by Ardy Kelly
Worried the fumes from the Magic Marker might be affecting his mate, Chet approached slowly. “David?”
He looked up. “Did I wake you?”
“No.” Chet stepped into the shed and held out his hand. “But it’s time for bed.”
“But I haven’t even gotten through half the boxes.”
“It’s two in the morning.”
David took hold of Chet’s outstretched arm and pulled himself up. “Help me get the boxes back in the shed. We need to get a lock for this thing.”
“No one is going to rob us.”
“You don’t know how much this is worth.”
“Neither does anyone else. It will all still be there in the morning.” He led David back inside. “Let’s moisturize your belly and get you to bed.”
David took one last look out the window. “Are you sure it’s safe?”
“There’s no way they could drag this out of here without waking us up.”
David had to agree. Pulling his salve from the bag, he frowned at the green tin. “That’s a funny name.”
Chet recognized the packaging. “She gave you Bag Balm. I’ve used that before.”
“What marketing genius came up with the name Bag Balm?”
“It’s for cow udders. To keep them moisturized after milking.”
David slammed the tin down on the makeshift counter. “It’s for cows? I’m supposed to rub cow cream on my body?”
“My aunt swore by it.” He opened the tin. “And she never moo-ed a day in her life.”
David made a face. “It smells like medicine.”
Chet pulled David’s shirt over his head. “Just for a little while.” He opened the tin and scooped some out with his fingers.
“It will get all over the sheets,” David protested.
“I’ll give you a T-shirt.” He gently dragged his fingers across the bare skin and David shivered. “Are you cold?”
David shook his head. “No. It just tingles where you’re touching. You’re not going to cast a spell and have me shoot a watermelon out my ass, are you?”
Chet flattened his hand as he rubbed the thick Vaseline-like lubricant across David’s abs. “That’s not what I’m imagining in your ass right now.”
His hand dipped below the waistband of David’s pants.
“What are you doing—”
“Shh,” Chet whispered in his ear. His hand gripped David’s shaft as his fingers coated it in the balm. “It’s supposed to be soothing.”
“I don’t think it’s making the skin softer,” David replied.
“You’re right. It feels a lot harder than it was a minute ago.”
By the time they fell asleep, both of their stomachs were coated with Bag Balm, among other things.
David woke slowly. Remembering last night, he raced to the window. All the restaurant equipment was where they left it. Once satisfied, he looked to the vortex. Chet was seated inside.
He felt a little guilty at his priorities but reasoned the sheriff could take care of himself. Restaurant-ware needed protecting.
Wearing Chet’s T-shirt like a nightshirt—though it was dangerously close to mini-skirt territory—he stepped outside.
Chet’s eyes were closed and he appeared deep in meditation. Opening the doors of the shed, David winced when it squeaked. Chet didn’t respond.
It was easier to work by sunlight than lantern light, and David quickly identified each remaining box.
Not everything survived twenty years of neglect. Colanders had rusted, whisks had been crushed flat under the weight of the boxes, and dozens of champagne flutes were now thousands of glass shards.
As he labeled and removed the last wall of boxes, two more surprises were revealed: a professional stove and industrial dishwasher.
I could open my own restaurant. David scratched his head, calculating how much he could afford to offer for the whole shed. “He paid how much for this?”
“$235.” Chet was standing at the door, wearing nothing but a pair of running shorts. “Plus the truck rental and hiring a couple of wolves to help me unload. Marry me and it’s all yours.”
“You’ve got a hell of a dowry.” David blinked. “I might have one, too. The non-shifter child always had a dowry, to buy off the husband’s ego regarding the whole Morehouse name thing.”
“Great,” Chet said. “We can put it to the kids’ college fund.”
David sat on a stack of marinating pans. “I can’t open a restaurant. I’m going to be a parent.”
Chet knelt in front of him. “If that’s your dream, we can make it work. But that might mean we will have to live on the ranch.”
“I already came to that conclusion last night. But how can I show my face in town when I’m pregnant?”
“It’s perfect. Nobody trusts a skinny cook.”
“I need a job now before the council meets. I can’t open a restaurant in one week.”
“You’ve already got an interview today.”
No matter how much David pestered him, Chet wouldn’t tell him more about the job offer. By the time they got in the car, David was exasperated. “Since when have you stopped telling me my future? You didn’t have a problem spilling the beans on being mates, or having twins. How am I going to prepare?”
“No preparation needed.”
David crossed his arms. “They tell you to dress like you have the job. It would help to know what the job is.”
“Your clothes are fine.”
“My clothes are from yesterday. I can’t do an interview in my walk of shame ensemble. I still smell like Bag Balm.”
“I don’t want you spending the rest of the ride making up your mind before you’ve heard the offer.”
“So tell me the offer.”
“It’s not my offer to make.”
David blew out a frustrated breath. He tried sulking but couldn’t shake the feeling things had a way of working out in this town.
When they reached the Welcome Inn, David was surprised the sheriff followed him out of the car. “What time is the interview?”
Chet looked up to see Trisha pruning the hedges. “Could be anytime.”
“There you are,” she exclaimed. “You can’t be disappearing when there are plans to be made.”
