Page 42 of Alpha's Sunflower Smiles

Like, really scary.

I was going to see his papa.

Last night, after he’d made love to me and cuddled me close, we’d talked. My alpha had spooned up behind me and I’d felt his hard muscles press against me, his warm skin and his breath on my neck as he spoke. I got the impression that he was able to talk much easier when he wasn’t face-to-face with me, and I’d listened to him carefully as he explained about his relationship with his papa.

Pete didn’t seem sure that his papa would accept him for who he was, not really, not if he didn’t marry an omega and have children.

However, I wasn’t so sure about that.

Obviously I hadn’t met his papa for very long – and it wasn’t the best introduction we could have had, since I’d much rather he hadn’t spotted us dry humping on the couch – but he’d looked surprised more than disgusted or annoyed.

I finished wrapping my candle holder and stood back to admire it. It looked lovely, if I did say so myself.

And it also meant I couldn’t delay any longer.

I slipped into the workshop where Richard was working. “I’m going out now.”

He looked up from the computer where he did all the boring business stuff. He gave me a significant look. “Good luck.”

I hadn’t told himexactlywhat I was about to do, but I think he was basically onto me.

Standing up tall, I took my gift and walked out of Sunflower Smiles. I had to sneak out the back so Pete wouldn’t happen tospot me if he looked out the window, and then I drove to his papa’s house.

It was in a very nice area, and the house was older and had more character than Pete’s. It wasn’t as nice as my cottage but I approved.

That was a good sign, right?

It took me a few seconds to work up the courage to ring the bell and then remember to smile when Mr. Thompson opened the door.

“Good morning,” I said. “I don’t know if you remember me, I’m Wilfred Smith, Pete’s, um, partner.”

I tried to remember to say ‘partner’ and not ‘boyfriend’ like Mr. Thompson had.

“I remember.” The look he gave me made me think the image of Pete and me together was burned into his memory and he’d much rather it wasn’t. I cringed a bit.

When he stood aside and said, “Come in,” though, I took that as a win.

“This house is lovely,” I said as we walked through to the lounge. It was clear that somebody with a very experienced eye had designed it.

“Thank you, I do my best.”

“You designed it?”

“Yes.”

I could see he was trying to downplay it but he was proud of his house. He’d taken care to make it look this way, and the beauty of everything stood out. Everything around us had been chosen because it was pretty, and I could understand that. After all, I spent my life making beautiful things.

That reminded me. I held out the gift I’d brought him.

“Since you didn’t get to keep the last gift, I hope you like this one.”

I’d chosen a slightly different design from the red roses Pete had chosen. When he’d burst in on us, Mr. Thompson had been wearing a white shirt with thin blue stripes and I’d noted that his eyes were the same baby blue that Pete had inherited. I’d taken a chance and gone with a periwinkle design instead.

When Mr. Thompson unwrapped it, I was glad I’d made that decision. Those pretty blue eyes went wide and he turned the candle holder round, admiring it.

“This is very nice,” he said. It wasn’t so much what he said as the way he said it. There was an honesty in his appreciation that made me feel warm, just like I always did when people loved the things I’d made them.

I thought it was a good start.

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