by Ardy Kelly
Diana followed him with the remainder of the dishes.
“That was awkward,” David whispered.
Diana set the plates in the sink. “I’m disappointed in him, but not surprised. Don’t worry. We’ve got four months to educate Dad. And Mother,” she added.
“I don’t want to educate anybody. This is why I haven’t told them I’m gay. I’m tired of never living up to their expectations. Dad wanted me to be some alpha wolf. Mother wants me to marry and restore the family line. I just want to live my life without explaining and justifying myself. It’s not like any of this has been a decision.”
The phone rang and Diana picked it up. “Sheriff Chet is at the gate, waiting for you.”
“Just in time.”
Diana held up her hand, and pulled plastic containers from the dish rack. “You should take him something to eat. The best way to a man’s heart is through the stomach.” She winked.
“I’m not interested in his heart.”
Diana stuffed the sealed containers in a bag. “I’m also going to give you the tea and crackers in case your morning sickness comes back. Stick to bland food. Avoid spices, onions, and garlic for now.”
“I can wear it but I can’t eat it? That’s practically a jail sentence for a chef.”
“That’s just the tip of the iceberg, brother.” Diana freshened up David’s neck spices and kissed him good-bye. “Let’s talk tomorrow. I’ll find out when Troy is free. He’s the expert.”
Handing him the bag, they returned to the front room. “Mother and Dad, David has to go now. Sheriff Chet is going to give him a ride back to his car.”
“But we didn’t get a chance to visit,” Raff protested.
“He’ll be back tomorrow,” Diana replied. “And then we can all get caught up on his life.”
David nodded his good-bye, shot his sister a frown, and left as fast as he could. He walked to the guardhouse, keeping clear of anyone who might catch a whiff of him.
He began listing all the difficulties being pregnant would cause. He could hide out here during the four months his pregnancy would take, but he couldn’t hide out for eighteen years until his kid went to college. Friends in San Francisco would want to know how he ended up a father in such a little amount of time. And who the mother was.
The only people he could talk to honestly about this all lived on Lone Wolves Ranch.
Seeing the sheriff’s car at the gate, he quickened his steps. Maybe the sheriff was the perfect person to talk to. Or maybe not. Being pregnant wasn’t dating small talk. If this was a date.
Chet leaned against his car, talking to the guard.
Unsure how effective the pregnancy scent blocker was, David kept his distance from the shifter while nodding a greeting to the two men.
As hoped, the guard nodded back before retreating into the building.
“I know you hate this.” Chet opened the passenger door. “But I’m already here.” He sniffed as David passed. “You smell like a spice rack,” he said before crossing to his side of the car.
“Sorry about that,” he replied when Chet took his seat. “I was trying to throw the wolves off my scent.”
The glint left Chet’s eyes. “Are they bothering you?”
“No. It’s just…it’s a family thing. My sister’s idea.” He rolled down his window, hoping to end the topic. “I brought you leftovers.”
“Great.” Chet executed a perfect three-point turn, and headed toward town. “I hope you don’t mind if we stop at my place before I drive you to Timber Crossing. I prefer not to wear the uniform when I’m off duty.”
His place? “No problem.” Especially if there was an opportunity for more than just a change of clothes. If not, at least he could see Chet in his natural habitat. It would be interesting to know where the sheriff fell on the scale between slob and neat freak.
“Feeling better?” Chet asked.
David nodded. “Much. And you don’t have to worry. It isn’t contagious.”
Chet laughed. “I should hope not.” Turning onto a dirt road, Chet’s lips curled up as he asked, “Any idea how you got it?”
“My neighbor.”
“I thought you said it wasn’t contagious.”
“Uh…his cooking,” David blurted out. “I got it from something he gave me.”
Chet nodded. “So…your neighbor? Are you two dating?”
“No way. I mean, he has a husband.”
“But he was cooking for you?”
“Once,” David answered. “Never again.”
