Tasting His Omega: A Mapleville Celebrity Chef Novel: MM Non Shifter Alpha/Omega Mpreg (Mapleville Omegas Book 4)

Home > Other > Tasting His Omega: A Mapleville Celebrity Chef Novel: MM Non Shifter Alpha/Omega Mpreg (Mapleville Omegas Book 4) > Page 5
Tasting His Omega: A Mapleville Celebrity Chef Novel: MM Non Shifter Alpha/Omega Mpreg (Mapleville Omegas Book 4) Page 5

by Lorelei M. Hart


  I’d had a little problem lately, one that we didn’t speak of, like Voldemort. The honest truth was, I’d been dealing with it for years, but hadn’t told the doctor until after that night with Harrison.

  Apparently, the shortness of breath, constricting chest, and feeling like the entire skyline was quaking on top of me wasn’t normal.

  Who knew?

  Blood rushed to my head as I bent forward and made myself focus on the water—how it rippled, what color it was—how Harrison was carrying my child and wanted nothing to do with me.

  I straightened and covered my face with my hands.

  Who cares. I didn’t need him anyway. I’d be a shitty father. Anyone who knew me knew that.

  Maybe he just used me as I’d intended to use him that night. He got pregnant on purpose. He just wanted a kid, and here I was like a loser, seeing if he actually wanted something with me.

  I slapped myself on the forehead, hard. That wasn’t Harrison. As little as I knew of him, that wasn’t the kind of person he was.

  “Lucas, the producers will be here this afternoon. Do I need to reschedule?”

  I could tell by his voice that he’d gotten closer to me. It made my skin itch to think about him being closer. When I was like this, I didn’t want anyone within a mile of me.

  My face flushed as I realized I was wrong.

  Right this moment, there was nothing I wanted more than to have Harrison’s arms wrapped around me, his calming voice whispering in my ear that everything would be all right, while his beard brushed against my neck.

  He didn’t want me for my celebrity, but who I’d become was the only thing I had in this world.

  Chapter Twelve

  Harrison

  “Jaxon, if you wanna lift, you need to get a move on it.” When I agreed to apprentice Henry’s son after his life fell into the toilet, I wasn’t surprised his work ethic erred on the side of nonexistent. That I could work with. What had taken me aback was his inability to stay in the present. He was always disappearing into his head and missing things I mentioned to him. Things like, “I’m heading into town in five minutes if you want a ride.”

  “Sorry, boss.” He grabbed his coat. “I was just thinking—”

  “About?” I wasn’t even sure why I asked. That phrase usually was the start of some weird plan of his to make me famous. I very much did not want to be famous. I made enough of a living to be comfortable and enjoyed living in Mapleville where everyone knew my name because I was local, and not because I went viral on the Internet or whatever cockamamie idea he was conjuring up.

  Great. That led me back to thinking about Lucas. It had been three days since he was picked up by the man from before, not that I was jealous. It wasn’t as if he were mine. He couldn’t be. Not really. He was here being famous, bringing a touch of that fame to our town, and then he was going to be gone.

  “Boss!”

  I snapped out of my inward spiral of why things couldn’t work. I’d been traveling that path far too often lately.

  “What?”

  “Were you even listening to me? I swear you are turning into me.” That gave me pause. I assumed he was spacey because he just was. Jaxon didn’t know a ton about my situation, but he knew enough to know I was not in the best of places emotionally.

  “Nope. No cameras and pretty pictures for me. I am all about the wood.”

  “You do know how awful that sounded.” Jaxon chuckled. Yeah, it really did.

  “I am aware,” I scoffed, jingling my keys. “You want a ride or not?”

  “I guess,” he sighed. “I need to find my own place.”

  That had been a common theme to Jaxon’s angst since he moved back, but as far as I could tell, he did not a thing to alleviate it. Nothing. For all I knew, the salary I paid him went to past debts or something because, from what I saw, he wasn’t spending it on take-away or fancy gadgets even though Jaxon was all about the gadget.

  “Living with your dad stressful?” I’d lived with my grandfather until the day he passed, first as child then as caregiver. For me, it was how things were, and I never regretted a day of it, but I knew I was unusual for my generation.

