6. Logan
6
LOGAN
“The usual, Logan?”
I nodded and made a sound that was a cross between a hum and a grunt. Char had already scribbled my order down and was gone from my table in the next second.
Efficient. Straightforward.
Char understood that small talk before ordering was a painful ritual I was happy to forgo. Tall, blonde and sharp as a tack, she was the pragmatic owner of Rosie’s Diner, Starlight Grove’s proverbial watering hole. I’d been a regular for years and our interactions had barely changed since the first week when she clocked me.
I scanned the diner, shifting my weight in the plastic chair. It was packed to the gills tonight thanks to the start of winter break. So much so that Rosie herself was helping out, the bubbly omega manning the register with her kilowatt smile. Char doted on Rosie like any good alpha did, heavy plates disappearing from the omega’s hands every time she tried to help deliver orders.
The familiar chime of the door rang out and Ivy Winter stepped in. Or rather, was blown in from the buffeting wind outside. For some reason my ass was almost out of my chair to do god knows what — shield her? Help her get her hair off her face? Punch nature itself?
I was a goddamn moron.
“Oh heya Rosie,” she greeted the other omega.
“Ivy!” Rosie blew a brown coil of hair out of her eyes. “It’s a madhouse in here,” she said apologetically.
Ivy was busy stuffing her mittens into her bag. “It’s ok, I don’t mind sitting at the…”
She trailed off when she noticed every stool at the counter was taken.
Rosie winced. “Like I said. A madhouse.”
I stared at the empty chair across from me. My alpha instincts yanked at me to the point of pain, the sensation like needles behind my eyelids.
The hell?
I jumped as a hand landed on my shoulder.
“Easy, big guy,” Char said quietly. “Do you mind if I sit Ivy at your table?”
Mind?
Did I want her to sit so she could eat instead of waiting? Absolutely.
Did I trust myself to not fuck up small talk with her? Hell no.
“If you have to,” I huffed.
Char caught Rosie’s attention and waved them both over. Sweat immediately formed on my back. I instinctively pulled my arms close to my body and managed to knock the pepper shaker over with my elbow.
“Are you sure, Logan?” Ivy asked. She stood politely to one side, one hand clasped over the other. Trapping me with her wide-eyed gaze.
I was shitty with words. I could never be a man who compared a woman’s eyes to the sky or the sea or rain or some other force of nature and have it make sense.
All I knew was that when Ivy looked at me, I didn’t feel the need to hide.
“Of course.”
I watched her sit, smiling up at Char as she recited her order. Her cable knit sweater and scarf swallowed her. I liked how bundled up it made her look. Made me imagine ways she might steal clothes and huddle blankets around her to make a?—
Jesus, what the hell is the matter with you?
The last thing I needed to be thinking about was Ivy building an omega nest.
She removed her scarf and inadvertently sent a wave of her gingerbread scent my way. It woke my cock up immediately and I hunched over even tighter, willing it to go back down.
That’s it, I’m becoming a hermit.
My body’s reaction felt downright disrespectful. She had no control over her scent. Well, apart from applying deodorant to mask it slightly like most omegas did. Despite my best efforts not to inhale, it settled deep within my pores. Reminding me of sunlit kitchens, the sweet torture watching baked goods expanding through an oven door.
Thankfully, Ivy turned our conversation towards my dad and nothing killed a boner faster.
“I never got around to asking how your dinner was. Did it go well?” she asked kindly.
“Yes.” I scratched nervously at my beard. “Glenna loved the wine, thank you. How was your last day of?—”
“I’m telling you, you old fruit loop, it’s going to happen tonight.” Marisol slapped her hand on the table.
Hank was just as worked up, gesturing with his walking cane and in danger of braining somebody with it. “The big storm’s coming but” — Hank put his hand on his hip, eyes fluttering as if he were divining wisdom from it — “not until tomorrow. My bum hip doesn’t lie, young lady,” he insisted.
“Well, neither does my bad knee!”
“You want two bad knees?” Hank said threateningly.
Marisol scoffed. “ Hilarious that you think you’d get anywhere near me.”
“Well, that’s because my hip is playing up because of the storm tomorrow!”
“ Tonight! ”
I caught Ivy’s eye and we had to look away immediately, otherwise we were both in danger of bursting into laughter. Hank and Marisol’s arguments over whose dodgy body part could best predict the weather was legendary. Every time there was a slight drop in temperature, you could bet these two would be found somewhere arguing loudly.
The only thing certain about their predictions was that they would never agree.
“What do you think, Logan?” Ivy whispered. “Storm or no storm tonight?”
I whistled low. “My money’s on Marisol’s knee. Starlight Grove’s gonna be white tomorrow.”
“Alright, I’ll bet on Hank’s rickety hip. No storm.” Her hand came up to hide her giggle.
The sound jolted my instincts like a livewire. My alpha urged me on, needing more of it, more of her, more of everything .
I glanced at the glass display where several pies sat and got a brilliant idea. “Winner owes the other a slice of pie,” I challenged her.
Ivy’s teeth caught on her pink lower lip, the blue of her eyes sparkling. “You’re on.”
This feeling was just…
If I could bottle it, I’d be a millionaire.
Char arrived and dropped two burgers in front of us. Ivy perked up, wasting no time as she grabbed a french fry.
“I’m starving .” She popped it in her mouth and hummed appreciatively. “I haven’t eaten since Kenny’s bad hot dog came back up at lunch.”
“Kenny’s hot dog did what? ” I snapped.
Who the fuck did he think he was? Health and safety was the bare minimum for a food business. I was going to have to find Kenny and cut some strategic wires in that stupid cart of his.
“Oh sorry,” Ivy said quickly, misunderstanding me. “I shouldn’t have said that right before we’re about to eat, that’s gross.” She moved on to her pickles next. “I swear Char gives me more every time,” she laughed. “I’m not mad about it but I worry one day she’ll give me a plate that’s just all pickles.”
“You like pickles?”
“They’re my favorite.”
I pushed my plate towards her. “Take mine too.”
You would’ve thought I’d offered her a vault full of coins to dive into. “Are you serious?” Ivy asked. “You don’t like them?”
It would be better if I didn’t look her in the eye when I said my next words. “Can’t stand them,” I said gruffly, munching on my own french fry.
Ivy helped herself to all of my pickles. “Lucky me,” she beamed.
I ate slower than usual, wanting our time together to stretch that little bit further. Ivy spoke excitedly about her Christmas plans, what she hoped to achieve with her students next year and books she had been reading. I always knew she was an amazing teacher and hearing her speak only cemented that further.
She asked what my winter break plans were. The question gave me pause. Apart from spending the holidays with my dad and now Glenna, what else did I do? Made sure I was available if there were any outages due to snow. Taught Hank again how to fix his heating when it iced over every year. Single-handedly continued to keep Char in business.
There wasn’t really much else I did.
God, that was depressing.
“Think you’ll make it to the rink this year?” Ivy asked me brightly.
Starlight Grove set up a temporary rink in the town square every year and I couldn’t think of anything worse. I would be as graceful as a yeti stuffed in, well, ice skates. It would give the town a year’s worth of ammunition to make comments.
No thanks.
“Definitely not,” I grunted.
“Oh.” I saw the light dim in her eyes somewhat. Why did that gut me? I’d fucked up somewhere and I didn’t know how to fix it.
It was probably for the best that I’d never felt the urge to find an omega or join a pack.
“Tell me more about your fish,” I said quickly. “Have the kids named them?”
Ivy’s smile returned and I breathed a sigh of relief.