Fixer-Upper: A Summer Romance (Vale Valley Season 3 Book 15)

by EE Silver

  “Yeah? Okay,” King still looked uncertain, but he still kissed Jonah’s cheek, an unexpected and tingly brush of lips that made Jonah extra glad he’d shaved that morning. “But later, okay? We have work to do, and none of it’ll happen if we’re sucking face.”

  Jonah reached out and cupped King’s cheek, his thumb brushing over the neatly trimmed perma-scruff of King’s almost-beard, losing himself in the deep blue of his eyes. “I already know you have no trouble speaking up when you think someone’s trying to take advantage of you, but I just want to be sure you know you still have a job even if you don’t want to kiss me again. I’m a big boy, and I’ve found the most potent aphrodisiac in the world is enthusiastic consent. If you’re not feeling it, that’s the only thing that matters.”

  King covered Jonah’s hand, keeping it in place so he could turn his head and press a kiss to his palm. “Keep talking like that and you’ll have to hire a contractor and a babysitter because I’ll jump your bones in no time and nothing will get done around here.”

  Even though he said the words, Jonah got the feeling King was perfectly happy to keep a little distance between them for a while yet. “Can’t have that. After all, we need to get that back office finished so Anya and I have somewhere to sleep. I only have the hotel room for two more days, you know.”

  “Well, I don’t want to be the reason you’re homeless,” King said, kissing Jonah’s fingertips once before letting him go.

  Although Jonah found it almost impossible to keep from looking at King for more than a few minutes at a time, they made it through the day’s work without any more flirting. And while yesterday that might have seemed like a sign King maybe wasn’t as interested as he’d made it sound – or that he might have changed his mind, which would have been fine even if Jonah was a little disappointed at the thought—now he knew better. And it didn’t hurt that King seemed to be having the same problem about looking away as Jonah did. It made the work way more complicated than it needed to be, to say the least, but Jonah wasn’t complaining. At all.

  By the end of the day, they had the second coat of paint on back office done and had even done the prep on the other bedroom’s walls before moving on to some prep work on the kitchen. The cabinets looked strange with all their doors taken off, but by the end of the week they’d hopefully have repainted cabinets to go with the replacement flooring and new appliances he’d ordered.

  “It’ll be nice to be able to cook again,” he commented as they cleaned up their tools. “Even if I’m still working on learning how to do anything more complicated than canned soup and mac and cheese.”

  King snorted. “That’s the height of nutrition for you.”

  Jonah lobbed a roll of paper towels at him. “Good thing the baby’s still eating out of jars, huh?”

  “You’ll figure it out.” King tore off a couple pieces of paper and started wiping down the counter they’d just finished cleaning. “If you want, I could help you break in the new kitchen. I know a few recipes from back home Anya would probably be willing to eat once she moves on to solid food.”

  “That would be pretty awesome.” Jonah bit his lip to hold back a smile. As prickly as King was, he’d probably think he was being laughed at. In reality, Jonah was hopelessly charmed. “It’s good to expose kids to different foods early. I’m assuming the recipes are from Jamaica?”

  King looked up, those gorgeous blue eyes wide in surprise. “How did you…?”

  “Your accent. It comes out when you’re flustered,” Jonah said.

  It was kind of cute how King sputtered, not that Jonah was stupid enough to say so out loud. “I don’t know what you mean. I don’t have an accent,” he said, clearing is throat twice in a row as if he could force his voice back to his usual flat American speech.

  Jonah looked away, grinning down at Anya as she crawled around in the area they’d partitioned off for her to play in while they worked. “My mistake. But we’ll have the new appliances in a couple days, if you still want to show off your cooking skills. I don’t remember the last time someone cooked for me. I think I was still living with my foster parents.” Even when things were good with his ex, she hadn’t cooked for him very often, but Jonah wasn’t so stupid as to bring up an ex with King when they were still feeling their way around things.

  “Foster parents?”

