Chapter 3
FREY
Chickie filled the doorway to my office. “You have a minute?”
“Sure.”
I gestured for him to enter, and he closed the door.
He rocked on his heels, glancing around distractedly, as he always did when he had something to say but didn’t know where to begin.
Then he grabbed his belt, adjusting it under his respectable potbelly, and cleared his throat. I waited for him to get it out.
“Ollie’s back in town,” he finally said. “I brought him home from college last night.”
I’d seen them arrive.
Oliver had been sitting in the passenger seat with the window rolled down, squinting into the evening sun.
His honey-and-copper-colored hair had fluttered in the wind, and he’d been smiling like he’d learned things I’d better not know about.
The now-familiar tingle of apprehension had run up my spine.
The awkward teen was long gone. Oliver had grown into a confident, breathtakingly beautiful man of twenty-two. We hadn’t spoken in four years, and he’d never looked at me twice during his short visits home, which was exactly what I’d wanted.
I’d done my best to make myself scarce when he’d been around to spare us both any embarrassment, or so I’d been telling myself. But of course, I’d noticed him. The last time, when he was at home for spring break and appeared at Jordy’s, I’d been blinded by him.
I didn’t have a word for the strange mix of fear and longing I felt when I thought of him. I didn’t want to know what it meant.
Chickie squinted at me, and I kept my face carefully neutral. “Phil must be over the moon to have him home.”
“We both are, but that’s the thing. He’s looking for work in Green Peaks, and I’m sure he’ll find something soon. He graduated at the top of his class and had the best internships and everything. But I know he’d be happier here, in Beauville.”
Fuck me , I knew where this was headed. “More like you’ll be happier to have him close.”
“No shit, I will! Three of my kids have moved away, but the last one could stay.” My friend put his hands on his hips and glowered at me. “But this isn’t me asking for a favor. This is me doing you a favor. Ollie’s sharp and a hard worker. You’d be lucky to have him.”
Of course, anyone would know that Oliver, with a fresh degree in economics, should replace Hughes at the town hall. But I couldn’t work with him. Seeing him every day? Spending time in the same room? What if he still smelled like…
“I hear you, and you’re right, but I can’t decide this myself. And he must send an application.” I pretended to search through some papers on my desk. Just like I knew Chickie’s every tell, he knew mine. I had to get him out of here before he noticed I was being weird.
“I spoke to Jesse and the guys on the council, and they got excited like kids at a fair. What’s with that sour face, Frey? This is my son we’re talking about. Besides, I thought you’d be glad we have young talent returning home.”
I couldn’t back out of this, could I? I had nothing against giving Oliver a job.
He was probably the most qualified for it anyway.
Hell, with his fancy college degree, he was overqualified.
But I’d been doing my best to avoid him, and now I’d have him right where I could smell him every damned day.
A flash of pale skin framed by turquoise lace flickered through my mind, and I cringed inwardly.
Calm down. It’s been years.
Oliver was an educated, grown man. With his face and confidence, he’d surely dated plenty at college. He’d long forgotten about me and would be just as eager as I was to pretend nothing had ever happened between us.
“If he applies, the job is his,” I said, my tone remarkably steady. “It would be even without you asking.”
“Thanks, man.” Chickie put his hat back on and flicked the edge. “I’m going to the diner for lunch. Meatloaf?”
I could see the greasy plate in front of me. Bert made the mashed potatoes creamy and poured the grease from the pan over them. You could also get extra gravy on the side.
“You know you want it.” My friend winked. “My treat.”
“I can pay for my lunch, Chickie. You wouldn’t want folks to think you’re bribing me to give your kid a job, huh?”
He laughed. “Not much of a bribe. C’mon.” He patted his belly. “I’m starving.”
We crossed the street to our tiny diner, and Chickie gestured at Bert from the door.
“I know, chief. Meatloaf, extra gravy. And you, Frey?”
“Same. Thanks, Bert.”
We sat in a booth by the window overlooking Main Street, so Chickie could pretend he was keeping an eye on things as he stuffed his face.
Whenever I ventured out during the day, folks would come up and talk to me.
But Chickie, in his sheriff uniform, worked as a shield.
Everyone assumed we had important town matters to discuss over lunch, and they left us in peace.
“Been a while since you’ve had dinner at our place,” my friend said. “You should come this weekend.”
