Page 101 of The Boss Omega
I place the canister of green coffee beans on the table and turn to face her. She’s wearing plum-colored leggings that hug the curve of muscle along her thigh, and an oversized T-shirt. She’s rumpled from whatever she and Silas have been doing upstairs, and her plump lips are even more swollen and pink from their kisses.
She steals my breath. And I hate that. Hate that I can’t stop looking at her. That I can’t stop thinking about her. That I’m drifting closer and closer to giving in to the power she has over me.
My alpha doesn't hate it, though. He wants to add his mark to whatever Silas left behind.
This thing between us? It’s dangerous. I know it, but I can’t seem to stop it from happening. I’m not even sure I still want to.
She moves closer. Her scent brushes the back of my throat. “Explain it to me.” She points to my roasting machine.
I know what she's doing. She's trying to force me to open up. I should turn away, but I don't. “This is the roaster.” I gesture to the steel machine in front of us. “This one will roast up to six kilograms at a time.”
She gasps. “Only six? But it’s huge!”
I chuckle. “Six is a lot for a backyard hobby.”
Her eyes are big and questioning. Like she actually wants to know more. And, god help me, I keep going. I should run away or tell her to go see Silas in his shop.
“The beans start out green when they’re picked.” I pick up the canister of beans I just measured. “It’s the roasting process that turns them dark.”
“How long do they need to roast?”
I shrug. “It depends on the machine, the temperature, the desired level of roast.” I shake canister until the beans fall into the hopper at the top of the machine. “This batch will probably go for twelve or thirteen minutes.”
I point to the laptop I have set up on a nearby table. “Graham helped me set up a thermal reader and app. So I can monitor from my computer. But I usually just like to look and listen.”
Lark nods again, as though she actually understands. Maybe she does. She can keep up with Graham and all his science lectures. Coffee roasting probably isn’t even a challenge for her.
She looks around the room, taking it all in before walking a few paces away to where I have burlap bags stacked neatly on a shelving unit. She reads the labels on the shelves, then looks back at me.
“So many different kinds. Do you use them all?”
I shrug. “Yeah. Some more than others. Right now, I’m roasting a blend. One bean is from Guatemala, the other from Brazil.”
She takes a bean out from one sack and puts it to her nose, testing the scent. “And what will that end up tasting like?”
“Sweet. Some chocolate… Caramel,” I choke out.
Her eyes go wide and her sweet scent floods the room.
My alpha claws at my chest.
Fuck.
I turn my back to her, pretending to be interested in the beans currently roasting.
The beans have gotten hot enough now to emit their strong smell. I’ve grown used to the burnt toast and hay scent that happens as the beans start to dry out, but I’m wishing I hadn’t. Maybe then I could drown out the scent of her perfume.
She comes and stands by my shoulder. My brain starts calculating how easy it would be to turn and press her against the counter.
“I didn’t realize it would smell so…” Her upturned nose wrinkles. It’s the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.
“The drying phase is the worst. It will mellow out a bit when the roasting process starts and smell more like what you’re used to after first crack.”
She looks like she’s reconsidering her relationship with coffee. “I can see why your shop is so far from the house.”
Despite myself, I laugh. A real one. “Yeah, when I first started, I would dry the beans in our oven. It’s not as even a roast, but a good way to get started.”
She looks appalled. “You let this smell into the house?”
