Page 21 of The Alpha Escort Agency
Rory sees her before she sees him, wrapped up in a bright blue woollen coat, a long scarf wound round her neck, its ends trailing behind her. Her hands are buried in her pockets and her chin tucked into her scarf. She walks with a hint of a skip, eyes scanning the many groups of people waiting outside the station's main entrance. When she spots him, her face breaks into a wide smile that warms his blood and all his concerns about doing this drift away on the breeze.
They’re concerns that have been rattling around in his mind ever since he delivered the letter asking her out. He's still not sure what possessed him to start writing to her. He can't pretend it was done innocently, a correspondence between two platonic acquaintances, because studying the fine print of his employment contract for a way to navigate around the terms is not the actions of an innocent man.
Nope, he knows exactly why he's doing this. His latest agency assignment had only been a week ago, and while he'd maintained his professionalism and delivered a satisfactory service, he'd found it to be the most difficult assignment of his life and he'd come away desperate to see this Omega. He's tried not to examine too closely the reason why, or the feelings it provoked.
He also knows exactly what is on the line for him here. There's no way the agency has found out what he's up to, but he's going to switch his phone off anyway and put on his beanie hat and tuck his hair inside. He's being paranoid, but he can't afford to lose this job. Not for some silly crush and a woman he barely knows.
What he hopes for most of all is they won't hit it off, that he'll come away realising what he felt for her that first time was not real. He's had plenty of second dates that have gone that way, the woman revealing a bit more of her true self and in doing so turning him off completely.
Yes, there’d been the Omega who couldn't pass a shop window without checking herself out, another who needed to post her every movement to Instagram, and another who'd laughed when he said he was interested in wildlife.
Hopefully, it will happen again and he can move on. Back to work, back to his life.
"Hi," she says, coming to stand before him, head tipping back to meet his eye.
"Hello Alice." He bends to kiss her on the cheek, resting his hand lightly on her waist and taking the opportunity to smell her. Her scent is better than he remembers, despite the traffic fumes and the stench of the railway, she still smells incredible. He'd quite happily keep his nose buried against her skin, but he steps away. "You hungry?"
"Always." There's the hint of a blush on her rosie cheeks and he suspects she's taken a mouthful of his scent too.
"Let's go then."
She reaches out to take his hand, which for a brief second stuns him, before he clasps it in his own.
"Your hands are cold," he says.
"Cold hands, warm heart!"
He grips it a little tighter, wanting to warm her.
They join the crowds heading down towards the market, the spires of the cathedral visible against the glow of the city sky.
"What would you like to eat?" he asks her.
"What is there?"
"Ha." He swings his gaze down to hers. "Everything you can imagine. Middle Eastern, Indian, Argentinian, Italian, traditional British."
She peers up at him. "Maybe a little bit of everything."
He nods and they reach the entrance to the market and step inside. Above their heads is the curved iron latticework roof painted an earthy green and in every direction a food stall, people queued or gathered around. Some stalls are wholesale, fruit and vegetables piled on counter tops, others serve hot food, the aromas of spices and cooking foods wafting through to greet them.
For any Omega or Alpha stepping in here is like entering a playground of aromas. The vivid, powerful smells ignite the senses, pulling and tugging the attention. His mouth waters and his stomach growls. He watches as her own face comes alive, her eyes darting from one place to the next.
"How about we see where your nose takes you?" he murmurs.
"Hmmm," she says, her tongue swiping along her lower lip. "This way." She tugs him to the left and they join a short queue. "This smells good."
The corner of his mouth twitches, and he tries not to smile. "Oysters? Expensive taste."
Her eyes go wide. "Oysters?! Oh never mind—"
"Don't be silly." He tugs her back into line. "You ever tried one before?"
"No." She crinkles up her nose and he realises for a second time that he’s easing into her company with no trouble at all.
"Well, you've got to try one now." He keeps his face straight, a skill he’s learnt from his line of work, hiding his amusement.
"I'm not sure."
