by Arden Blair
Ryan bit into his cheek and tried not to smile again at the nervous display. He just nodded instead, his gaze as steady and patient as when he was stalking deer in the forest. Watching the omega struggle for words was the most entertainment he’d had in a long time.
“Not for any other reason,” Toby kept going. Eventually his back hit the wall. “I think I should probably get going.”
“Did you get everything you needed?” Ryan asked, letting his voice linger suggestively on the last word.
He didn’t know why he was playing with Toby when he had no intention of doing more. Maybe it was something about his wide eyes and nervous chattering that reminded him of a rabbit. One that tried to flee and hide away under the nearest cover. It brought out Ryan's primal urge to pursue. To hunt him down and capture him…if only for a while.
Only for as long as it took for his knot to grow and then subside.
No. That was too much. Toby could barely handle the scent of his sweat and a couple of teasing jokes. There was no way he’d be able to handle what Ryan would do to him.
All the new and complex emotions he could make the little omega feel.
Toby seemed to know it too. His mouth hung open for a fraction of a second. Then his tongue flicked out to wet his lower lip before finally answering.
“If I need anything else for the story, I’ll be sure to let you know,” he managed to say in a voice that bordered on professional.
Then he turned and started walking toward the front door. Ryan didn’t follow or say goodbye. He figured he’d taunted the poor omega enough. He might as well let him leave with some sense of pride.
Sure. That was why he did it.
Not because after all the flirting the intoxicating scent of omega was hanging like a perfumed cloud in his house. Not because Ryan knew that if he had to walk through it to see Toby out, he might lose track of his better judgement.
Ryan waited until Toby had disappeared up the basement steps before he drew in a deep breath. Even then, he stayed below until the sound of the front door opening and closing echoed down the staircase before he locked the storage room back up.
Then he went outside and picked up his axe. Might as well get back to work.
God knew he had some pent-up energy to work off.
4
“What a great idea,” Bailey exclaimed loudly when Toby finished telling him and Uncle Roscoe about the trap cameras. They were seated around the dining room table along with Justin, having a rare dinner all together. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of it myself.”
Roscoe rolled his eyes. “I can.”
Toby knew his great-uncle didn’t mean the insult. Not really, anyway. For all the jabs the old men threw back and forth, they really did care about each other…maybe more than cared.
Toby had never been quite sure of that. Sure, he knew that Uncle Roscoe and Bailey were business partners. They ran the Times together. But whether or not they were partners in the other sense…well, Toby had never been courageous enough to ask.
He was curious, sure. Toby had always figured that if Roscoe wanted people to know, he’d say so. God knew, he didn’t have trouble talking about anything else.
“But you’re right,” Uncle Roscoe continued. “It is a damn fine idea. Maybe we’ll finally catch this thing once and for all.” He turned his attention toward Toby. “You said this trapper came up with the idea?”
Toby nodded.
“And he lives all alone out in the woods?” Bailey asked, sounding more than a little suspicious of Ryan.
“As far as I could tell,” Toby said. He knew it was a half-answer, but he figured the less he talked about Ryan, the better. He’d spent the rest of the afternoon desperately trying to forget what an ass he’d made of himself in front of the alpha. The last thing he was about to do was to share his embarrassment with Uncle Roscoe and Bailey. They would never let him live it down.
But if he was being honest, his mortification went deeper than that. Toby hadn’t even shared the way he’d acted with Justin, and he was the closest thing he had to friend in this town.
The truth was, he was ashamed. Truly ashamed. He hadn’t acted that way around an alpha…well, ever. He didn’t flirt or come on to them in bars. He certainly didn’t start to salivate or slip into heat simply by catching their scent. It just wasn’t who he was raised to be.
Today had to be an aberration. A momentary break caused by stress and pressure. Nothing more. It sure as hell was never going to happen again. Mostly because he had no plans of ever seeing Ryan Homewood again. Justin could return the trap cameras.