  “That and I feel like I let him down. You know?” Jaxon closed his eyes, pressing them with the heels of his hands. “I got all that insurance money when my grams died, and what did I do? I forgot where I came from, I forgot the man he raised me to be.”

  “It’s not really my business, but your dad seems to be glad you’re home and worried about you, not disappointed.” Henry was always proud of Jaxon, even when, by all accounts, he shouldn’t have been.

  I didn’t know all of Jaxon’s story, but he was infamous locally for inheriting a huge sum of money from a grandmother he hadn’t known existed and then running off to be important. Who thought giving an eighteen-year-old a shit-ton of money and then setting him loose in the world was a good idea?

  “They’re worried about you, too.” Jaxon gave me the look, the one Vivian was famous for. It was almost amusing seeing him pick up her characteristics as he got to know his new stepmother. Almost, except when it revealed they were worried about me. They had their own lives to deal with and didn’t need that extra burden.

  “You are not really good at the subtle change of subject,” I said, trying to do the same thing.

  “No. Subtle was never my thing.” He slammed his hands into his coat pockets.

  “I know they’re worried, and it will all work out.” And it would, too. It had to. I had another human needing me to get my shit together.

  “You’re a single omega who’s knocked up. That’s not the best situation.”

  He wasn’t wrong.

  “Ahhh, but I am a single omega who is financially stable, lives in a supportive community, has a fairly meh assistant, and a Vivian who already wants to spoil my child rotten.” Because, yeah, I had made the list in my head numerous times as I tried to figure this out. “I’d say I am in a better place than most mated pairs expecting their first.”

  “But the alpha.” Jaxon bit his lip, looking down as if he had just stepped on a land mine.

  “What will be will be with that.” I shrugged, in no way mad at him as he appeared to fear I’d be.

  “You like him.” It was a statement, not a question, and he was right. I did. More than.

  “Of course I do—that’s usually how these things happen.” I rubbed my belly for good measure, winking, trying to lighten things up.

  “You know what I mean. If you want to talk or something.”

  I walked to the door, opening it in a very in-your-face hint. “I’ll take that under advisement.”

  “You do realize I call dibs on your newborn pictures—oh, and your paternity shoot,” he bantered as he walked by me and out the front door.

  “You and your camera. Why did you agree to be my assistant when your heart is in photography?”

  That stopped him dead in his tracks.

  “I’m saving my money for some photography and business classes at the college.”

  So many things clicked into place when he uttered those words. He was far less wayward than I had thought.

  “So you have a plan.” I nodded, closing the door behind us.

  “I do, but don’t tell Henry. He thinks this is my plan, and it gives him comfort.” He pointed to my workshop, and he was right. Henry did like him working with me. He thought I was a responsible adult, which, given my current situation, was pretty darn amusing.

  “Deal.” I headed to my truck. “Ready,” I called back when he didn’t follow me, instead staring at his phone.

  “Ready.” He put the phone back in his pocket and jogged to the truck. “And, Harrison. Give the hot chef dude a chance.” He slapped me on the shoulder playfully, but there was a serious tone to his words. Jaxon was an interesting fellow.

  “I will. I’m just trying to figure out how.” I climbed into the truck and buckled my seat belt as he got in on his side.

  “We are so different,
” I continued. And really that was the crux of all of it.

  “You both create with your hands.”

  “And he does it for fame. I do it for financial stability.” I started the truck and put it in gear.

  “Same thing, if you ask me,” Jaxon replied before taking out his phone again.

  Shit. What if Jaxon was right and I had the entire fame thing wrong?

  Chapter Thirteen

  Lucas

  “You’d, of course, give me the theme in advance, so we can prepare properly.” It wasn’t a question, more like a polite demand. Vivian was a breath of fresh air in my line of work. She didn’t compromise or kiss my ass just because I was known.

  She was who she was—no sorries about it.

  “I can give you that now.” I pulled a folded piece of paper with the show’s cooking schedule on it.

  “Oh, this will do just fine. Kayson and I will have the flowers over every morning. Kayson is my nephew but more like a son. He and his husband have a baby and another on the way. Are you married?”

