Page 24 of Her Knotty Alphas

"Harold is going to love this," she gushes, turning her head to look at the other side. "He likes it when I'm a little wild."

The statement shouldn't shock me, but it does, and she gives me a stink eye with no heat behind it when I cough to cover my laugh. "Marie, I thought you were dating Bertie."

She freakingrolls her eyes at meand waves me off. "Please. Bertie was stifling. Harold embraces a little bit of crazy."

Her response has me chuckling. "Fair enough." And before I know it, I'm being swept into a hug. The mandatory de-scenter policy ensures that I can't scent her, but given the fact that she's a beta, I know it would be fresh and soothing.

"Thank you dear," she sniffles with her chin on my shoulder. My brow furrows, I have no idea what could have made her upset. "Sylvie was always so proud of you, you know. You were her shining star, and she only ever wanted you to be happy."

Well fuck, nowI'msniffling.

"Thank you, Marie." I pull back, wiping my eyes. "It's been…it's been hard since Nana passed, but I—"

"Hannah, your four o'clock is here." The receptionist calls out, and I give Marie a wry smile before shaking my head and wiping my eyes again.

"Maybe we can catch up another time—Enzo?" My mouth nearly gapes open at the sight of the man coming towards me. My station is right next to the lobby, so there's no hiding as I take him in. A light blue button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, gray wash jeans and just enough silver threaded through his dark brown hair to make my mouth water.

My true scent match.

Now that I know what he smells like, it feels…unnatural,wrong, to have him be scentless. I'm suddenly regretting the fact that I didn't take time with my appearance today. After washing off last night's makeup, I had opted for just a tinted moisturizer,leaving my freckles on full display, and my ombre-pink hair is thrown on top of my head in a messy bun. At least the way my apron ties around me accentuates my waist, because otherwise my oversized band tee and leggings—all black, per dress code—are not doing me any favors. "What are you doing here? I have an appointment."

"Iamthe appointment,preciosa," he rumbles, and Marie's drawn on brows shoot up into her hairline. I don't know much Spanish but I know enough to recognize he just called me precious. Ignoring the butterflies that erupt in my chest with that knowledge, I do my best to head off Marie before she inevitably hits on him.

My mouth opens to answer him, but I’m too late.

"Well, hello there, tall, dark, and handsome." Marie flutters her lashes as she looks him up and down, making my omega growl possessively in my chest.

Holy shit. That's new.

Enzo looks between us, brows raised.

"Marie," I hiss, pushing aside my omega urge to tackle the elderly lady, no matter how fond of her I am, "weren't you just talking about Harold?"

She waves me off. "Please. I'm old, Hannah, not dead. I'm allowed to look at him. Besides, he'd be perfect foryou."

Enzo shoots me a wink, making even more damn butterflies swarm in my belly, before he takes a step forward, holding his hand out for Marie. She blushes furiously and she places it in his hand. "I am Lorenzo Mendez. It is a pleasure to meet you." He presses a chaste kiss to the back of her hand and she giggles before pulling her hand out of his grip.

"Marie," she introduces herself before grabbing her purse and looking between the two of us as if she can somehow sense the draw of the scent match. "And I have a boyfriend to go blowaway with my new hair. So I'll see you next week. My ride just got here."

She shoots me a look that says"you better not mess this up"and hurries out the door.

Which leaves me and my true scent match, locked in a staring contest while I feel the curious eyes of my co-workers and their clients on us through the mirrors.

"Why are you really here?" I ask quietly, taking a step forward so the rest of the room can't hear us.

"I brought you something," his left hand, still behind his back, comes into view and I see the small pink bakery box in his grasp.

I tentatively take them, popping open the box and nearly moaning at the smell of chocolate and flaky pastry.

Chocolate croissants.

"What are these for?" I ask, my breath catching in my throat. If this is what I think it is…

"It's a courting present," he says, frowning at my expression. "Not a big one, obviously, but a little nudge in the right direction…" He trails off, his frown deepening the longer I don't say anything.

I can't help it. I've never gotten to the point of courting gifts before. My heart is hammering in my chest, butterflies threatening to burst out of my stomach.

"Listen, I…" for the first time since he walked in, he looks unsure. "Please hear me out. I know what I smelled last night. Which…was incredible. But I can see you're overwhelmed. Get to know me without the influence of scent, beyond the small talk of a typical client conversation. Please."

---