3. Conrad
3
CONRAD
" T here he is," I greeted my work partner for the day with a big grin.
My stomach flipped when he cast his gaze down and smiled shyly back at me from beneath lowered lashes.
Timothy ‘Timmy’ Bowman was the cutest creature on the farm, and I'd seen the ducklings down by the pond, too. I enjoyed flirting with him, even though his dad would come at me with a shotgun if I considered doing more with the petite little omega. The looks Sam Bowman had given me ever since my alpha side was revealed told me all I needed to know. I was to keep my big bear paws off his sweet son.
I respected that. I was thirty where Timmy was only twenty-two. I was also much bigger and brawnier and nowhere near as smart as the lithe little fox. He deserved better than a brute like me.
Still, I knew he had a crush on me, and flirting with him was its own reward. I wasn't planning on acting on it.
I just liked seeing him smile.
"Ready for pear picking?" I bounced on my heels.
It was September.
The high heat of summer was starting to fade, but it was still hot out.
Working in the little copse of pear trees wouldlend us some shade for the day.
Tim yawned, covering his mouth with the back of his hand as he nodded.
"Yeah," he sounded less than enthused.
"Better than pulling potatoes from the ground. I don't think my back could handle that right now."
I took a moment to really observe him and, yeah, he looked exhausted. With dark circles under his eyes, he was kind of pale, and his face seemed a bit puffier than usual.
"Are you comingdown with something?" I wanted to reach out and feel his forehead. I refrained, though, not wanting to overstep.
"Nah," he shook his head quickly, locks of auburn hair falling into his blue eyes. He brushed it back, confessing, "I'm not sleeping very well lately, and my back's starting to ache..." He rubbed at the base of his spine. "Maybe it's time I get a new bed. I've been in that one since I was a kid." Blushing, he glanced away. "Wow, could I sound any lamer?"
"Hey now," I picked up the stacked tubs for our day's work and peered inside to make sure our gloves and shears were inside, along with a few large bottles of water and a small cooler containing our lunches. "There ain't nothing lame about havinga roof over your head and a family that loves you."
I should know. Until I heard of Shifters Sanctuary, I hadn't really had either.
I grew up with my grandparents and to say we hadn't been close was an understatement. They’d resented me, probably because my mom had dumped me on them and run away, ruining their golden years. Grandma died when I was thirteen, and Pops made it to five days shy of my seventeenth birthday. Not wanting to go into foster care, I packed my stuff and skipped town.
Over the years, I picked up odd jobs here and there. I'd been of the 'fake it until you make it' mindset, and I grew myself a little nest egg of savings, but I'd never found a place where I'd wanted to settle down. I'd never felt like I fit in.
Then, one night, when I was working security at a random dive bar, I overheard a conversation between two guys. They were talking about a town for shifters, using words like 'alpha' and 'omega' and 'dragons'. It spiked my interest.
I might not have been the sharpest tool in the box, but even I’d heard the news about the dragon that had taken down a building in New York a couple of years earlier.
While the guys seated nearby talked, I learned all about the people who were unknowingly shifters. Apparently, they discovered latent alpha sides when they came into contact with their fated mates, and suddenly they could access the ability to shift and stuff. Additionally, the guys talked about how nice the town itself sounded: that it was inclusive, focused on equality and protecting the rights of omegas —whatever the fuck they were— where it seemed like a lot of shifter kind were against that kind of thing. Or, at least, that was what I took from the conversation I was eavesdropping on.
At the time, a lot of the content had gone over my head, but I'd gotten the gist of it all. The information was enough to pique my curiosity and send me off on my next adventure.
That adventure landed me in the middle of Shifters Sanctuary, where the Alpha, Beckett Smith, had welcomed me without question, even though I was human. My dubious backstory and not knowing a thing about my father probably helped, but he arranged for me to work on the farms and offered me a bed in the large, shared house we all lovingly called Frat House.
In this town, I made connections and friendships which felt more like family than anything I'd felt before.