“I don’t trust people who live outside the city limits,” Bailey grumbled, looking down at his dinner plate. “Never have.”
“Why not?” Justin asked his dad.
“Always seemed like they had something to hide,” he answered. “Why else wouldn’t they want neighbors?”
Justin shrugged and stabbed at his asparagus. “Some people like their solitude. They like the quiet.”
“Or people constantly poking into their private life,” Toby snuck in.
Bailey shook his gray head. “It’s not right, I tell you.”
“So, where are you going to place the cameras?” Uncle Roscoe asked.
“I think we’re going to keep that confidential,” Justin said.
Roscoe’s eyes widened. He leaned back in his wheelchair. “Even from us? Why in the world would you do that?”
Justin didn’t bother looking up from his plate. “To ensure the integrity of the investigation.”
“Surely you can’t believe that Roscoe and I would stoop so low as to tamper with the evidence. Not with something as important as the Phantom Pooper.”
Toby bit into his lip, desperately trying to hold back his laugh. Oh, he could believe that and a whole lot worse out of the pair. He knew how important that headline was to them. They’d do anything to make sure it turned out the way they wanted.
Fortunately, Justin turned out to be far more professional than Toby. He looked his dad dead in the eye. “I know that. And you know that. But what about the people of Pup’s Creek? From what I hear you have some bridges to mend, and a little bit of solid investigative journalism might go a long way in helping with that.”
Bailey had the decency to look ashamed. He pressed his lips together tight and glanced down at his plate. But not Uncle Roscoe. He crossed his arms in front of his chest as his gaze took on a steely glint.
“Are you sure that’s what this is about?” It wasn’t exactly a question. He sounded like he’d already made up his mind what the answer was. The only trouble was, Justin didn’t know his great-uncle the way Toby did.
He fell right into his trap.
“What else could it be?” Justin asked.
“Well, if only you and Toby know where the camera traps are, then you two will get to spend a lot of time together…placing them…checking them…going over the evidence. All of it alone together.”
Bailey’s eyes lit up at Roscoe’s words. “Oh, that’s true!”
The hope in the old beta’s voice squeezed Toby’s heart like a vise. He shook his head. “Please stop. I promise you that is not what’s going on here.”
But there was no stopping Uncle Roscoe and Bailey now. They were already lost in the fantasy they’d had since Justin and Toby were kids.
“Oh, it’s finally happening,” Bailey exclaimed. “They’re going to become mates, and take over the newspaper together, and then you and I can spend our retirement years looking after little pups as they go off to work every morning.”
“For the thousandth time,” Justin said. “Toby and I are not going to get married. We’re not even attracted to each other. We’re just friends.”
Bailey rolled his eyes. “Just friends? I’ve heard that one plenty of times. You two have always spent a lot of time together for two people that are just friends.”
Justin hung his head. Toby could see the strain of the conversation was getting to him
. And this was just his first dose. The alpha didn’t have to live with it day in and day out like he did.
“Yeah, Dad,” he said with unveiled exasperation in his voice. “That’s what friends do.”
“So do lovers,” Uncle Roscoe chimed in.
Toby hit his breaking point. He threw down his napkin and leaned forward his chair.
“Justin and I are not lovers. We’ve never been lovers. And we’re never going to be mates.”
Roscoe didn’t flinch. If anything, a half-smile teased at the corners of his lips. Damn, Toby should have known better than to go up against his great-uncle. He might be old and physically fragile, but he was a master manipulator.
“Prove it.” Roscoe demanded.
Toby tried not to wince at the challenge. He looked over at Justin.
It didn’t help. The alpha looked just as lost as he was. They’d been stuck in the same crazy conversation for nearly twenty years now. But somehow now it felt unbearable. They needed to end it.
But how? How the hell could he prove that something wasn’t happening between him and Justin?
By making them believe that he had fallen in love with someone else.