“Glad to hear it.” He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “So, Lone Wolves Ranch gave you a clean bill of health?”
David nodded. “Yep. Everything’s taken care of.”
Chet jerked the car to the side of the road and slammed on the brakes. His steely gaze locked on David. “What do you mean, ‘taken care of’? What did they do to you?”
“They cured me,” David replied sheepishly.
“How do you cure a pregnancy?”
David’s eyes widened and then narrowed. “Did Troy tell you?”
Chet shook his head. “No. I saw it.”
David’s hands slid down to his stomach. “Great. I’m showing already?”
“I saw it in the vortex.”
He sighed in relief that the story wasn’t common knowledge yet. “I forgot. You can tell the future.”
“It’s more like the future tells me. I’m surprised I knew before you did.”
“Nobody’s more surprised than I am. I didn’t know men could get pregnant.”
“You didn’t know you were an omega?”
“You’d be surprised how little I know. I hadn’t even heard about them until today.”
Chet raised an eyebrow but kept silent. He put the car in gear and drove on.
Lost in thought, David stared out the window. “I knew my dad was going to have a problem when I tell him I’m gay, but an omega son will send him over the edge.”
“He only thinks that way because he’s never challenged his beliefs.”
“Is that you talking or the vortex?”
“Just me. This could be good for him.”
David gave a bitter laugh. “I don’t see how this is good for anybody.”
“Maybe you should come clean sooner rather than later. It would be easier on you in the long run.” He patted David’s thigh. “And easier on everyone’s noses in the short run.”
David flipped his shirt collar up to mask the odor. “If you think it will make it easier for me, you haven’t met my family.”
Chet resumed tapping his fingers on the wheel. “So, what’s your plan?”
David tilted his head. “For tonight?”
Chet gazed at the future baby bump.
“There is no ‘plan,’” David replied. “I haven’t even thought how I’m going to get through the pregnancy. I can’t go back to the city. I’ll have to hide out here until I give birth. Hopefully, someone on the ranch will want to adopt it.”
Chet nodded once. “Okay.”
David turned his attention from his belly to Chet. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means okay.”
“No. When you say oh-KAY, that means okay. When you say oh-kaaaayyyy, it implies you have a serious concern for my sanity.”
“You’re reading a little too much into this. I simply said okay.”
“I don’t need a vortex to tell me when someone has an opinion. I have a lifetime of reading between the lines. So, you might as well tell me. What do you think is wrong with my plan?”
Chet turned onto a dirt road. “Your neighbor is the father, right? Won’t he have a say?”
David hadn’t thought of Dominic as “the father” before. Monday, I thought morning sickness was preferable. Right now, I’d be happy with just a simple case of chlamydia.
“He’s mated, and I wouldn’t trust either of those two with a child.” David shivered at the thought. “Just because I don’t want to raise a baby do
esn’t mean I don’t care about him…or her. He can’t know. I’ll have to hide out here, find a couple on the ranch who wants to adopt, and in four months, I get back to my old life.”
Chet parked under a canopy of huge redwood trees. “Or not,” he said matter-of-factly. “You could keep ’em.”
“I can’t go back to San Francisco with a baby.”
He opened the car door. “You don’t have to go back.”
David rolled his eyes. “Can you see me living in Timber Crossing?”
Getting out of the car, he replied, “Maybe I have,” before shutting the door.
There was a clearing to the side of the car with a lone cabin. It was new construction, though the house had a quaint storybook feel.
“This is your home?” David asked. “Is the oven big enough to fit Hansel and Gretel at the same time?”
“Don’t know. I’m not much of a cook.” Chet opened the gate.
“Didn’t take you for a white picket fence kind of guy.”
“That’s only because you don’t know me well.” Chet’s voice dropped an octave. “But we can work on that.”
David’s cheeks heated, and he hurried past him to hide the reaction.