  Her smirk told me she knew I wasn’t married. There was no ring on my finger. It was a question that led to a discussion—or at least, she wanted it to. Vivian’s demeanor and charm made me feel like I knew her—could trust her.

  I trusted no one.

  And yet, my mouth began to run.

  “I’m not married. I have—there’s someone. He’s pregnant with my child. But he’s not really…”

  “He’s not into you.”

  I laughed but then sobered. “I think he is. I hope he is. He…you know him.” I remembered that Vivian was with Harrison when they went into the hardware store before, in town. “You already know the story, right?”

  “I may have speculated, but I’d enjoy hearing it from the source. I love a juicy story.” She shimmied her shoulders a little.

  “He doesn’t like the fact that I’m famous or a celebrity or whatever he thinks of me. But, when I’m with him, I’m just Lucas.” I sighed heavily and chuckled.

  “Why stop now?? You were just getting started.”

  “I’ve worked hard to get where I am, Vivian, and now this one thing that I hold so dear is the one thing stopping him from wanting me.”

  “Speak of the devil.” Vivian stood up and opened the door. A young man walked through, followed by the one man in the world for me.

  “Vivian, I know you have some cookies in here.” Harrison shut the door behind him and made his way to the kitchen, never sparing a glance my way. I smothered a grin at his cravings.

  “Harrison, there’s only chocolate chip. If I had known you were coming, I’d have baked your favorite, oatmeal raisin.” Vivian zeroed in on me while she spoke. A hint about the man carrying my baby. He loved oatmeal raisin cookies.

  Oatmeal raisin cookies I could do in my sleep—and a million varieties of them, too.

  “I don’t care. I just need sugar…” Harrison came back into the room with one handful of cookies and another hand holding an enormous glass of milk with ice in it—tragic. “Lucas?” he said around a mouthful of said sugar.

  “I should go.” I jumped up and grabbed my keys, which I had set down on Vivian’s coffee table.

  “No, don’t go, Lucas. There’s no reason we can’t all be friends.”

  There was no way Vivian could’ve planned this, since I was the one who requested a private place for our meeting, but from the glint in her eye, she was overjoyed at the circumstances.

  Harrison looked stunned. Like I was invading his safe zone.

  “I’m gonna go.”

  I started toward the door, pushing down the need to go to him and wrap my arms around him, envelop myself in his smell.

  “Don’t go, Lucas. There’s no reason we can’t…”

  Stand in the same room like perfectly civil enemies?

  “Yes, come on, gentlemen. Oh, Henry should be here. If you all were interested in women, there would be trouble brewing.”

  Vivian certainly knew how to break the tension in the room.

  She continued, “Harrison, I saw Lucas’s set today. I think he has a dozen of every project you’ve ever attempted.”

  Harrison settled in a chair across the room. My chest burned with need to be next to him. He wore a navy T-shirt stretched a little over his belly. I barely stopped myself from smiling.

  “Oh? My stuff?”

  He seemed genuinely stunned that I would try to keep a piece of him with me.

  “I bought you out that day at the craft fair, remember? Well, not me, but my assistant did, at my request, when I went outside to hide from the crowds.”

  “I remember that day well.” He stuffed another cookie into his mouth.

  “Lucas, do you know Jaxon? He takes all the pictures of Harrison looking fine—working around his shop—and the pictures of all of his projects.”

  I nodded at the kid who was shuffling his feet back and forth. At least I wasn’t the only one in the room feeling the awkwardness.

  “Nice to meet you, Jaxon. You’ve done some great work. I’ve been following the Instagram account and the blog.”

  “Thank you.” Jaxon took the praise.

  “You’ve been following me? I mean the account?”

  I nodded. “I have.”

  “It’s the only account he follows,” Vivian chimed in. “What? I follow the Instagram. I know what’s up.”

  I believed her.

  “It is, actually.” I shrugged, unashamed of my desire to know what Harrison was doing. “I didn’t find out about it until a few weeks ago when we chose Mapleville for the show’s home, but it’s really well done.”

  Jaxon nodded and the tips of his ears blushed a little.