  “Yep. My biological parents died when I was 8, and I was taken in by an omega couple.” Just talking about Mark and Steve filled Jonah with a sense of peace. He really should call his dads. “They tried to adopt me, and I’d have gone with it, but I’m sure you can imagine how well an adoption application from two men would have gone over 25 years ago. Especially since I was what you’d call a late bloomer and the court mediator implied it was because of the environment.”

  King scowled, adorably offended on Mark and Steve’s behalf. “That’s bullshit. The human world is full of such bullshit. You’re born wired to love how you’re going to love, just like you’re born an alpha. Living with someone can’t change that. Anyone who believes otherwise is an ignorant bigot.”

  “Oh, I know,” Jonah said easily, crossing the room and leaning against the counter next to King. “But we decided as a family not to try again if it meant some narrow-minded social worker might get the notion I should be moved for my own good. And I think my dads did a pretty good job, even if we never got to share a last name. The only failure was Mark’s attempt to teach me how to cook. I keep trying, but I think it might be the most definitive proof against the nurture argument. Mark is a born homemaker, and he wound up raising a guy whose idea of fine cooking involves reheating cheap canned pasta and sauce in the microwave.”

  For a moment, King’s eyes softened as he looked up at Jonah, then he looked away. “Well,” he said after a beat, “I don’t know if I’ll be able to live up to your expectations of an omega in the kitchen. I’m hardly house spouse material.”

  “House spouse, huh?” Jonah grinned and leaned into King just enough to feel the warmth of him seeping through their shirts. “That’s cute. And don’t worry. I’m under no delusions you’re the happy homemaker type.”

  “Yeah, well, you seem to have that covered plenty.” King said, cheeks darkening with a blush.

  Jonah’s chest tightened as he could help but hope that meant King had thought of the two of them and their uniqueness might be complimentary. The alpha part of him wanted to reach out and pull King close, kiss him breathless right there up against the doorless kitchen cabinets, drag him down the hall and peel their clothes off bit by bit until they were naked, sprawled on the new carpet in the back bedroom…

  “Fuck, Jonah, you’re killing me with those eyes of yours,” King moaned, turning and pinning Jonah against the counter.

  Jonah leaned down enough to pressed their foreheads together, his hands resting lightly on King’s slim hips. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “You’re looking at me like you’re already fucking me in your mind.”

  The groan that came out of Jonah’s throat sounded like it had been torn out of him. “That’s pretty accurate,” he rasped, and brushed feather-soft kisses down King’s cheek. “Do you want me to look away?”

  King hesitated just long enough that Jonah had started to lift his hands by the time King shook his head. “No,” he breathed, their lips almost touching. “Don’t look away. Not quite yet.”

  “King.” Jonah’s throat clicked as he swallowed. “I really don’t want to make you punch me.”

  “Then you’d better fucking kiss me,” King said. His lips brushed the corner of Jonah’s mouth. “You’d better do that right fucking now.”

  He didn’t need to be told twice. Cupping the back of King’s head in one hand, Jonah closed the distance between them. At first, they just kissed long and slow, mouths closed, until Jonah couldn’t take it any longer. He had to taste King, and every second he wasn’t doing so was wasted.

  Nibbling on King’s full lower lip, Jonah teased his mouth open. Whe
n they kissed again, this time their tongues met in a slick caress and the both of them moaned softly. King pressed closer, his dick hard against Jonah’s hip, and Jonah shuddered with the want rushing through him. Gasping for breath, Jonah kissed his way along King’s stubbled jaw, tasting sweat and the faintest traces of salt water. The urge to take and mark, to claim King as his mate even though they’d barely met, surged within him, and Jonah forced his kisses to slow, tapering off into nothing.

  “Gods,” he whispered, forehead resting against King’s. “You taste like you were made for me to kiss.”

  If they hadn’t been so tightly tangled up, Jonah might have missed the sudden tension in King. There and gone in a blink, it was almost like someone had flipped a switch to put distance between them. King laughed, only sounding slightly forced, and pulled away with one last kiss.

