Chapter 2 Theo
THEO
Iwas the first one standing outside the Hillbilly Diner.
It wouldn’t be long before the regular crowd got here.
Christmas decorations were up all over downtown Sugar Beach.
Festive garlands decorated light poles. Wreaths with pretty red and green ribbons alternated with banners of various Christmas characters on each of the poles.
One had Santa in an old-fashioned swimsuit enjoying the beach before the big day.
Others had Santa’s reindeer with their name at the bottom, each one had tiny hints of the beach theme.
Those few decorations were the start of the season.
By the middle of December, downtown Sugar Beach would be in full festive mode as the shops added decorations of their own.
Decorating wasn’t something I had begun in my own shop yet. Thanksgiving was still a pleasant memory and my store was still a mess after surviving Black Friday. I refused to decorate anything for Christmas until December officially started.
The coffee at the diner was the best in town, and I needed the java to wake me up.
Morning was not my best time. I didn’t usually open my store this early, but I was officially on holiday hours now.
Organizing the store after the onslaught of BF shoppers was a priority before holiday shoppers showed up later in the morning.
And show up they would. I didn’t know what it was about the first of December that some residents in Sugar Beach acted like they were already running out of time.
I didn’t even start my Christmas shopping until the week before the holiday.
And then, I tried to get it all done in one day.
I hated shopping. Which was curious, considering I owned a game store.
I’m sure some shrink would have a field day with that one.
The game store I owned didn’t make a lot of money, but I managed to make a modest profit most of the time.
Black Friday and Christmas were my best time of year.
Sales from October until December twenty-fourth went a long way toward making the shop solvent.
Not that I needed the money. The shop was more of a hobby than anything else.
Still, it was nice when it stayed in the black.
I made most of my money on the game apps I’d coded.
Investments went a long way toward shoring up the rest of my portfolio.
Those investments ensured I was set for life and didn’t have to work anymore.
The shop kept me happy. It gave me a place I could talk to other like-minded people who loved video games as much as I did.
Twice a week, the shop was open for meetups.
Monday nights were strictly for Magic: The Gathering.
Thursdays were LAN party nights. I had guys coming from three counties over for my LAN party nights.
I didn’t care that I made very little money with them.
They were fun. I could afford the luxury of having them so I did.
It also gave me a chance to connect with online friends I’d made over the years.
My shop was one of the few places left where a geek like me could do what he loved and hang out with other like-minded geeks.
By the time Jace unlocked the door to the diner, there was a line of people waiting to get in and grab a quick breakfast before heading out to the stores this chilly morning.
The smell of strong coffee and fresh baked bread hit me like a warm embrace as I walked in, my senses instantly soothed by the diner’s cozy atmosphere.
I headed to my usual spot at the counter, the worn vinyl cushion creaking beneath my weight as I slid onto the stool, waving at Jace as I settled in.
The diner was one of my favorite places, and Sugar Beach wouldn’t be the same without its comforting familiarity.
The kitchen was visible through a long opening, dishes passing from the back to the servers in a well-choreographed dance.
A new guy worked at the large industrial dishwasher, the clattering of plates and the hiss of steam filling the air as he emptied the racks.
He wasn’t someone I recognized, his broad shoulders and muscular back rippling beneath a tight white t-shirt as he worked.
Jace joined him in the kitchen, stopping to say something that made the man throw his head back in laughter, giving me a better view of his face.
He was a heart-stopper, that was for sure.
The man looked a lot like Jace, with the same chiseled jawline and piercing brown eyes.
So this had to be Dalton, the beta cousin rumor claimed was living in the diner’s upstairs apartment.
The sight of him stopped my heart and made me take a sharp breath.
He was stunning, with sun-kissed skin and tousled golden hair that begged for fingers to run through it.
Something inside me pulled and tugged in a way I’d never felt before, a primal yearning that sent a shiver down my spine.
The feeling was a little disconcerting, but the warmth that filled me as the man’s eyes met mine had me deciding I loved the feeling, no matter how strange it was.
The man smiled, his full lips curving into a heart-stopping grin, and I couldn’t help but answer back with a shy smile of my own. The flutter in my heart settled down as I tore my eyes from his to look at the menu I already had memorized, my cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and desire.
