Page 42 of Unbonded
“It’s great,” I agree, setting down my bag and getting my workstation ready. Florence handles the diary for consultations, fittings, and delivery, while I focus on the behind-the-scenes design and construction. Today I have an alteration coming in, but other than that, I’m free to work on my projects. “If I ever open my own store, I’d love an area like this.”
I steer him over to the workbench where I do most of my cutting and while he settles on a stool, I unzip the garment bag I brought with me. Lachlan leans forward and takes a quick sniff. “That smells familiar.”
“It’s Bram’s,” I admit, taking out the heavy black jacket and setting it down on the counter. It’s not badly made – just conventional, which doesn’t really work for his dimensions. “He thinks he can’t look good in a suit, but that’s because he hasn’t seen me work.”
Lachlan smiles as I start taking measurements. “I like this side of you,” he says softly. “Confident. Energized. You’re really in your element.”
There’s only admiration in his voice, but I arch a brow at him. “So says the business major who told me most fashion graduates end up working retail.” I look around and shrug. “I mean, you’re right in a way, but at least I’m putting my skills to use.”
Lachlan winces and palms his face. “I didn’t mean it like that! I was worried Lee would fuck things up and you would have to support yourself in a really competitive market.”
“A clairvoyantanda muse,” I tease, jotting Bram’s measurements in my notebook. “It is competitive, but I was lucky to get this job before my unbonding. By the time it happened, I had enough happy customers for Florence to keep me on.”
Lachlan is scowling now. “Talent is talent. Your bonding status shouldn’t mean shit to your work.”
I shrug. “I’m in the business of eternal bondings. It upsets some customers, like I’m a symbol of how fragile their dreams really are.” I don’t give him specific examples, since the Mrs. Olsens of the world don’t deserve any space in his head. He still looks upset, and I grab his hand, drawing him to his feet. “Hey, it’s okay, really. I’m still employed, and I’m happy doing thiswork. Now, can you stand here so I can check the lines of this jacket?”
It’s really just a way to distract him, but Florence is right; Lachlan makes a great model. Bram’s jacket is too big for him, but he has enough bulk to make the fabric drape the right way for me to mock up a pattern.
“You smell good together.” I can’t resist rubbing my cheek on his shoulder, soaking up their combined scents. He instantly loops an arm around my waist, and I sigh happily as I stare up at him. “How are you feeling about everything? I know you and Bram didn’t exactly start off on the best foot.”
He scoffs, a hint of pink touching his cheeks. “I may have jumped to some conclusions, but in my defense, a lot happened pretty damn quick.”
“That’s an understatement,” I snort squeezing his hand, since a week ago Lachlan Cook was just a distant college memory.
“Plus, I might have overreacted about the uber thing.” He rubs the back of his neck, looking adorably flustered. “I don’t think Bram fits the stereotype.”
I agree. Bram might be highly dominant, but other than a few flickers of eyeshine, I’ve never seen his alpha traits get the better of him.
“You should spend some time with them when they get back.” It’s something we all need to do, but it’s important to me that Lachlan feels comfortable around the alphas, especially since he hasn’t always had the best experience with their designation.
“To be honest, I’m glad we’ve got this time together,” he murmurs, rubbing his lips lightly across my temple. “Gives me a chance to soak you up without them here to distract you.”
“You’re plenty distracting, believe me.” He smirks as I ease the jacket off his shoulders and drape it back over the counter. “I know Lee and the other alphas were hard on you in college, but I really think these guys are different.”
“Less to prove and more secure in themselves.” I remember Lachlan making insightful comments like this when we were sitting in a campus coffee shop, people watching. At the time I thought he was being a little judgy, but Lee was the one who sneered the insults, not Lachlan. He was just intrigued by the world around him. “They’re a bit intimidating, to be honest,” he goes on, his brow furrowing. “Not just their money and status, but I envy the way they have their shit together. I’ve got a long way to go before I can make even a fraction of a mark that they have.”
“Everyone has stuff they’re working through, even Corbus Janssen.” I don’t want to talk about Corbus behind his back, but I want Lachlan to understand he has a vulnerable side, too. No one has everything worked out, but that’s the attraction of a pack. We can help each other find our feet, and if we stumble in the process, there are plenty of hands to pick us back up. “And this isn’t a contest, Lachlan. You have just as much to offer as anyone.”
He rewards my words with a soft, toe-curling kiss, and a muse never tasted so good. But I still have a lot of work to do, so he retreats to his stool while I work on my other projects. The alteration is with a long-term client, and after she heads off, Lachlan and I head uptown to Dash’s theater. It’s close to Lincoln Center, which makes it a brisk fifteen-minute walk from the store. I stick close by Lachlan’s side, even though I’m feeling a lot better, so I feel him stiffen as a long black car pulls up next to us. At first, I think it’s Hector in a new ride, but the driver staring out at us is a stranger. His gaze rakes over me in a way that makes my hackles rise, and Lachlan stops abruptly, the veins on his neck sticking out as he spits, “Drive on, buddy.”
The guy at the wheel dismisses Lachlan with a sneer, murmuring something over his shoulder. The next second the tinted window in the back slides down, and another alpha isstaring out at me. This one is older, mid-fifties, with gray hair, a heavy jaw, and eyes as sharp as glass. “Ms. Valentine?”
Lachlan growls, but I lift my chin, refusing to cower behind him. “Who are you?”
“We have a mutual friend in common.” Like his driver, his gaze crawls down my body, his attention sending a shiver of revulsion through me. You don’t grow up on the streets of New York without encountering your share of assholes, but this man has predator written all over him. “How about I give you a ride to wherever you’re going?”
There’s no way this guy is friends with Corbus or Bram, and I take an abrupt step back. “No, thanks.”
“You heard her, asshole.” Lachlan balls his fits and glares at the other man. “Unless you want to step out here and explain who the fuck you are.”
“Down, boy.” The words are insulting, but it’s the command he wields that punches the breath out of me. I gasp, but the alpha isn’t focusing on me, and Lachlan’s arm is torn from my grasp as he goes down to his knees. He slams onto the pavement, but it’s the look on his face that has me leaping towards the car. When I’m less than a foot from the open window, a wave of alpha pheromones hit me, like old, rancid meat.
“Fuck you!” I hiss, trying to shield Lachlan with my body. My heart is racing, and I feel like I’m about to puke, but I refuse to take my eyes off the predator in front of me. “If you don’t leave us alone, I’m calling the police on your abusive ass.”
Those glass-like eyes narrow, dark lights swirling in their depths, and for a moment I think he’s going to get out of the car and hit me. But he just shakes his head, his thin lips curling into a sneer. “A mouth like that, no wonder you’re hanging out with betas. See you around, Omega.”
They’ve left the curb before his window is all the way up and I take a shuddering breath. When I hear a groan behind me,I whirl around to find Lachlan staggering back to his feet. His scent is so bitter, I have to press my hand to my nose. “Oh, my God… Are you okay?”