Chet unlocked the front door. “I’ll warn you, it’s a work in progress.”
In sharp contrast to the crisp white fence, the trimmed yard, and the fresh paint, the inside was bare.
Even bare might be an overstatement.
The inside was one great room, though not by design. Two bedrooms had framing but no walls. Even the bathroom lacked a door, though it had pink insulation stuffed between the studs for some privacy.
There was a bed in the far corner, next to a stack of milk crates acting as a dresser. The kitchen counter was a door on sawhorses, as was the desk and kitchen table. His computer was plugged into a bare electrical socket nailed to a stud.
A simple shelf of boards and bricks held a collection of books, many looking too old and valuable to be kept anywhere but a climate-controlled safe.
Yet, there were no signs of ongoing construction.
“Wow. It’s like going from Oz back to Kansas.” David noticed the power tools stacked neatly in the corner. “You’re remodeling this yourself?”
Chet nodded as he removed his tie. “Excuse the mess.”
There was no mess. Not even construction dust. How long had Chet lived here like this?
“I’ll get changed.” Chet began unbuttoning his shirt on his way to the bedroom.
David carried the bag of food to the makeshift kitchen. Between the studs separating the rooms, David watched as Chet revealed his chiseled chest. A stud between the studs. “I’m impressed.”
Chet flashed a suggestive smile.
“About building this yourself,” he quickly added. “I don’t know the first thing about construction. When do you expect to finish it?”
“Shouldn’t be long now,” Chet said, dropping his pants.
David turned hurriedly, as Chet continued talking. “I knew exactly how the outside should look. But I’m open for advice on the interior. Are you in any hurry to get to town?”
“No,” David replied, a little too quickly. “While you change, I can heat up the leftovers I brought for you.”
“Great.”
The “kitchen” consisted of a tiny refrigerator, a hot plate, a microwave, and a coffee machine. A free-standing laundry tub substituted for a sink.
David pulled a mottled brown pot from the dish rack.
Surprised by the weight of it, he examined it closely. “This is copper.”
“Is that okay? It’s all I’ve got.”
David looked up through the studs to catch Chet, in only boxer briefs and socks, searching the milk crates for clothes. “It’s restaurant grade. Where did you get it?”
“A storage locker auction. I’ve got a shed full of the stuff. Feel free to explore.”
The sheriff’s enticing torso caused him to lose track of the conversation. David blinked and held up the pot. “Do you have any copper cleaner?”
“Sorry.”
“Baking soda? Lemons?”
Chet shook his head.
“Ketchup?”
“That I’ve got.”
Turning his back to the bedroom, David took the ketchup out of the fridge. He smeared it over the cookware and let it rest in the sink while he sorted through the leftovers.
When Chet returned, David was scouring the pan. “I stole some steel wool from your stash.” He turned to show Chet the result of his labor.
Though the pot gleamed, it paled in comparison to the sheriff. Dressed in jeans and an electric-blue T-shirt, the clothes were simple enough to be casual, and tight enough to be sinful.
Chet smiled. “Wow, you did that with just ketchup?”
David’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Plus some salt for an abrasive. And elbow grease, of course.”
Chet smiled and his gaze focused behind David. “So, what did you make?”
David blushed. “Sorry. I’m so used to washing dishes after cooking, I forgot the cooking part.”
He put the pan on the counter and opened the containers of food. Between the hot plate and the microwave, he had Chet’s dinner ready in a few minutes.
David pulled the single plate from the dish rack and almost dropped it. He stared at the three colored rings that circled the rim: blue, white, and red.
“Did this plate come from the same auction?” When Chet nodded, David delicately loaded it with food. “This is from Le Mystery. It was a famous three-star Michelin restaurant.”
“The tire company has restaurants?”
David set the plate on the makeshift kitchen table. “You don’t get out much, do you?”
“Blame the picket fence.” Chet took a seat and surveyed the meal. “Looks good.”
