see me by now. There was no turning back.

I parked my car and checked the clock on the dash. It was six thirty, so I was definitely early, but at a roughly passable level. I didn’t think he would take it as a huge surprise that I was here before seven, even though that wasn’t my original intention. He was getting pretty familiar with me being more than a little keen to see him.

As I opened the door, another smell hit me. I’d almost forgotten that he’d said he’d be cooking, and I could tell he’d already started. If the scent was anything to go off, he was a good cook. Between his cooking and his sweet, comforting scent, I was already starting to feel the tension unravel. I closed the car door and checked my reflection in the window. I did my best to rub off the tear marks on my cheeks, then took off my scrub top and threw it in the back seat. I had a long-sleeved shirt underneath, and it hugged my chest in a much nicer way than scrubs could ever dream of. I tried retying my hair before giving up and leaving it undone, brushing it with my fingers so it sat in a semi-pretty way. As presentable as I was going to get, I took a deep breath and headed towards Clint’s front door. He opened it before I could finish climbing the steps, a gentle smile gracing his strong jaw.

“Hey, Tori,” he called out casually. He took in my attire and the weariness that still sat heavy on my features. “Is everything okay?”

If he’d asked me half an hour ago, I would have said no. Now, though, in his presence, it just didn’t seem as bad.

“Hey, Clint. Long day,” I replied, brushing off his concern as best I could. He could tell I was down-playing it and pulled me into a tight hug. I breathed him in and let him carry away the last of my worries. With my arms wrapped around his back I could feel the powerful muscles in his shoulder as they held me. Although my scent wouldn’t be as mesmerising to him, I could feel him breathing me in, too.

We stood there for a few moments before he let me go.

“Come in, I’ve got some pasta cooking. It should be nearly ready,” he explained, beckoning me inside. A fireplace in the living room sent a beautiful warmth over me as I entered. Although still very modern, the inside was much cosier. A large, worn couch sat in front of a TV next to the fireplace. A soft rug helped give the space a comfortable look. There were no pillows or knick-knacks, though, making the space distinctly masculine. A partition separated the living from the kitchen, which was behind it. While there was warmth in the living room, the kitchen was sleek, clean and modern. It was large, but not obscene. I could tell he actually used the equipment and space that was on display, rather than having it just for show. The home was expensive, classy, but not large.

“You have a really nice place,” I praised, looking around. I dawdled as I followed him to the kitchen, taking the time to peruse the space.

“Yeah,” he answered with a tinge of sadness I didn’t understand. I tilted my head. He realised I’d noticed his change of tone, and elaborated, “My parent’s life insurance paid for it.”

“Oh… sorry,” I mumbled awkwardly.

“Don’t be. It was a long time ago. I’ve come to terms with it,” he gave me a small smile that showed he meant what he said. Still, I could only imagine how the long-term pain of being orphaned so young would weigh on a person. It would always be a part of who he was.

“Do you like pasta?” he asked me, breaking the heaviness before it could take hold.

“Definitely,” I smiled, nodding enthusiastically.

“Would you taste test the bolognaise for me?” he asked, gesturing to a pot simmering on the stove. I grabbed a spoon and took a little of the sauce, blowing on it to cool it before placing it into my mouth. I looked to Clint to give him my verdict and noticed him eyeing me intently.

“Yeah, it’s alright,” I teased, while going in for another test scoop. He mock-nodded, mouth drooping, pretending he took my words to heart.

“Well I guess I won’t be inviting you back for dinner,” he grumbled under his breath playfully.

“But how will you improve without my expert critique?” I asked, pouting exaggeratedly.

“Expert, eh? Maybe you’ll have to cook for me next time?”

“Expert critic,” I emphasised, stealing a third spoonful.

“Oi alright, leave some for dinner,” he scolded, nudging me out of the kitchen. I felt the sparks as he bumped his body against mine, but tried to play it off as if I didn’t. Clint was bringing out all the charm for me tonight, and I was feeling it full force.

I sat on one of the stools at the breakfast bar that faced the kitchen so I could watch him work. I watched him pull out two bowls and drain the pasta, which meant dinner was almost ready. It felt like forever since I had last eaten, and having confirmed that his cooking was above putting-it-in-the-microwave level, I was famished. Before too long Clint was placing the bowl in front of me, and his own beside it. I went to enquire about moving to the dining room when I realised there wasn’t one. In a way, it made sense. I didn’t see Clint entertaining very often.

“I hope it will satisfy your high standards,” he teased, jumping to the stool beside me. He tilted it so he was half facing the bench, and half me. I swivelled in my chair to do the same.

He reached behind himself and grabbed the bottom of his jumper, pulling it up and over his head. At first I didn't pay much attention, but then I realised he wasn't wearing a shirt underneath.

"Whaa-" I blurted out lamely.

"Don’t wanna get sauce on it, tomato’s a bit.ch to get out," he explained, but the devilish grin on his face suggested that wasn’t the real reason.

"Mhmm," I said in agreement, my mind no longer able to focus on words. I focussed instead on trying to maintain eye contact with him and not let my eyes dip lower.

“Too much?” he asked, the playful smile suddenly earnest.

“No, not at all,” I replied hurriedly. He barked out a deep laugh that echoed through the kitchen.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’m just not sure how high to turn up the flirt-meter, especially with you having that ‘destined’ pull,” he explained, showing all of his cards in a way that felt genuine, not awkward. I tried to reply in the same way and not let my blushing cheeks give away how new to this sort of thing I was.

“I mean, yeah, there’s a definite pull,” I laughed lightly, trying to down-play my feelings, “but I don’t want you to think you have to try and, I don’t know, make up for it? I don’t want you to rush your own feelings for me.”

“I appreciate that,” Clint grinned. “It will take me a while to get to know you, to learn to understand how you think. But, I enjoy your company, Tori. I know that already.” He placed a large hand on my knee and it took all of my restraint not to lean into him. “When it comes to the attraction aspect, though… well, I don’t need the Moon Goddess to tell me you’re hot.”

I let out a shaky breath. Did someone turn the fireplace up? It was suddenly feeling really hot all over… but especially between my legs. I could see in the way his eyes darkened that he could tell what I was thinking from my expression.

“For now, let’s eat,” he said, releasing his grip on my knee when I’d been hoping he’d slide it lower. I took a deep breath and returned to my own food. Yup, this guy was a charmer!