Chapter Seventeen
Mal
Settling In
It’s not hard to put together that the shifter I scented in Brooksville is Todd. The name on the side of his truck, for starters, but the scent is him.
The work isn’t clean, and it’s not easy, but it’s far from the dirtiest, hardest, or grossest work I’ve ever done.
Unlike my Alpha brothers, I’ve never shied from grueling physical labor. One of the reasons I became a plumber is it pays well and is a useful trade anywhere I go. Everyone needs plumbers, unless they live in a primitive dry cabin.
It also meant I could support myself.
I suppose I always suspected Dad would do everything in his power to keep under his thumb, unable to be an “embarrassment” to him. Carefully cultivate his image and control mine.
Meaning a son who, to the outside world, looks no different than anyone else.
Which I really don’t get. My leaving means we both get what we want, right? Me gone and out of sight, and him no longer able to be “embarrassed” by me.
I like working with cattle. The guys I’m shadowing aren’t dicks, and by lunchtime, I’m famished but also learning the routine.
Todd shows up with lunch for the crew, subs and cold bottles of water, and we sit at picnic tables under the shade of a nearby oak to eat. He’s…
Well, Todd’s a hottie. Impressive mountain of a man, has to be at least 6’9” and around 300 pounds of what looks like solid muscle.
Broad-shoulders, the sleeves of his work shirt rolled up almost to his elbows highlight strong, work-hardened arms and thick fingers it’d be too easy to picture sliding inside me.
Barrel-chested, tapering to a narrow waist and massive thighs that look like they’re testing the tensile strength of his faded jeans.
Reddish brown hair, deep brown eyes I could lose myself in trying to spot all the different colored flecks, and lips I can easily imagine slanting over mine and—
Yum.
I’m glad I’m sitting down because I’m hard. I’m also struggling not to look to see if he’s printing against those jeans. I damn sure hope he’ll put me on the menu for my initiation.
“How you doing so far?” he asks.
I nod while I’m chowing down on my sandwich. “Love it!”
He snorts. “Really?”
“Compared to things I’ve done in the past? Absolutely.”
“No complaints, boss,” Terry says. According to Todd, Terry is one of his best guys, the barn manager, and he’s worked for him for over fifteen years. “He’s a hard worker. Doing a great job so far.”
“Fantastic,” Todd says. The way he looks at me, with more than a hint of hunger, threatens to make my cock explode. “Jax texted and said it’ll be a couple of days before Shawn starts introducing you around.”
A tendril of fear rolls through me. “Because of me?”
“Nope. Well, yes, but nothing bad. He said they want to give you time to settle in.”
I try to relax. “Oh. Okay.”
“We’ll go shopping after work. I need groceries, and we can get you work clothes.”
“Sounds good.” I really like Todd, but I’m not so wrapped up in my head that I ignore it’s due in part to him providing me with a job and a safe place to hide.
I don’t want to let my infatuation take over and get me into trouble with the pack.
My immediate priorities are working, learning the ropes, and keeping my head down.
That last part I’m usually damned good at.
I’m determined to do everything within my power to put forth a good impression so I don’t jeopardize my chances.
By the end of the day, I’m exhausted, but Todd appears happy with my efforts. He pays me cash before we load in the ATV and return to the house.
“If you’re around for the long term, Jax and Shawn will get you a new legal identity, if necessary, so we can put you on the books. In this situation, I’m happy to pay you in cash.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
“No problem. Grab a shower and come on over and help me cook dinner. Then we’ll run into town.”
Twenty minutes later, I’m in his kitchen, putting together the salad while he cooks steaks on the stove on a cast-iron griddle.
“I’ve never known an elk shifter before,” I say. “I guess I didn’t think you’d be a carnivore.”
He laughs. “Well, you’re a wolf eating a salad, right?”
“That’s true.” It feels good to easily laugh with someone instead of being laughed at and stoically enduring it, or being heaped with verbal abuse for being “too soft,” or being told to act like an adult.
The only fun allowed was Randolph Sterling’s idea of it, and it always came at someone else’s expense.
Usually mine.
An hour later, we’re heading into town, and I finally get to look around at my adopted home. It’s a small, rural town, but there’s a large department store selling clothes, groceries, and other items all in one place. Todd heads for the food section after pointing me in the direction of clothes.
When I catch up with him again I’ve picked up several pairs of jeans, more pairs of work trousers, overalls, work boots, sneakers, socks, shirts, sturdy rain gear, and other assorted items that fill my cart.
I hate forking over the cash but I need them.
And I grab food I can stash in my apartment.
If I need to cook, Todd told me I’m welcome to use his kitchen as long as I clean up after myself, which I’m obviously fine with.
As we drive home—and it feels weirdly good to think about it as home already—I realize that unusual feeling at the base of my skull is…
Safety.
Peace.
The opposite of the nasty tingle I feel whenever I’m worried my dad’s on my tail.
And damn, could I get used to that.
Not to mention Todd’s easy on the eyes. I get the feeling he’s happy to participate in my initiation if I make it that far in the process.
In fact, once we say goodnight and I’m in my apartment, I strip and promptly jerk off thinking about what it’d feel like riding my new boss-slash-landlord’s cock.
And maybe if, once I’m initiated, I could talk him into letting me do it on a regular basis.