“Morning, Theo, you having your usual or something new?” Janice asked, startling me from my reverie.
“What?” I blinked, my mind still foggy from the unexpected encounter.
“The way you’re looking at the menu, I thought you might want a change,” the waitress said with a knowing smile.
“Oh no, I’ll have my usual. Thank you.” My voice sounded hoarse, and I cleared my throat, willing my pulse to slow.
“Right. A stack of sourdough buttermilk pancakes with strawberry syrup coming right up.”
My mouth watered, my lips curving into a smile as I anticipated the first bite.
I had a sweet tooth I couldn’t shake, didn’t really much want to either.
The Hillbilly Diner had the best pancakes around, but there was something special about their sourdough buttermilk pancakes that kept me coming back time and again.
Jace said the starter he used had been in his family for generations and was over a hundred years old, a living piece of history that added a depth of flavor you couldn’t find anywhere else.
I couldn’t even imagine keeping a starter going that long.
I’d tried my hand at sourdough starters once or twice, fascinated by the science behind the fermentation process.
So far, none of my starter attempts had taken, the resulting loaves didn’t have the rise I expected.
While my loaves didn’t turn out right, I still enjoyed the process.
My starter was weak and I wasn’t sure why.
One of these days, I might be brave enough to ask Jace for a cup of his starter, maybe even get some advice on successful sourdough practices from the master himself.
Until then, I got my fix for the perfect sourdough bread and pancakes at the Hillbilly Diner.
It wasn’t long before a tall, fluffy stack sat in front of me with homemade strawberry syrup, topped with whipped cream.
The pancakes were light and fluffy, melting in my mouth, causing me to groan as the flavors hit my tongue.
I had them twice a week at the diner and they never got old.
I alternated pancake days with biscuits and gravy days.
Both were a carb lover’s dream.Janice filled my coffee cup, laughing as I took another large bite, a dribble of syrup escaping the corner of my mouth.
A crash in the kitchen ripped my attention away from my food, and I looked up to see Dalton staring at me with a strange expression on his face, his eyes dark and hooded.
My tongue snuck out to lick up the syrup I could feel dripping from my lip, and the beta’s gaze followed the movement, his jaw clenching as he watched me.
The noise in the diner faded into the background, the clatter of dishes and murmur of voices receding until there were only the two of us, locked in an electric moment that seemed to stretch on forever.
My dick hardened in my pants to the point I had to shift in my seat, the denim suddenly feeling restrictive.
I lost myself in the man’s eyes, pools of molten chocolate that promised untold pleasures, until he looked away, breaking the spell that had been holding us in its thrall.
The moment had been almost surreal, knocking me off-balance and leaving me reeling.
When I looked at what remained of my pancakes, I found my appetite had vanished, replaced by a strange knot of tension in my belly I’d never felt before and my cock still rock-hard, aching for release.
The whole thing left me unsettled, and I was uncertain if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
Leaving a crumpled bill on the counter next to my plate, I left the diner, the bell above the door tinkling merrily as I stepped back out into the crisp morning air.
I made my way down the street to my shop, the soles of my boots scuffing against the pavement as I walked, my breath puffing out in little clouds.
I needed a moment alone, and the quiet of my shop helped settle me in a way nothing else could.
There was comfort in the darkened space as I walked down the hall from the back door to my office, flicking lights on as I went and breathing in the familiar scent of paper and ink that permeated the air.
Rounding the desk, I plopped down into my chair, the worn leather creaking beneath my weight as I hit the button that would wake up my computer.
The shop opened in an hour, the soft hum of the machines the only sound as they booted up.
Hopefully, that would give me enough time to pull myself together.
I’d never reacted to a man like I had at the diner, my body thrumming with a need I couldn’t quite put a name to.
I was a twenty-eight-year-old omega who had never felt such a strong physical attraction to another man.
Somewhere in the back of my head had been the thought that I was broken, that my biology was defective.
Maybe I just hadn’t met the right man. Because I was definitely interested now, my skin still tingling from that heated exchange, the ghost of Dalton’s gaze searing into me like a brand.