The answer came to him in a flash.
In the next moment a thousand warning bells rang out in his mind. It was a terrible idea. A horrible one. Roscoe and Bailey were world-class snoopers. They’d find a way to poke their nose into his life and sniff around until they’d rooted out the truth.
Unless they were stuck in town and the pretend object of Toby’s affections lived somewhere that was a real pain in the ass to get to…and didn’t have many visitors.
Oh God, no. This was the worst idea that he’d ever had.
Then again, this was the worst visit to Uncle Roscoe’s he’d ever had, and he was only four days in. Toby still had two full months of this hell to look forward to. At least.
Two months of incessant questioning about his feelings toward Justin. Two months of meddling in his love life. Two months of pure misery.
Surely, one little lie was understandable in the face of all that. He only prayed that he wouldn’t regret it. Drawing in a deep breath, he ignored all the warning bells going off in his head.
“If I was Justin’s lover, then I wouldn’t be going out on a date with another alpha tomorrow night, would I?” Toby said quickly before he could lose his nerve.
Bailey gasped, and Toby felt a slight sting over causing him pain…even though the old meddler had brought it on himself. Even Roscoe showed some surprise. His eyebrows shot up. Apparently, he wasn’t expecting that answer.
“You have a date?” Roscoe asked.
Toby tried not to take offense at his tone. “I do.”
His uncle’s gaze narrowed. “”With who?”
“With the tracker I visited today,” Toby lied. “He asked me out when he loaned me the cameras.”
Roscoe’s eyes were like slits now. “Really?
“Is it really that hard to believe that someone would ask me out?”
“It’s not that,” Justin answered. “I think we’re all just surprised that you said yes.”
Toby shot his friend a sharp look. Damn it. Didn’t the alpha see he was doing this for his benefit too? Besides, Justin was making him sound like a prude. Toby went out. He had fun.
Sometimes…
Occasionally…
If his parents allowed him to.
“So where is he taking you?” Roscoe asked.
Uh, oh. Toby swallowed down hard. He knew that look. Roscoe was gearing up for a grilling. Toby should have known this was coming. His great-uncle wasn’t a newspaperman for nothing.
“Le Chevalier Blanc,” Toby said, reciting the name of the only date-worthy Pup’s Creek restaurant he could think of.
“What time?”
“Seven.”
“And he’s picking you up?”
“No, I’m meeting him there.”
Roscoe pursed his lips together tight. His gaze sharpened. “That’s… convenient.”
Toby squared his shoulders. He was in it now. This was no time to show fear. “I didn’t want my personal life to interfere with your recovery.”
Roscoe gave a knowing smile. “That’s sweet of you,” he said. “But I’m not an invalid. I insist on meeting the alpha who’s taking my nephew out.”
Toby stared across at his uncle. Shit. He’d backed himself into a corner. If he refused, he knew Roscoe would call him out on his lie. He didn’t have a choice.
“Fine.” The word tasted sour on his tongue. “Please excuse me. It’s been a long day.”
Toby got up from the table, his dinner still half eaten on his plate, but his appetite had abandoned him. It wasn’t surprising, given what he was going up to his room to do now.
It was the last thing in the world he wanted to do. And he had no one to blame but himself.
5
Ryan glanced over at his phone as the ringtone started playing. He didn’t recognize the number, so he went back to flipping his steak over in the pan. A few moments later, the call went to voicemail.
That was fine. Whoever it was could leave a message.
He was just reaching into the fridge to pull out some butter when his phone went off again.
Same number.
The mystery caller certainly wanted to talk to him. Ryan wiped his hands off on the kitchen towel draped over his shoulder, and put the call on speaker.
“This is Ryan Homewood.”
“Um…hey, Ryan.” The skittery voice on the other side filled his kitchen. He didn’t need an introduction to know who that voice belonged to—the adorable little omega whose scent had lingered in his living room all afternoon. “This is—”
“Toby Martin,” he said. “I know.”