“Nah. You just got your youngest back from college. I bet Phil is happy you have the house to yourselves.”
“Bullshit. You’re like family. Come whenever.” He gazed out of the window, his bushy eyebrows drawn together. “You’re on your own too much.”
Chickie had been sending me signals that Phil and he worried about me.
I was over forty and unmated. In bear shifter terms, I was a tragedy in the making.
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him I wouldn’t meet any nubile omegas having dinner with Phil and him, but I stopped myself at the last moment because Oliver…
Oliver was back now. I was one hundred percent sure it had never occurred to his father that his bright jewel of a boy would ever look at someone like me.
I shouldn’t plant the idea in Chickie’s head.
“Hey, Barclay found Calvin wandering around the forest behind his house,” I joked. “Maybe instead of going to dinners, I should be patrolling the woods.”
Chickie grunted. “Because that’s a common occurrence. Single omegas are getting lost in the mountains all the time, and when you’re in the mood to get yourself a mate, you can go pick them like mushrooms.”
I chuckled. “Would be nice, just saying.”
Bert brought us our plates, and I scooted closer to the rickety table. My mouth watered from the smell of meat and gravy.
“I have nightmares about what useless prick will come and claim our Ollie. That boy’s too pretty for his own good.” Chickie gripped the cutlery like a weapon and attacked his food with a scowl on his face.
I quickly shoved a forkful of meatloaf into my mouth to buy myself some time and rearrange my face into something average. After I swallowed, I said, “He’s still young.”
“I got Phil pregnant at twenty. Ollie’s twenty-two.
” Chickie’s knife squeaked against the plate, and I winced.
“At least he came back home. Phil would never say it out loud, but having all four of our kids move away from Beauville? He’d be brokenhearted.
Hell, I would be too. I hate that we have to drive for hours to see our grandchildren. ”
“And the guys are doing well in Green Peaks?” I hoped my friend would start talking about his three older sons and their families, but no dice.
“Sure,” he replied, and put a chunk of meatloaf into his mouth.
I didn’t know what else to say, so I ate and thought of how to change the subject without making it obvious just how much I didn’t want to talk about Oliver ever again.
Then Chickie broke the silence with, “Ollie’s different.” I almost choked on a pickle, and it took me a moment to get myself under control.
“Different how?”
“You know he can’t shift.” My friend sighed, dragging the last piece of meatloaf through the gravy on his plate. “If he were a shifter omega, he’d find a fated mate, and I wouldn’t have to lie awake at night, wondering if he’s safe. But what if there’s more to his condition, huh?”
“Didn’t Hunter tell you Oliver’s fine? He is a shifter omega, and he’s healthy. Why shouldn’t he have a fated mate one day?” What on Earth prompted me to say that? I had no business defending Oliver.
Chickie made a sour face. “I dunno. It was easier with his brothers. I couldn’t wait to kick their lazy asses out. And look at them now. Even Reggie found himself a mate and built a house with his own hands. They have a second kid on the way, have I told you?”
“Yeah. Congratulations. Reggie’s come a long way since you had to drag him out of parties and wait on the roadside while he puked his guts out. Didn’t you put him in jail overnight that one time?”
“Don’t remind me. Raising alphas is hell.
Ollie has always been the responsible one with perfect grades.
The worst rebellion we got from him when he was a teen was a few choice words about politics.
One teacher at the Green Peaks school kept calling us to complain that Ollie was mouthy.
And Phil outright told him that our boy’s got a good head on his shoulders, so why shouldn’t he have opinions, right? ”
I smiled. “I remember.”
“Phil says I’m overprotective of Ollie because he’s an omega. Which, hey, makes perfect sense to me. When I picture some rando just looking at him funny, my hand moves toward the gun by itself.”
The food got heavier in my stomach.
But I wouldn’t look at Oliver funny . He didn’t deserve that.
With any luck, he would aim higher than paper pushing at the Beauville town hall, and I wouldn’t have to look at him at all.
Oliver did aim higher. Except he wanted to do it in Beauville.
His interview was the following Thursday, which I successfully dodged under the pretense that I couldn’t be impartial due to my close relationship with his parents. He got the job on the spot.
Then, on Friday, I bumped into Jesse, the deputy mayor, in the town hall break room.