Until I Saw You:Happily Ever Alpha(3)

By: Jordan Marie

“Allen! You’re the reason we’re here.”

“Uh, Sis—”

“I’m serious. You keep insisting on wearing that silly beard,” she mumbles and the guy in question shakes his head at her.

“My beard is not silly.”

He’s not wrong. It’s a closely shaven beard, thin at first until it gets thicker on his chin. It’s not overly long, and he wears it really well. So good that you want to touch it. I look at them chattering with each other while the first guy takes his son into his arms and watches them. The girl and the man she called Allen look nothing alike. If he hadn’t called her his sister, I wouldn’t have guessed that in a million years.

“Allen, it is.”

“It’s not. You just have a thing against beards.”

“Well, it’s true. If Roman ever decided to grow a beard I would refuse to let him touch me.”

“Don’t challenge me, Pet,” the other guy interjects and that all-over body quiver I wanted to have before comes back now with a vengeance.

“Sorry, lover,” she whispers, blushing.

Holy shit.

Those two have enough heat in here that I may need to turn the temperature down on the thermostat.

“Please, you two, family member here—your son is here,” Allen complains.

“How do you think our son got here?” the blonde asks, laughing. “Anyway, Allen, you were the one complaining that your beard is itchy—not me.”

“Boss, kill me now,” Allen says, his face deadpan.

“I’m out of this one,” the guy says easily as he walks over to the counter where I am. He sets the little boy down and I smile at him.

“Hi! I’m Ro’mun!”

“Hi, Roman.” I grin down at the little boy. “I’m Jessie.”

“Jessie!” he repeats and I laugh. I reach down under the counter and pull out the bowl full of toys I keep there.

“Would you like one?” I ask.

His little hand goes to the bowl and his little chubby fingers wrap around a bright yellow spongey ball.

“What are you supposed to say, Little Man?” the girl says.

“Thank you!” Roman says, squeezing the ball.

“You’re welcome,” I laugh, and I can’t resist rubbing the top of his head, ruffling his dark hair.

“I’m Ana,” the woman says, smiling at me.

“Jessie,” I murmur. She’s friendly and has a sweet smile, but I can’t help feeling intimidated.

“Do you own this shop?” she asks, obviously recognizing my name from the sign outside.

“I do,” I answer proudly. “I make all of the products myself.”

“Oh gosh! I love it. You’re obviously just the person I need to talk with!” she says excitedly.

“I am?”

“My brother has a beard,” she says, stating the obvious. “And he’s always scratching it, because it’s so itchy and dry.”

“Maybe I just like scratching my beard, Ana. You ever think of that?” Allen complains and he sounds so annoyed I have to resist the urge to laugh.

“Whatever. Do you have something to help him?” she asks.

I look up at her and then back to the man. He doesn’t really seem like he wants my help. That’s confirmed loud and clear when he responds.

“I’m not buying some crap in a bottle for fifty bucks so I will smell like a girl,” he grumbles and then, as if he just remembered I’m there, grudgingly looks up at me with a tagged on “No offense.”

I nod in reply, because I don’t know what to say. I figure my wisest move is to let him and his sister fight things out.



“Will you quit whining? You’re embarrassing her. The prices are very reasonable and I happen to know my man pays you well enough you don’t have to blink at buying beard conditioner,” Ana mutters, walking away from the counter and going over to a corner of the store that has almost black stained shelves with white glass bottles.

“Beard conditioner?” I bark at my sister. She’s lost her mind. “Roman, you need to contain your woman,” I mutter. Roman ignores me, though, as I knew he would.

“Beard conditioner,” she insists, handing me a small bottle. “What about this one?”

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