“That would be lovely. I didn’t know about my future grandbaby when I was at the auction and almost bid on it as a what-if.”
I remembered that auction. It was to fund the new playground, and the tax letter I got from the school indicated they earned well over my normal price for the item although I didn’t undervalue my work. That was one thing about Mapleville. They cared about their kids. Which held new meaning for me now that I had one coming.
“Good news is, by not buying it then, you will get the bargain price of what I normally charge and not the inflated auction price.” I grabbed a card out of my front pocket where they lived, fingertips brushing against the prenatal vitamins the doctor sent me home with, and handed it to her. She knew where to find me, everyone did, but Granddad had always insisted on business cards, and it was now habit.
She beamed when I gave her the good news about pricing. Not that Mrs. Fredericks needed to worry about money. Her family was one of the founding families of the city, and they had a lot invested in the area still.
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize I was keeping you from a date.” The old lady winked at me, and I turned back to see Lucas a few feet away, his scent only missing me because of the cool breeze.
“He’s not my date.” I shrugged because it was sadly true. “His date’s inside, but yeah, I know him.”
My desire to flee dissipated when he took a step closer, introducing himself to Mrs. Fredericks who, for some reason, found a simple handshake with the sexy alpha blush inducing. I wasn’t even registering their words. All I could think was that he was there—with me, even if it was for a fleeting moment.
As she headed into The Diner, I just stood there, rubbing my beard, trying to figure out the best way to handle things.
“Harrison. It’s good to see you.” His voice washed over me, and I stepped closer, needing to scent him.
“Hi, Lucas. Sorry I left and didn’t call and erased your number off my phone.” And out it all spilled. Well, not all of it. He still didn’t know about his child growing in my belly.
“I offended you that much?” He looked more hurt than playful, and it felt like a sock to the gut.
“No.” I shook my head furiously. “I-I had fun. More than fun, and I knew that was all it could be, so it was easier to try to forget. And now you have an omega, so the point is moot.”
“No. Omega.” He was more forceful than the words required. I tried not to let that give me hope that he was both available and interested. Really, it wasn’t even about that anymore. This was about the human we had created, even if their creation was unintentional. “My assistant.”
“Oh.”
“And I’m here. Now. In Mapleville.”
I could see that, but I still didn’t know what his presence meant. Mapleville wasn’t a tourist destination, although there were a few cabin rentals.
“You moved here?” I asked hopefully.
“I’m here for the foreseeable future ”
Not the answer I wanted, but it was better than a week-long getaway.
“I’m part of that show they’re doing.”
“Oh, the restaurant doohickey.” I needed to pay attention to town gossip better. Most all I’d heard about the show had already fallen out of my brain.
“Yeah. That one.” He inched forward, and I willed him to close the distance between us.
“You doing craft services?” If so, those people were lucky. That man could mash potatoes like nobody’s business.
“Not really. I cook for the show.”
I’d half thought it was a show about restaurant makeovers, but now I believed I had part of that wrong. Not that it mattered. Not at the moment. What mattered was enjoying the time with Lucas before I ruined it all with my announcement, which I had to make. He needed to know. This baby was his, too.
“Sounds good.” I kicked a stone on the ground. I so sucked at this.
“Can I hug you? Would that be okay?”
My head snapped up at his request.
“I think that would be good.” I stepped into his open arms, and he pulled me in close.
“What is that?” he asked, tapping the top of the prenatal bottle mushed between us.
“Oh. Those are prenatals. Turns out I didn’t sneak out of your apartment alone.”
Not how I planned to tell him. Not. At. All.
Chapter Nine
Lucas
He hadn’t snuck out of my apartment alone.
And he had prenatal vitamins in his pocket.
There was a glow to his skin.
.
“Harrison, look at me.” He’d barely made eye contact at all.
He took a minute, but did. I remembered those green eyes from that night we shared, but I thought maybe I’d imagined how green they actually were.
I hadn’t. They were the color of cilantro.
“Harrison, are you carrying my baby?”
He nodded and leaned forward, and I squeezed him tighter.. As I held him, I noticed we were gaining an audience. It was time to take this somewhere private.
“Is there anywhere we can go?” I whispered into his ear.
“Get in the truck,” he answered, turning away from me while pointing to the passenger door.
As I went around the back of the truck to get into the passenger side, I glanced back at the diner to see Warren giving me a thumbs-up from the window.
He was my dating coach.
“I’m gonna take you to my place. It’s not much, but…”
I reached over the bench seat and put my hand on his shoulder. I would’ve preferred to take his hand, but it was occupied with the old truck’s stick shift.
“Anyplace you are is good enough for me.”
