5. Joel
Chapter five
Joel
Ignoring the eager eyes watching my back, I flick the switch and live voltage cascades through the center. Light globes and equipment hum back to life with the restored power. A quick check of my watch urges me to hurry up; Tracey gets impatient when I’m late.
“Is that all it took to fix it?” one of the teenage boys asks, popping his hands on his hips.
With a snort, I reply, “Yeah, plus four years of an apprenticeship to know where to look.”
The youth drop-in center’s coordinator comes over. “Thanks so much, Joel. What do we owe you?”
“Nothing.” I shake my head. “It’s on the house.”
Her shoulders sag with relief as she thanks me. From what I’ve heard, this place, which provides a hangout zone for teens with nowhere else to go, doesn’t exactly have much funding. I can easily afford twenty minutes of electrical work, and I was dropping by anyway.
Hudson, a skinny seventeen-year-old with patterns shaved into the sides of his hair, shoves his hands in his pockets. “Um, how did you get that apprenticeship? What kind of skills do you need?”
I rattle off a few things and notice he’s listening more closely than normal. Maybe he’s got an eye on doing a trade.
“Best thing I ever did,” I tell the group. “Now I run my own company and tell my employees what to do. Well, it’s great until they screw up.”
“Teach said screw.” Loud snickers rise behind my back.
I roll my eyes. “Ha-ha. Quit screwing around.”
They groan loudly, protesting. Honestly, I was just like them at their age, fifteen years ago, immature and laughing at everything—including things and people I should never have laughed at.
My phone vibrates and I hiss under my breath when I open the message from Tracey, asking where I am. Damn, there’s a lot more I could tell Hudson right now, but I don’t want to upset her.
“Okay, lads,” I call. “I gotta run. My fiancé’s waiting for me.”
“Ooh snap! Mr Williams has a girl waiting for him.” The boys elbow each other, but Hudson shoots me a glare.
I ruffle his hair, risking a slap on my hand. “If you want, we can talk more about apprenticeships next week? I could even bring in my circuit board kit for you to have a play with.”
He hesitates and then nods. The tech's kinda expensive if he breaks it, but these boys don’t have the advantage of a handyman father to teach them, like Jeremy and I grew up with. This weekly hour with the teens always lifts my spirits. Makes me feel like I’m doing something useful with my time.
Plus, these guys think me being an alpha is pretty cool.
“Don’t hold him up, he’s gotta run home to his lady,” one of the other kids crows.
I laugh and lock the electrical panel.
“I don’t mind being teased about my relationship,” I say, loading equipment into my bags. “But make sure you never tease girls that way.”
The boys jeer at my comment, but their bright eyes tell a different story.
“Yeah. Girls are much more loyal and emotional than you know.” I warn. “You give them a hard time or joke about their feelings, you could ruin something good. Especially with omegas.”
Hudson scoffs. “What’s the point if they can’t take a bit of joking around?”
“Nah,” another lad says. “My sisters are like that. Push them too far and it’s the end of the world.”
I hoist my bag over my shoulder and click my fingers. “See? You know what I’m talking about.”
One the younger boys sitting in the corner looks up from his book. “But how do you know who they are? Not all omegas present at our age.”
“Well, then the answer’s simple, isn’t it?” I walk toward the door, pausing only to smile at the lads. “If you don’t know which girls are omegas, what’s the right thing to do?”
“Treat them all well,” Hudson supplies, rocking his chair back on two legs.
“Exactly.” With a wave, I slip out through the door, calling, “See you all next week.”
I load my things in the van and climb in with a smile on my face. There’s no way of knowing if I’m doing any actual good, but at least I can pass on some of the handy skills my dad taught me and my brother.
Takes me back to the days we spent our afternoons in dad’s workshop, asking questions faster than he could answer. Back then, Jeremy and I were inseparable.
Now even if we speak, it’s awkward.
I pull into the driveway of my modern suburban property and sit for a few long moments, staring at the front door.
Tracey and I bought the four-bedroom house together right after I proposed last year.
It was a big deal for me, falling in love again and proposing, so I'm determined not to screw anything up.
But ever since we purchased the house, Tracey’s been . . . uptight.
We planted gardens out the front and decorated together, although she knows the most about house styling, thanks to her career as a real estate agent. Hell, we even bought a puppy to be ‘our’ dog. Things were blissful.
But then something shifted.
These days, I never quite know what I’m walking into when I go inside; sometimes she jumps my bones and other times she scolds me for anything and everything.
And I can never seem to figure out what triggers these opposite reactions.
Is it the stress of a mortgage? More likely it’s just pre-wedding jitters, although she dropped the hint to propose first by leaving wedding magazines where I’d find them.
Or, there was that one time a few months ago when I alpha’d up on her. She was so scared, I instantly realized I’d made a big mistake. I can’t remember much from the fight, except she asked if I’d been serious about the proposal, or if our relationship was a joke to me. That hurt.
No, I can’t afford to mess up, not when I love her so much. We made up from that fight right away, and she admitted she was stressed that day, so we’ve moved on.
Regardless of what’s bothering her, the longer I sit out here, the more of a scolding I’ll get.