David picked up a fork, verifying it also came from auction before handing it to Chet. “Le Mystery was the first West Coast restaurant to get three stars.”
“Isn’t three stars average?”
David laughed. “Three stars is the top. But Le Mystery closed over twenty years ago. Why was all this stored in a locker in Timber Crossing when the restaurant was in San Francisco?”
Chet pierced the meat with his fork. “It wasn’t. The auction was in SF.” He popped the bite in his mouth, closed his eyes, and chewed. “Wow, this is good.”
David nodded his thanks but continued to hover over Chet, waiting for the story.
Chet took another bite before elaborating. “It was an auction at a storage company. I bid on the locker, not knowing what was inside. Paid $235. Did I get my money’s worth?”
“This pan costs twice that. You could sell it and make a profit.”
Chet shook his head. “I’m holding onto it. You never know when it will come in handy. Like tonight.” There was a pause as Chet swallowed another forkful. “There’s a lot more in the shed out back.”
David took a seat. “You go to a random auction, bid on a locker you don’t know anything about, and then just leave the stuff in a backyard shed?”
“It wasn’t random. I knew the address and the locker number. I just didn’t know what I was buying.”
David’s eyebrows met. “Don’t tell me this is another vortex thing.”
Chet shrugged as he chewed. “Okay. I won’t tell you. But if you marry me, everything in the shed will be yours.”
“Don’t tempt me.” David paused at Chet’s serious expression. “You’re kidding, right?”
“The way to a man’s heart…”
“Don’t say it.” Despite the protest, he felt happy Chet’s plate was clean. “You’re a fast eater.”
“Sorry. Comes from having a career of grabbing meals whenever you can.”
David reached for the plate but Chet caught his arm. “You cooked. I wash.” He pulled David with him as he placed his plate in the sink. “I need help designing the kitchen.”
David scanned the space. “Do you want it open or closed off?”
“What do you think?”
“I’m a chef, so I like to entertain from the kitchen.”
Chet nodded. “So, make it an open floor plan.”
“Not quite as open as it is now.” He stepped forward. “The first rule of kitchens is the triangle. It’s made up of the sink, the refrigerator, and the stove. You don’t want them in a line.”
David paced the space, mapping out where the appliances should go. “I’ve always wanted a stove on the island, so I didn’t have to have my back to everyone. And I like a window over the sink.”
Chet grabbed some chalk and started marking off the plywood floor. “What would you do for a floor? Tile?”
He frowned. “It’s hard to sweep. Things get caught in the grout.”
“So, linoleum?”
David shrugged. “It’s practical.”
“It doesn’t have to be practical. What do you like?”
“You’re the one who has to live with it. What’s your idea? Martha Stewart country house? Video game man cave? Maybe you’re more the French provincial type.”
“Do I look like the French provincial type?”
“I don’t know. This place doesn’t give me many clues.”
“It should. It’s been this way for two years.”
David scratched his head. “You’ve lived like this for two years?”
“I didn’t plan it that way. I was just waiting for your opinion.”
“My opinion? Why would you wait for my opinion?”
“I knew you’d be back, eventually.”
“Oh yeah?” David rolled his eyes. “You’re that sure of yourself?”
“I’m that sure of you.”
Unease crept up David’s spine. Chet’s belief they were destined for each other reminded him of Dominic’s cocky attitude.
He flashbacked to a scene from last weekend. Kneeling on the floor, doggy style, while Dominic stood over him and swayed his semi-hard cock in front of his face. “Show me how much you want it, slut. Show me what a little pig you are for me.”
I did. He had done everything the alpha demanded, with no regard for anything but quelling his own burning need. He shivered at the memory.
Chet put a hand on his shoulder. “Are you all right?”
Caught unaware, David jumped at the touch. “Yes. I’m fine.” He pulled away, crossing the room, blurting out design ideas, hoping the patter would distract Chet from the sudden wariness he was feeling.