  “Don’t be dramatic.” His voice was light, but King was definitely avoiding eye contact. “I should probably go. You’ve got to feed Anya, and I told Katarina I’d be home for dinner.”

  Jonah ran a hand through his hair as he resisted the urge to huff in frustration. King was a damned minefield, and Jonah could only hope he’d be able to figure out what freaked him out about a little sexy talk. But instead of asking, which without a doubt would have freaked King out even further, Jonah managed a smile. “See you tomorrow?”

  “Of course.” King busied himself, straightening the cleaning supplies and tying off the garbage bag. “That’s what I’m here for, isn’t it? Wouldn’t want to disappoint the boss, after all.”

  “Hey.” Jonah took a risk and reached out for King’s shoulder, making sure to keep his grip loose and not at all a grab. “We’re doing this at your speed, remember? And if you decide you want to stop because it’s not working for you, we stop. The only thing I want is for you to want whatever this is as much as I do.”

  That wasn’t entirely true. He wanted King to trust him enough to tell him why he was so gun shy, wanted to rush ahead to the part where they either got each other out of their systems or figured out why there was this pull between them. It was more than basic biology, and Jonah suspected King felt it too, which was probably part of why he was so damn skittish. But those were all things Jonah wanted that could never happen unless and until King decided this was something he wanted at all. And pushing King was obviously the fastest way to ensure Jonah would never get any of what he wanted.

  King stopped his nervous puttering and looked at Jonah with suspicious eyes. “There’s no way you’re this perfect,” he finally said.

  “I leave my wet towels on the floor,” Jonah said with a grin. “I put the toilet paper roll on backwards. I channel surf during commercials. Trust me; I’m the furthest thing from perfect.”

  “Uh-huh.” King cocked an eyebrow at him, then turned away and scooped Anya up into a hug. Jonah said nothing, but the sight of that particular omega nuzzling noses with Jonah’s little girl did things to him inside that had nothing to do with the simmering want that never seemed to be far away when they were within sight of one another. By the time King had returned a giggling Anya to her pack and play, Jonah mostly had himself under control.

  But even so, when King gave him an oddly shy smile and then hurried out the door, it took everything Jonah had to keep from reaching out and begging him to stay forever. King belong there, with Jonah and Anya, and it was killing Jonah to even think about the hours until he’d see the other man again.

  Jonah shook his head at the thought. Everyone grew up hearing stories about fated mates, but then they actually grew up. There was no such thing as a person you were meant to be with forever, just people you were more compatible with than others. And pretending otherwise when the object of his affection was as skittish and damaged as King seemed to be was only going to end in heartbreak and disappointment.

  Still. Jonah sighed, absently rubbing his over his heart as though that could get rid of the loneliness that had settled in the moment the door had closed behind King. A sweeping romance that even the gods couldn’t prevent? It was a nice thought, even though everyone knew there was no such thing in real life.

  Chapter Six

  King

  The next morning, King couldn’t quite make himself get moving.

  Well, not quite true. King woke up before his alarm, already thinking about Jonah and his kisses, thinking about how Jonah tasted like cool, crisp water on a dry day, and how his big arms had made King feel safe instead of trapped. He wanted to rush out to the lake, to surprise Jonah with breakfast and kisses, ask him if he believed in fated mates, and maybe whisper a few more secrets that King had been holding onto for decades. He wanted to pack his bags and move into the lake house and never leave Jonah and Anya ever again.

  It was foolish. Dangerous. He barely knew Jonah, and King was too damn old to be acting like a selfish child who didn’t have to worry about things like consequences and what might come with tomorrow. Hell, King could barely remember a time when he was that child, so there was no excuse for him to be acting that way now.