He nodded once, speeding down the road. He turned off between two huge oak trees where I hadn’t even seen a road. The dust blew all around the truck until he skidded to a stop near an almost picture-perfect cottage. The outside was painted sky blue with white shutters. The only thing missing was the picket fence.
“This is your house.” It had to be. The brawny man with a killer beard and tattoos next to me had to live here.
It was just too ironic.
“It is. Belonged to my grandfather. Then it passed to me. And, one day…” It struck me that maybe Harrison was as used to the idea of him having a baby as I was—which was not at all.
“When did you find out?” I asked over the engine’s rumble.
“I’ve known for about a week. Went to the doctor today with Vivian.”
“Is that the woman I saw you with earlier?” I couldn’t help but stare at his belly.
“It was. She’s someone who orders projects from me. I’m building her shelves.”
“And you’re building that other woman a cradle.”
He tugged on his beard. “Yeah, one of my specialties.”
“Do you think you’ll make one for the...I mean our...the baby?”
“Probably. Do you want to get out? Have a cup of coffee? Let me explain why I ran out on you like that?”
I looked out the window and took in the scene. An abandoned garden lay in the side yard with stakes still in the rows and one that read Basil.
“Who did that?” I pointed to the garden.
“My grandpa used to grow herbs and stuff there—he enjoyed it. So, in or…”
“Yeah, I’d love to talk.”
“Stay there,” I told him gently. I crossed the front of the truck and opened the door for him. “I didn’t get to do this before.”
“Oh, thanks. Come on in.”
We walked side by side toward the small house, and I had to refrain from taking his hand in mine and tell him that I’d never stopped thinking about him.
That I’d been a mess since he left.
That I wanted this baby—with him—with us—all of it.
“Come on in. Shoes off.”
He stopped just inside the front door and kicked his shoes off, and I followed suit. The place was immaculate. Every piece of furniture, fr
om the tables, to the sideboard, to the little table beside a dated chair, was handmade and lovingly so. But there were no pictures, no personal touches, like it was about to be sold or up for rent.
Or simply that a lonely person lived here.
I followed him to the kitchen where he put a silver-colored kettle on the stove to boil.
“I can make coffee or tea. I have to drink herbal tea now. The doc told me to hold back on the caffeine. Shoot, I was supposed to stop at the library.”
“For what? Oh, and tea is fine, thank you.”
He pulled two mismatched cups from the shelf and with them a tin of loose tea.
“Pregnancy books. I mean, there’s just so much the doctor can tell me. I’ve got about six months to read up, apparently.”
He took off his jacket and hung it on a coatrack, also handcrafted, and walked back to the stove, waiting on the hot water.
“Wanna talk to me about why you left?”
Chapter Ten
Harrison
Did I want to talk about why I left? No, not really. But that didn’t mean I shouldn’t.
“Lucas.” His name flowing off my lips felt so right, even if what I had to talk about felt so wrong. “When I woke up, you were lying there sleeping, looking all disheveled and sexy. There was nothing I wanted to do more than pull you to me and snuggle until the morning.”
And more, but we were so very much not going there. I pretended to be looking for something tea related, which was ridiculous since I was pretty much one of those guys who put everything it’s its right place at all times, more to avoid confusion than anything else.
Too many things had happened all at once, every single one of them unexpected, and I wasn’t even sure how to process it all, much less while having a life-altering conversation.
“Then why didn’t you?” He offered me his arm as I stumbled, trying to grab the honey. I was usually better on my feet, but between the pregnancy and trying to not notice his scent, I had been far less graceful than normal.
It felt good to touch him, even if it was for safety reasons.
I let go once I righted myself instead of stepping into his arms the way I wanted to.
“Because then what?” I sighed. It wasn’t as if I had known about the baby then. If I had—well then, I’d have done things hella differently. “The awkward morning goodbye? It wasn’t like we could’ve been more than that one night, even if it was a pretty good night.”
Best. Night. Ever.
“I’d rate it as better than pretty good.” He leaned in as he spoke, sending shivers down my spine before taking a seat with a smirk on his face—a sexy smirk at that.
“Yeah.” My voice cracked. “That.” The kettle was starting to sound like it was close to ready, and I fiddled with it as if that would somehow make the water boil faster. I was usually more confident than this, especially in my own home, but all of that flew out the window with those two little pink lines.
“So, out I snuck. Back home to my life here, making things, being me. The me you saw, the one who got all hot and bothered by some hot guy he saw at a flea market, hot and bothered enough to get naked with him? That isn’t me. I am more boring than you can imagine.”
Lucas stared at me as if I spoke Greek. If he only knew how true my statement was. Except for Henry’s kid, I was alone more often than not. And I didn’t hate it that way. At least I didn’t think I did, until I met Lucas. Maybe it was all hormones.