I climb out of the van and walk past the ornamental red grasses lined along the path to the front door.
Peeling my boots off inside, I remember to stack them neatly on the shoe rack.
The white dust, gathered from crawling through ceilings all day, falls off and I brush the pile under the rack with my sock-clad foot.
“Tracey? I’m home.”
“Finally! Thank fuck!” She breezes through an arched doorway, a tight black dress hugging every curve. “You really like to keep me waiting, don’t you? We’re going out, so hurry up and shower.”
I swallow a sigh. I’ve been on the road since 5am and my feet ache. “Do I need to be wherever it is we’re going?”
She arches one groomed eyebrow, and the atmosphere grows ten degrees colder.
“Well, I don’t know, Joel. Do you need to be there?
Are we a team, or roommates? Harrison and Belinda will be there, showing off their engagement ring.
Pete, Beau, and Rowan will be there, all handsy as usual.
So, you tell me if I’m going there as a single woman, or as your fiancé? ”
“Sorry, babe,” I murmur. “I didn’t know it was important to you.”
I turn for the bathroom.
“Just me?” she demands. “I thought our friendships were important to both of us. Guess I’m the only one who cares.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
I didn’t know we were going out, or where but I swallow the words, because it’ll just start another fight. Looks like today’s going to be the far side of her pendulum swing. We’ll be lucky if the night doesn’t end with her getting angry at me.
Well, we all have problems, right? I just need to be patient, and soon enough we’ll be back to the way we were before. When she was so sweet and appreciated every single thing I did.
My phone vibrates as I set it on the vanity counter. I pick it up, but it’s Jeremy, so I leave it and get in the shower. Now's not the time for anything that might hold me up.
The steaming water irons some of the kinks out of my muscles as I lather up and wash my hair thoroughly to get the plaster dust out. We’re working on a renovation job, which is always harder than a new build.
Tracey hammers on the door. “Any day now!”
I flip the tap off and jump out, grabbing a towel off the heated rack.
A dog yips outside, a shadow brushing past the bedroom window.
“Did you take Jock for a walk?” I call.
“No, I haven’t had time,” Tracy calls back. “Am I supposed to do everything around here? Maybe you should come home earlier on Thursdays; you know it’s a hectic day for me.”
Did she find out I stopped by the youth center?
Surely not. I shake my head and dry off in a hurry.
I’ll have to try and take the dog for a walk when we get back, even if it’s dark.
Boxers are an energetic breed, and even though our yard is a decent size, it’s not fair for him to be stuck in there all day. Not that it was my idea to get a dog.
But I did insist on getting a rescue rather than the expensive pedigree dog she was eyeing. With his goofy face and undocked tail, Jock always makes me laugh.
Tracey’s laid an outfit out on the bed: tan slacks, a snakeskin belt and a pale blue shirt with embroidery patterns on it.
The ones that itch on the inside. I add a tank top, even though it’s warm out, with a summer rainstorm fading away.
Then I don the waiting ten-gallon hat, even though that’s more Jeremy’s style than mine.
Tracey says she likes them. Feels like she’s dating a cowboy, apparently.
She waits in the car, her heel tapping with annoyance. She doesn’t say anything when I get in, only angles her body away from me. Like a grumpy cat.
I brush my fingers over her bare arm. “Sorry, babe. I went as fast as I could. Thanks for picking my outfit.”
She holds herself stiffly for another second, before softening and smiling. There, that’s the beta I proposed to. When she nods, I throw the car into reverse.
“Where’s our place of adventure, my love?”
She rolls her eyes but her lips curve up. I want to kiss that pretty pout off her face. “Donny Rose.”
My stomach sinks. Yep. Had to be the most expensive place in East Dallas. Not that we’re poor, exactly, but I’ll have to pay for our friends’ meals for the sake of appearances and things are tight lately.
I’ve been trying to quietly put more money in the mortgage to ease Tracey’s stress about taking on a big loan, but it’s not a simple matter.
Ever since I took on the contract for a massive warehouse complex for next quarter and had to outlay half a million bucks to order the miles of electrical cabling.
Well, they say women are a man’s most expensive outlay. Big packs wanted Tracey, but she chose me.
“What are you grinning about?” she asks, applying her lipstick using the visor mirror.
“How beautiful you are,” I answer honestly.
“Uh huh. That’s unlikely.”
“It’s true,” I protest, tossing her my most charming style.
Tracey rolls her eyes, but she seems happy.
I pull into the parking lot for the restaurant, a jazzy kind of place that makes customers wait in the lounge before they can be seated. From the moment I switch off the engine, I need to perform. Need to become the world’s most considerate fiancé. That will keep her happy.
Of course, I want to be that kind of man for her anyway, but Tracey’s sensitive about being treated right in public. Who can blame her when ex apparently used to call her terrible things in front of her friends?
I jog around the car to open her door, using my hat to shield the bottom of her dress as she gets her long legs out.
“Thanks,” she murmurs, scanning the lot for familiar vehicles. “Just great, we’re the last to arrive.”
She shoots me a dark look like this situation is my fault and my heart sinks.