  Which was why he dragged his feet all morning, wasting time and aimlessly moving around his cousin’s house like a man who most certainly did not have a potential mate waiting on him across town. Besides, it was gray and overcast outside, the clouds rolling with just enough menace to keep sensible people indoors. Not that a merman had anything to fear from a little rain. But it was bad enough King’s job had forced him into wearing cheap off-the-rack clothes by necessity, he didn’t need to get them wet and add insult to injury. So he stayed in a little while longer, even made himself a full breakfast and coffee, taking the time to savor every last sip until Katarina walked into the kitchen at around ten, blinking at him in surprise.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” She poured herself a cup and took the seat across the table from him, her too-knowing eyes pinning him to the spot.

  King squirmed. “You and I both know I don’t actually need the money.”

  “That’s not the point. I’ve never known you to play hooky.”

  “A guy can change.”

  Katarina rolled her eyes. “A guy, yes. You? Not so much. It’s one of your better qualities, how constant you are.”

  He frowned at his coffee. “Most of the family would disagree with you. Scott’s been trying to get me in anger management counselling for ages.”

  “That’s just surface stuff,” she said, waving her hand. “You and I both know that storms might rage above, but the deeper waters will always run true.”

  It was such a merfolk thing to say, and for a moment, King let himself feel all the homesickness he’d been denying for years. He blinked away a sudden tide of moisture in his eyes and cleared his throat, nodding once in gratitude.

  “So why are you here and not where you’ve promised you’d be?” Katarina leaned over the table, frowning in concern. “Did he…you didn’t have to punch him, did you?”

  King laughed, a sharp bark of sound that startled the both of them. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “Quite the opposite, if I’m honest.”

  “Oh good.” She smiled, bright and pretty. “I was worried my vision was wrong.”

  “Your…” King finally looked up at her. “You didn’t say anything about a vision before.”

  She shrugged. “I know how you feel about seers having anything to say about your fate,” she said. “And I’ve found it’s usually for the best to let things play out on their own.”

  When Katarina had come into her seer powers fifteen years ago, the entire family had been beside themselves with joy. Everyone except King, who had been born under a prophecy that had nearly destroyed him in trying to follow. The only reason he was willing to live under the same roof as the current family seer was because Katarina was much better at minding her own business than her predecessor.

  “Anything I should know?” King finally asked. Just because he didn’t like having people tell him his future, didn’t mean he was stupid, after all.

  Katari
na cocked her head to the side, thinking it over. “Two things,” she said after a while. “One, if you let fear be your guide, you’ll never experience joy.”

  “You sound like a fortune cookie,” he groused.

  “Shut up,” she said, flipping him the bird. “Giving you what you want is a tight rope to walk and you know it. The alpha who wins your heart is going to have to be one hell of an acrobat.”

  She had a point. “Fair enough. And number two?”

  Katarina’s smile turned wicked. “Scott’s right. Listen to him about your love.”

  “Ugh.” King laughed. “Now I know you’re making shit up. Scott’s an emotionally stunted idiot.”

  “Pot, meet kettle.” Katarina stood and collected both their mugs, taking them to the dishwasher. “Now get to work before your boy thinks you’ve skipped town, would you?”

  “He’s not my—” King stopped the protest even before Katarina could shoot him the dirty look he absolutely did not deserve. “All we’ve done is kiss. We’re hardly going steady.”

  Katarina rolled her eyes. “You’re an impossible brat. Get the hell out of my house and get to work, deadbeat.”

  Having been raised by some of the most powerful magic beings in existence, King knew better than to push his luck. Instead, he grabbed his keys and drove across town to the lake. Finally on his way now, King couldn’t help but acknowledge the happy current in his soul making his foot a little heavier on the gas. If his cousin’s husband or one of his deputies had pulled him over, King would have blamed it on being late for work, but fortunately he didn’t have to try out that particular lie.

  Besides. Alone in his car with no one to see him, King could admit that he missed Jonah. And it was nice to just let that feeling spread out in his chest, lightening more and more the closer he got to the house. Even the clouds eased up, the storm rolling away like it hadn’t even been a possibility, and King smiled at the way the world seemed to come alive in the sudden sunlight.