“I haven’t told him anything,” Chet explained.
Trisha tilted her head. “Why not? I expected to have the menu by now.”
Chet gave his head a slight bow. “I’ll let you two arrange the details. I have a town to serve and protect.” He skedaddled.
David stared at Trisha. “Menus?”
“I’m trying something new. Bed-and-dinner. And I need a chef.”
“B and—”
“Don’t call it B&D. People will think we’re serving something else. I’ve already designed the postcards. And we’re having a trial run Saturday night.”
“This Saturday?”
“Of course. You can’t let an idea this good sit on the back burner. The mayor and her wife have already accepted.” She removed her gardening gloves. “Now let’s figure out how we’re going to seat twenty people.”
At noon, David snuck off to the station house. “I’m supposed to cook a dinner for twenty people this Saturday.”
“And I’m sure it’s going to be wonderful. Let me take you to lunch.”
Expecting Mabel’s Café, he was surprised when Chet drove them to Lone Wolves Ranch.
When they entered a large building, all conversation stopped. David looked around the room. It was a dining hall with a small buffet line for cold food and a couple of short-order cooks.
Steven stepped between the two men, locking elbows with them both. “Everybody has been curious to see you since they heard what happened.”
“I thought everyone knew I was pregnant,” David said.
“Not you,” Stephen replied. “Sheriff Chet. Your garden has become a tourist destination.” He lowered his voice as he spoke in David’s ear. “I hope you don’t expect to use it for the dinn
er Saturday night. It’s been picked over.”
“You know about that?” David asked.
“Of course. Troy has it all arranged. Mack and I are looking forward to it.”
“Troy?” David poked Chet. “I thought it was your idea.”
“It would have been,” Chet replied. “Troy just thought of it first. And set it up with Trisha. Then Trisha called me.”
“He’s creative,” Steven said.
“And persistent,” David replied.
Steven laughed. “We’ve all been there. My first day on the ranch, they warned me not to tell him anything I don’t want in a book.”
“I wish someone had told me,” David whispered.
“It’s useless advice,” Steven replied. “Every book in the Lonesome Wolves Ranch series is based on one of us. But the good part is that once he writes it, he doesn’t butt into your life anymore. And Troy is a good friend to have. Especially for us omegas.”
“I wish he had talked to me first,” David said. “I don’t know how I’m going to cook a fancy dinner for twenty by myself.”
“We’ve got a cooking school here,” Steven said. “Borrow a couple of students. They’d love a chance to work someplace new.”
Steven steered the couple to a door marked Employees Only. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to Manuel. He runs the school.” He stopped before they entered the kitchen. “He’s an alpha. Let him smell your pregnancy and he’ll do anything for you.”
Steven’s advice worked better than expected. In fact, the handsome, dark-eyed chef was so attentive it wasn’t long before Chet draped his arm around David protectively.
“We’ve got a barbecue trailer you could borrow,” Manuel offered. “I doubt Trisha’s kitchen is big enough for a sit-down dinner for twenty.”
“Great. Will I be able to use your suppliers? I don’t have any contacts up here.”
“Sure,” Manuel said. “But you have the best greengrocer in California standing next to you.” He patted Chet on the shoulder. “I’ve been stealing from your garden. The zucchini is awesome.”
“Take anything you want,” Chet answered. “But only from the garden,” he added with a slight growl.
As they left, David whispered, “I think I like seeing you jealous, too.”
“Seeing it is more fun than being it,” Chet answered.
“I agree.”
Over lunch, Steven filled them in on Mack’s progress. “He’s been contacting all the pack alphas in the neighborhood, trying to get ahead of the story the Bay Area pack is spreading.”
David dropped his fork. “I’ve lost my appetite.” He leaned back in the chair. “Don’t forget to remind them no non-shifter omega has ever survived a bite.”
Steven looked pained. “It’s not clear if they care about you. They may just want the cub.”
“Cubs,” David corrected.
“We’re not telling anyone you’re having twins yet. It shouldn’t matter if you’re having one or a litter. This is about omega rights.” Steven stood. “You’ll have to excuse me. I’ve got a science class to teach now.”
After saying their good-byes, Chet took David’s hand. “What do you want to do now?”
David stood. “Might as well check out the tourist attraction.”
They strolled down the tree-lined street. A surprising number of people greeted them by name, smiling at the couple.
The team at the house weren’t tourists. They were pulling the tarp off the roof.
Chet greeted the largest member of the team. “Luke. How’s it looking?”
Luke waved. “I’ll know better once we get the tarp off your ‘skylight.’” He handed Chet and David a hard hat. “Let’s take a look.”
Little had changed inside the cabin since the early twentieth century. It was designed for vacation accommodations, not as a home. The kitchen consisted of a rusted toaster oven, a coffeemaker, and a microwave. The refrigerator was the size of a mini bar.
David shook his head. “I don’t think—”
“Hold on there,” Luke said. “My brother Adam never did a thing with the place, but I’ve remodeled enough of these homes to see the possibilities.” He peered out the back window. “Most of the time, we extend the house farther back into the lot, but I suspect you’re going to want to keep your garden.”