Ryan's smile widened as the pause on the other end stretched out. “You know my number?” he asked.
“No, I remember your voice.” Light and sweet, the sound of it had stuck in his mind all day. More than he wanted to admit. “Though I have to be honest. The way you rushed out of here today, I didn’t think that I would ever hear from you again.”
“Yeah, well…about that.” Another pause.
Ryan pulled a plate down from the cupboard as the silence stretched on. “You still there, Toby?” he said with a laugh.
He knew the omega was there, and nervous as hell by the sound of his short breaths. Whatever Toby had called to say, it was bound to be good.
“You know the faster you tell me what’s on your mind, the faster you’ll be out of your misery,” Ryan told him.
A long sigh came from the other side. “I’m not sure that’s true.”
Really? Well, scratch good. This was bound to be hysterical.
“Either way, you might as well go for it,” Ryan said, plating his steak and tossing a couple of rolls on the side. “You know I can’t bite over the phone.”
Toby’s nervous laugh made it clear he wasn’t so sure, but at least he mustered up the nerve to start talking. “You know how I said I was Roscoe Martin’s great-nephew?”
“Sure. Takes a lot of courage to admit a thing like that,” Ryan teased.
“You have no idea,” Toby sighed. “Well, his partner Bailey has a son. His name is Justin.”
Ryan poured himself a glass of red wine. “The journalist who’s taken over The Pup’s Creek Times? We’ve talked over the phone. Seems like a nice guy.”
“He is,” Toby said. “Great alpha. Known him all my life.”
“Seems like a strange thing to call and tell me, but okay.” Unless someone was feeling guilty about all the flood of pheromones he’d left behind in a stranger’s house. “Are you and this Justin a couple?
“God, no.” The words rushed out of Toby’s mouth. There was no hesitation at all. “And that’s the problem. Everyone wants us to be couple, but we’re just friends.”
“Everyone wants this?” Ryan took a sip of wine. Suddenly he was glad he’d picked up the phone. He was right, this was turning ou
t to be much more entertaining that an evening on the couch watching TV.
“Everyone meaning Roscoe and Bailey,” Toby clarified. “And my parents, of course. Most of the extended family as well.”
“You’re right, that is everyone.” Still standing by the kitchen counter, Ryan cut into his steak. Red juice spilled out over the white porcelain plate. Rare, just like he liked it. “And what about this Justin?”
“Truth be told, I’m not even sure he’s into omegas.”
“I can see how that would complicate the situation.”
“Not really,” Toby said, his voice growing faster and higher with every word her spoke. At this rate, the poor omega would be in a frenzy before he was done with the call. “If anything, it makes it even simpler. We’re not a couple and we never will be.”
“Right.” Ryan nodded, and finished his bite. “So, why are you calling me again?”
“Because Roscoe and Bailey won’t stop hounding us to get together.”
Ryan cocked his head to the side. He wasn’t exactly making the connection. “And you want me to give you advice about how to get them to stop?”
“I’m afraid it’s past that point.”
Ryan's brows shot up. He tried not to make fun of the omega’s desperation, but the urge was just too strong. “Well, I hate to disappoint you, but I’m not in the business of shutting someone up permanently. Not even Roscoe. The best I can do is lend you one those guns you were gawking at today, but you’ll have to take care of the dirty work yourself.”
Ryan felt a rush of satisfaction at the shocked gasp that came from the speaker phone.
“I don’t want to kill my great-uncle,” Toby rushed to say.
Damn, this was too easy. Why did this poor omega have to be so much fun to play with? Somehow it didn’t feel fair.
“Bailey, then?” Ryan teased. “Or was it Justin you were looking to take out? Sounds like any of them would solve your problem.”
“Stop it. No one’s dying. Absolutely no one.”
“Have it your way,” Ryan said between bites of steak. “But that still leaves the question of why you’re talking to me.”