Page 54 of His Innocent Omega
My eyes fell on the sofa and area in front of his fireplace. The coffee table had been pushed to the side, and the floor was covered with a mound of soft looking blankets, stacked on top of each other. Two plates, silverware, and napkins sat on top of the blankets. A basket with thick slices of some kind of bread was in the middle. Bowls with handles were safe on the hardwood, placed beside each setting.
“What’s this?” I gestured to the assortment.
Grayson finished snapping Julianna into her bouncy seat, and deposited her safely on a corner of the blankets. Grinning, dimples in full view, he said, “It’s a picnic. What would you like to drink? I have coffee, tea, beer, wine, water. I’m not much of a soda drinker, sorry.”
“Um, water, please.” Staring at the picnic he had laid out, my heart did a pitter patter in my chest.
“Coming up,” he motioned for me to sit. “I know your list said picnic, and you were probably thinking outside. But it’s chilly, and picnics aren’t what they’re cracked up to be. There’s wind, bugs, and dirt. Uneven ground.”
Not knowing what else to do with myself, I sat gingerly on one side of the blanket, careful of the soup bowl, and the warm steam still floating from the top of it. There were enough blankets piled up, I barely felt the hard floor beneath me.
“I thought this would be comfier and would still count as a picnic.” He handed me an icy glass of water, then sank downand sat his cold bottle of beer next to him. “Eat up. The bread is sourdough. It’s good to dip into the soup.”
I didn’t know what to say to any of this. Not the soup this man had made me, without meat, full of perfectly seasoned vegetables floating in hearty broth. Not the fresh bread that was still warm from the oven. And certainly not the impromptu picnic he had thrown together from something I had put on a list of things I wanted to experience one day.
Wishing I hadn’t cut my hair so I could still hide behind it, I took a sip of the soup, not meeting his eyes. The broth was rich, thick and fragrant and the taste exploded on my tongue. It was the perfect blend of salt, spices, and roasted vegetables. “This is wonderful. You’re a good cook.”
He smiled, nodding his head in thanks. “My grandmother was the real cook in the family. She taught my papa, who taught me.”
Looking over his head at the pictures on the mantel, my eyes fell on the oldest photo, and the smiling couple standing outside the restaurant. “Octavia’s was her restaurant?” I guessed, putting the name together from when I had been looking at all the photos lining the mantle.
“It was.” He answered, as I dipped a corner of a slice of bread in the soup. “Dad and Papa took it over after she passed, but I didn’t have time or the desire to run a restaurant when they were gone. It’s doing well, last I heard.”
“You don’t go back to Louisiana often, do you?”
Sadness flickered in his eyes before it vanished quickly. “My parents have been gone ten years now, and there’s nothing left for me there.”
“No other family?”
“My omega dad was an only child, and my alpha dad wasn’t close with his siblings. I have some cousins scattered around thecountry, but we haven’t been close since we were children. My past…occupation kept me busy and I traveled all over the world.”
We ate in silence for a few minutes, and when he handed me a second bowl of soup, he said, “Can I ask you something?”
Nodding, I sipped my soup, looking over the brim of the bowl.
“Why the screen name 187 on the app?”
Setting the bowl down, I replied, “It’s my I.Q. But I’m sure you already know that.”
His lips curved into an upwards tilt that wasn’t quite a smile. “I figured as much, but I wasn’t sure. Jamie and Bash’s son, Matty, is a genius too.”
“I’ve met him. They had me over for dinner a couple of nights ago.” Julianna fussed, so I rocked her bouncy seat. “Matty is a great kid. He’s lucky to have them as parents. When did she eat last?”
He was scrutinizing me in the way he did, where he tried to not look like he was doing it. Picking apart my words for hidden meanings. Getting to my feet, I didn’t wait for him to answer. “I’ll fix her a bottle.”
He spent the time I was heating her bottle to coo softly to her, which gave me a minute to try to calm whatever was happening in my body. The picnic was sweet, probably one of the sweetest things anyone had ever done for me. Mentally, I drew a line through it in my head, marking it off my list.
When I sat back down, he took the bottle from me, feeding Julianna while she still sat in her bouncy seat. “Why do you say that? About Matty, I mean. Not that I disagree, because Jamie and Bash are amazing parents. But I heard something in your voice.”
“They are just very conscious of putting his needs first, and I can appreciate that. Trying to balance his academic needs alongwith his social needs. It can be tough and not all parents manage it well.”
“Your parents, you mean?”
Sighing, I ran a hand through my curls, uncomfortable with where the conversation was heading. “They weren’t bad parents.” I finally admitted quietly. “Just distant.”
“Wyatt–”
“What do you want me to say, Grayson?” I cried out, “I can’t say they were abusive, because they weren’t. They gave me anything I could ever want. They made sure I thrived, academically. But I’m very aware that I’m lucky nothing bad happened to me in school. High school was bad enough, with bullies and kids older and bigger. But college? Fuck.” I picked at a string on the blanket. “The chaperone they hired disappeared pretty soon after I got there, and my parents never even realized it. Not that I told them, so I guess that’s on me.”