  “Would it be okay if I came to see the set?” Harrison spoke up. The sound of my heart throbbed in my ears.

  I cleared my throat, certain my voice would break if I didn’t. “Of course. I can take you over there whenever you have time.”

  He set down the cookies and milk and wiped his hands on the thighs of his jeans. “I have time now.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Harrison

  Lucas stared at me. His jaw dropped open exactly one beat before he schooled his face, bade Vivian goodbye, and led me out the door.

  “I want to drive,” I announced, sounding like an asshat. I was nervous as heck and being in my grandad’s truck comforted me. Sure, I could have gotten multiple trucks for what I’d spend on it over the years, but it was worth every penny.

  “I said I’d take you.”

  “Last time we were together, you left early and had a ride in only a few minutes. I don’t have that at my disposal.” If he left early, even by my request, it would mean I was hoofing it or calling Vivian, and neither sounded ideal.

  “You think we are going to fight?” He took a step toward me, something brewing in his eyes, his voice nonchalant.

  “I think it’s cold, and my truck is warmed up.”

  He gave a subtle nod, the discussion over as we both closed the distance to my truck and climbed inside, turning the heat on full blast as soon as the engine was on. Contrary to what I’d promised, the cold had managed to bite through any of the remaining heat.

  “Where to?”

  “The restaurant.”

  “I thought you said a set.” Or was it Vivian who said it. Surrounded by his scent, I had not a clue what my name even was, and, given the temperature, opening the windows wasn’t an option. “Wouldn’t be that in a warehouse or something?” I had no clue how the entire television thing went, but I was fairly sure that was how it worked.

  “It isn’t really a set, even though technically it is.” His hand grazed my thigh before he snapped it back. Maybe he was as affected by my scent as I was his. “We’re doing it in the old Greek restaurant. Do you know it?”

  I couldn’t help but laugh.

  “We’re in Mapleville. It’s either The Diner or home, since that place closed down. Everyone knows it.” And a few actually missed their less than
stellar hit-or-miss meals. Although, given that all weddings, birthdays, and anniversaries now had to take place in the church basement, town hall, or the Moose Club, I could almost understand why.

  “Set sounded pretentious, didn’t it.” I could hear him shuffling, turning his body to me, but refused to look. If I did, I’d end up pulling over and kissing him senseless. I knew some of that was his scent and some of it my hormones from being pregnant, but most of it was just Lucas.

  “A wee bit, yeah,” I admitted before reaching to the side, hoping he would realize I was looking for his hand and give it to me. He did. “You aren’t, though. I mean, not really.” I gave his hand a squeeze.

  “I try not to be,” he admitted. “I was trying to put my best foot forward and then you asked me to leave.” He didn’t bother to try and hide the hurt.

  “I panicked. I’d just found out I was pregnant and then you came to town and so did everyone on the planet, and it was too much.” I took my hand from his as I hit the directional and turned into the parking lot. “Here we are.”

  I climbed out of the truck faster than I should’ve and slipped on black ice below me, catching myself on the truck door. I knew better. I’d lived here my entire life, but I had been so quick to get out of his scent and to clear my head before I said or did something stupid, that I didn’t pay attention.

  “You okay?” Lucas’s arm wrapped around me. The guy must’ve flown out and around the truck, his worry echoing in my ear.

  “I’m fine.” I let go of the door, leaning into him slightly before stepping back and closing the truck. “Black ice.”

  “Or running away from me.” He was only half teasing, and I immediately felt like dirt.

  “More trying to get away from your scent.” I turned to face him, our bodies inches apart. It was all I could do not to close that distance. “I have trouble thinking when we are in enclosed spaces like that.”

  “Tell me about it.” He kissed my cheek before taking my hand. It was both unexpected and sweet. “This okay?” he asked, indicating our connected hands.

  “Yeah.” I smiled before catching myself looking around the parking lot. “Maybe.” I shrugged. “Yes.” It was too much. I could give two shits what Mapleville thought about Lucas, the baby, and me, but knowing our child would be fodder for the media, something they might discover as they got older, that just didn’t set well with me.

 

‹ Prev