“You travel a lot. I live for my roots. This is my home. Not only this cabin, but this town. This is where I belong, and I knew from that first moment, when you sounded all sexy telling me I dropped the stupid box, that we could never be more than that one night.”
The kettle whistled and I shut the burner off before filling two cups.
“Except we are.” Lucas got up, inching closer, watching me intently as if I might bolt. “We are going to be parents. Were you going to tell me?”
“Like I knew where to find you.” His face reddened. I was doing this all wrong. “I never planned to keep it from you intentionally, but I didn’t even know your last name.”
“You really have no clue who I am, do you?” He looked indignant.
“You’re Lucas?”
He pulled out his phone and typed away before handing it to me.
“Here.”
I took it to see it open to YouTube and some cooking thing.
“Why are you showing me a cooking—oh.” And that was when I saw Lucas on the screen. The sound was muted, but from what I could gather, he was making some kind of roast, and the production value looked much better than most home videos. “So, you are on what, like PBS or something?”
“Not quite.” He indicated with his hands for me to guess again.
“The Cooking Central Channel?”
“Yes and no. I’m on multiple networks for different shows.”
“This thing the town is going on about, that’s all you?” How had that not clicked into place before. Although it wasn’t as if he flaunted his acting or was it even acting—demonstrations? He never once mentioned it to me on our date.
“It is.”
“So, most people see you and know who you are.” My stomach fell.
“That’s why I was hiding in the back at the craft fair,” he confessed.
This was not good.
“And they will be like that here?”
So very much not good.
“Most likely.” He shrugged, not even looking as if he grasped the problem.
“And I’m pregnant.” My voice rose, something I tried to keep it from doing, but he just wasn’t hearing me. He was famous, and I was pregnant. That could only lead to badness.
“You are.”
“My life cannot be a TMZ headline.” There was no way I could allow that. Not for me. Not for my business. And most definitely not for my baby.
“It won’t.” His gaze didn’t even hold mine as he spoke. No. He wasn’t believing his own words on that one.
“It will, given you are famous and I’m having your love child.” I spelled it out for him, no longer holding any calm.
“Do people say that anymore?” He took a step forward, and I took two to the door.
“I did.” I held my voice firm. “I think you need to go.”
It was all too much. I just couldn’t handle it. I needed time and space.
“But we need to talk.”
“I need to figure this out.”
“Can I put my number in your phone? Will you leave it this time?”
I nodded, pulling out my phone and handing it to him. He was still my baby’s father, so no matter what other decisions were made, he deserved to be part of the baby’s life. How we made all of that work while protecting the baby was an entirely different matter.
“I will. But I need to figure things out. Especially with the entire town abuzz. You understand. Please say you understand.” I sounded desperate. Shit. I was desperate.
“I don’t, not fully, but I accept your need for space even if it doesn’t make me happy.”
“Fair enough.”
It didn’t make me happy, either.
Chapter Eleven
Lucas
I called Warren from the front steps of Harrison’s house with a bleeding heart and a nearly stagnant brain.
For most of my career, people have begged me to be in the room, at the event. They would wait hours to see me at a party or a restaurant. One woman offered to pay me five grand just to make her breakfast on her birthday.
Five grand for scrambled eggs.
And yet, here I was, sitting on the stoop of an aging house in the middle of nowhere, and the one person I actually wanted to be with didn’t want me around because of the fame I’ve built.
Can we all say irony?
“I can take you back to town.” Harrison opened the front door and spoke through the screen. “It’s no problem.”
I shrugged and purposely didn’t look at him. “It’s fine. I’m
super-famous and rich. There’s someone coming for me.” I couldn’t have contained the snide remark if I’d wanted to. This was not how it was supposed to go. Love didn’t work like this.
Love? Is that what this was?
“Don’t be like that. I was just being honest.”
“And so am I, Harrison. Let me know when you’re ready to get to know me without the judgment.”
Thank goodness Warren pulled up in the drive at the exact time I needed him to—the minute before I said something regrettable to the father of my baby. I’d had to give Warren specific directions on how to reach Harrison’s house. No GPS for him. He’d actually whined over the phone.
I got into the car and slammed the door, telling Warren to just get out of there. That meant he didn’t get to ask questions or insinuate anything.
He got to be quiet like a normal assistant.
“Pull over here.” I spotted a lake in the distance and needed some air. This car was too small for me and my wounded ego to fit into.
As soon as the car stopped, I jumped out and stalked out to where the land met the water and leaned forward, a panic attack on the brink of taking me.
“Lucas, do you need one of your…”
I held up a finger behind me for him to shut up. “Don’t even say the word. Just don’t.”
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.
Tasting His Omega Page 4