A young woman’s face appeared in the hole above their head. “Nothing’s salvageable up here.”
“Thanks, Lynn,” Luke replied. “Since we’re going to have to tear the roof off, we might as well add a second story.”
“That sounds expensive,” David said.
“The ranch pays for it,” Luke assured. “Larry,” he called. “Check the foundation. See if it needs reinforcing to hold a second floor.”
David nudged Chet. “Your vortex vision didn’t have a second story.”
“It might have,” he answered. “It didn’t show me the whole house. I had to guess at the roof.”
“I’ll draw up a floor plan,” Luke said. “And bring it to the dinner on Saturday.”
David smiled uneasily. “Oh, you’ll be there?”
“I’m as surprised as you are,” Luke answered. “But Troy insisted I come. Nobody can say no to Troy.”
David smiled despite the thought running through his head. There are plenty of other things I’d like to say to him.
Chapter 15
When Saturday arrived, David worried he wasn’t prepared, despite all evidence to the contrary. Manuel’s culinary team had washed, polished, and transported everything needed from Chet’s shed to the Welcome Inn. The sheriff had conjured another vegetable garden in a plot Ricky needlessly prepared. Tables had been set up in the dining room and parlor, per Trisha’s suggestion.
“Best to separate the humans and the wolves during dinner,” she warned. “I’ve seen how much those boys can eat.”
Guests were directed to the backyard garden for wine and light hors d’oeuvres. The locals were surprised to find Chet in a waiter’s uniform, holding the tray of appetizers.
“I’m going to enjoy this,” Mabel remarked to her husband. “Not often enough I’m the customer instead of the cook.”
Lionel was still a bit jealous about his wife’s time in jail. When Diana took longer staring at Chet rather than picking an appetizer, he pulled her away.
“David got the sheriff in a monkey suit?” she asked.
“Must be love,” Lionel replied.
Mack, Troy, Ryan, and Steven (padded to look overweight rather than pregnant) opened their little circle to let the new arrivals in.
Diana fanned herself with her napkin. “I can’t decide whether Chet looks better dressed as a sheriff or as a waiter.”
“Or not dressed at all,” Troy added.
“There’s nothing flattering about being seen as an object,” Lionel replied.
Troy rolled his eyes. “Too bad he’s not a wolf. He’d have to get naked for the full moon.”
“Shh,” Mack warned. “There are townies here.”
Steven nodded. “Tabitha is a terrible gossip.”
“I know,” Troy agreed. “I can’t wait to talk to her.”
As if hearing her name, Tabitha approached the group. “Troy! How is the town’s most famous resident?”
“Don’t let John Muir hear you say that,” he replied.
She reached in her purse. “A house just came on the market and the second I saw it, I thought of you!” She extracted a glossy brochure and held it up. “Six bedrooms, a pool and pool house, wine cellar.” She flipped the brochure open. “And a magnificent library. The perfect home for a novelist of your talent.”
“We’re not looking,” Ryan replied.
Undeterred, Tabitha flipped to the next page. “Close to town, but set back from the road by a magnificent tree-lined driveway, giving you the ultimate in privacy.”
Ryan took one look at the photo and shook his head. “Nobody wants to haul garbage cans that far.”
“Hmm.” Troy flipped throu
gh the remaining pages. “I’d never consider a place without knowing its history. Who are the owners and why are they selling?”
She linked arms with him. “Well, the FBI hasn’t been able to prove anything yet, but…” Her voice drifted off as they stepped farther into the garden.
While Ricky negotiated with Sally about his next supply of quilts and Mack schmoozed with Mayor Jane and her wife, David took a loop through the rooms. The forty-year-old linens looked crisp and clean. The plates, cutlery, and glasses sparkled.
“It looks like a real restaurant,” Chet observed, standing in the doorway.
David smiled. “It does. I hope the food looks as good.”
Chet pulled David in for a kiss. “It will. Now, Tabitha wants to know if we have any more of those baby red potatoes stuffed with blue cheese.”
David smacked his lips. “Tastes like you’ve had a few yourself.”
“Perk of the job.”
Once he replenished the potatoes, David snuck out to check how Virginia was faring with the smoker. “How’s it going?”
“Fine.” She looked around uneasily.
David’s stomach flipped, and he assumed she was hiding something. “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t shake the feeling I’m being watched. The neighbors aren’t going to bust us for cooking without a permit, are they?”
David exhaled, relieved the problem wasn’t with the food. “No way. We’re on private property and the sheriff is our waiter.”
She relaxed her shoulders. “I guess I’ve been living on the ranch too long. Makes me paranoid.”
After a final check, Trisha stood at the front of the garden, and addressed the guests. “I’m so glad you could all join us. Now, if you’ll come into the house, the Welcome Inn’s inaugural dinner is served.”
She directed each of the guests to their dining room. Large bowls of salad and baskets of fresh bread greeted them.
After warming the serving trays, David sampled the fish. “This might just turn out okay.”
As Chet and Trisha served the entrees, David followed behind, describing each dish, first for the humans and again for the shifters. Once done, he headed to the kitchen for a sit-down. “I can’t believe I’m so tired. I used to do this all night.”