Then, in June, even if I hadn’t unlocked the abilities naturally, I was vindicated to discover I was an alpha after all
A big grizzly bear.
A big grizzly bear who, ever since he had been revealed, insisted Tim was our mate. My mate? I still wasn't used to thinking of the beast inside me as a part of myself, even though I’d finally felt complete the first time I shifted.
Still, I wasn't sure why my alpha was so interested in Tim. I mean, sure, we had flirted prior to that fateful party but, after my alpha was revealed, I'd felt increasingly possessive and protective. It was irrational, especially when we hadn’t so much as shaken hands.
But there I go rambling...
Tim was blushing again and looking at his feet, scuffing a worn boot along the gravel. "I know there's nothing wrong with living at home," he replied, reminding me of our conversation, "but I'm an adult. Shouldn't I, like, be independent by now?"
"Just because you're living with your parents doesn't mean you're not independent," I hefted our work tubs into a more comfortable hold and started walking towards the orchard. "There's no sense in moving out if you don't have to."
"Easy for you to say. You've traveled and been on your own since you were, what, eighteen?" He sighed, looking forward as he walked, adding, "I just don't want yo— people to see me as a kid."
"Nobody sees you that way," I hid a smile at his slip. I didn't know if his omega had the same intense interest in me as my alpha did in him, but I liked these little reminders of his crush on me all the same. "You're all man to me, sweetheart."
Immediately, I wanted to facepalm.
There was flirting, and then there was whatever the fuck that was.
Clearing my throat, I picked up the pace to the orchard, making Tim trot a little to keep up with me.
"Sorry," I apologized gruffly into the awkward silence which had descended, slowing down as the pear trees came into sight. There were only ten of them, but each was laden with ripe fruit, and it would take a couple of days to pick it all on our own. "I didn't mean to cross a line."
His skin was flushed when I turned to look at him, but he also looked a little woozy. I opened my mouth to ask if he felt okay when he blurted, "I liked it."
"Liked what?"
"What you said." He bent slightly at the waist and braced his hands on his slender thighs, taking deep, measured breaths before letting them out slowly. "Gods, I’m out of shape.”
"I dunno," I risked a step closer, shifting the large tubs to my hip so I could reach out a hand to steady him. "You looked wiped to start with this morning. You sure you're not comin' down with something?"
"More like getting over something," he muttered before confessing, "I was sick a few weeks back. Didn't want to worry Mom and Dad, especially when we were so busy over summer, so I pushed through. I guess this is just my body's way of telling me I'm not fully recovered yet."
Inside me, my alpha demanded I sweep him off his feet and take care of him.
I didn’t think such an action would be appreciated, so I pushed the urge away and said, "We'll take it easy today, then, alright? I'll do all the heavy lifting and stuff. You go for the low-hanging fruit and?—”
His guffaws cut me off. "Low-hanging fruit," he repeated as he caught his breath from laughing. "If I was Martin, I'd make some kind of inappropriate joke out of that. A real sleazy come-on about your low-hanging fruit."
I snorted. "That's not what that expression means, darlin'."
"I'm not calling you low-hanging fruit. That would mean I think you're easy. I don't...I'm not..." Tim stammered and turned red all over again.
"No, you were talkin' about my banana, I know." I winked, my alpha enjoying the increased innuendo very much, even while cursing myself for crossing a line again.
I didn't know why I was struggling to keep the flirting light or innocent. The more time I spent with Tim, the harder it was to respect the unspoken boundaries my employer had set regarding his son.
Tim bit his lip and looked up at me from under his lashes again, and I found it even harder to remember why ignoring Sam's disapproval was a bad idea.
"Well," he said coyly, turning around to peer over his shoulder, popping his cute butt out in my direction, "I've got a peach you might enjoy, too."
Jesus. Fucking. Christ.
Inside me, my alpha practically danced with excitement. Mate , he seemed to cheer. Mate. Claim. Mate.
Yeah, that wasn't happening. Not if I valued my job...or my life.