4. Adam
FOUR
Adam
Adam
A long day at work was just what I needed. My muscles burned as I carried another heavy bag of soil across the yard. I could have used the wheelbarrow, but I enjoyed doing it myself. This was a better workout than any gym could give me.
My team was just finishing up one of the new flowerbeds in Ms. Caitlyn’s yard.
She wanted a yard made for butterflies and honeybees, and we were doing our best to bring her ideas to life.
Pulling out my pocket knife, I sliced the top bag of soil open and lifted it to spread over the empty flowerbed.
This new soil was perfect for the flowers and ferns coming in tomorrow.
“Hey, boss.” I kept pouring even after seeing Lane’s shoes appear beside the flowerbed. Lane was my beta project manager, the big boss when I wasn’t around. “Another bad week, huh?”
Grunting, I finished pouring the soil and went right to the second bag. He was always prying into my business. “I just needed to work. Get my hands dirty. I don’t pay you to be nosey.”
“Frosty,” he said under his breath. “You’re always so defensive.
You know we don’t mind if you do our work for us.
We still get paid either way.” My arms ached after the third bag of soil, but I sliced the fourth open and poured through the pain.
“We’ve got that big town square job coming up next week.
You stopping by to lay the soil there, too? ”
The thought of passing out every night from exhaustion was too good to pass up. But if I seemed too eager, he would probably ask more stupid questions.
“We’ll see,” was all I said. The last thing I needed was for any of my employees to be prying into my personal life, but with a town this small, prying was practically an obligation. Everyone knew everybody’s business, from who you were sleeping with to how you took your coffee.
I kept my private life private, even if that was just an illusion. Everyone knew my bed was empty, and I took my coffee black. At least at work I could lift bags of soil, carry heavy trees, and dig out flower beds until my hands bled, and the plants never asked me how I was feeling.
The loud chirp of a police siren interrupted me grabbing a rake to smooth out the soil.
I glanced over to see my eldest son, David, pulling up in his police car.
He got out and walked across the lawn, his eyes fixed on the rake as I worked.
His leathery pheromones mixed in with the fresh soil, the scent so thin I barely noticed it.
“Hey, Pops. Lane got you hauling soil again?”
Lane was still within earshot as he put the rest of our supplies into the client’s garage. “Oh, come on, David. Like I have to ask him to do that.”
David's badge and gun jingled as he shifted his legs on the grass, his hands resting on his belt. “Did Marshall call you? I texted, but you didn’t answer.”
“Phone’s in the truck.” The fresh soil slowly leveled out.
It was perfect for planting. I just needed to give it a quick spray with the hose, and we could start plotting out the layout tomorrow.
I set the rake against the house wall and brushed my hands together to remove the excess dirt.
“Why? Something happen at the hospital?”
“No, nothing like that.” David glanced at Lane before leaning closer, his voice a low whisper so we wouldn’t be overheard. “He’s in town.”
Marshall was here? He hadn’t been back home for six years, not since he left for medical school. We said some pretty strong words to each other back then. It had been polite conversations and half-hearted check-ins between us ever since.
I found a partially soiled rag in the wheelbarrow and used it to wipe the remnants of soil off my fingers. The rag smeared the dirt around, making it worse instead of better, but I needed my hands busy. “I see.”
“There’s more.”
“It’s fine, David. I’ll find out when I see him. I’m not having important conversations with my son through another person. He can speak to me face to face.”
David rolled his eyes, his attention darting back to Lane just to make sure he wasn’t eavesdropping. He’d finished moving everything out of the driveway and was closing the bed of his truck. “You can’t still be mad at him, Dad. He wanted to be a surgeon. He can’t do that here.”
“That wasn’t it, and you know it.” Tossing the rag into the wheelbarrow, I hauled it and the empty soil bags to the garage, then reached to pull the door down. Ms. Caitlyn would keep it safe until we finished her yard. David followed me to my truck. “Is he at the house?”
“Don’t know. He’s not answering his phone either. You two are so alike.” We were. It was part of the problem. “I’ve got some paperwork, and a B&E to process. I’ll be home in half an hour. Maybe less if Dina helps out.”
Yanking the truck door open, I lifted my foot to the step bar, and my hand lingered on the door. David would be a welcome buffer when I saw my youngest son after all this time. I hoped I wouldn’t fuck it up again. “Get Dina to help. Marshall will be happier to see you than he will me.”
“Dad…” David didn’t finish that thought, he just watched me climb into the truck and slammed the door shut for me. “Be there in a bit. Don’t start fighting before I get there.”
“Funny.” I waved goodbye to Lane and nodded at David, then started the car and drove down the street.
My youngest had come home. I wasn’t expecting that.
I hoped he wasn’t here to tell us he was dying or something.
My hands tightened around the steering wheel, and I turned the corner without stopping at the stop sign.
It wouldn’t be the first time someone in our family had that kind of conversation.
Marshall might hate me, but he wouldn’t spring that on me with a surprise visit. So. He had a different reason.
We had a long overdue talk coming, he and I. Maybe he’d grown tired of our brief conversations over the years. I know I had. Either way, I needed a shower and a beer before I dealt with this.
The short drive through town included a short steering wheel wave at everyone I saw, whether I wanted to or not. Ignoring my neighbors only made them more curious about my business, and I wanted them to stay out of it.
The more minutes that ticked by, the worse I felt.
If I saw Marshall with this attitude, today would go exactly like our last fight, and I didn’t want that.
My stomach fell even further when I turned onto my street and saw his car parked outside the house.
He wasn’t just in town, he was at home. His car was impossible to miss, so everyone on the block already knew everything. Marshall had returned.
I pushed everything aside and pulled into the driveway, quickly turning the truck off before the rumbling engine gave away my arrival.
Grabbing my phone from the dash, I got out and noticed the curtains shifting in the house across the street.
Nosy neighbors, as expected. I waved to be polite and trudged over to the front porch, taking the steps two at a time.
The door was unlocked, and a waft of scents came into my nose when I walked inside. Lamb chops. Potatoes. Wine. Marshall’s scent was so dim, it was almost like a memory. That was his car, though. He was here somewhere.
Something sizzled on the stove, but I left it alone. He would yell if I disturbed his cooking. My youngest was more like me than I cared to admit. “Marshall?” I called out. No one answered. Maybe he stepped out to grab something at the gas station down the street.
Going up the stairs, I pulled my shirt up and had it over my head by the time I got to my bedroom.
Marshall’s door was cracked open, but so was David’s.
I glanced at my shirt only to see how dirty my hands were.
Maybe a bath instead of a shower. Halfway to the bathroom door, a scent stopped me dead in my tracks.
Omega pheromones.
Someone was in the house, and it wasn’t Marshall.
That scent… a mixture of rain and cedar… I could barely move with all the blood rushing to my groin. I’d never smelled an omega like that in my life. The pull was instinctual, raw, and inescapable. My cock swelled, straining against my pants until it hurt, and I unbuckled my belt to set it free.
Who was in here?
I unbuttoned my jeans with one hand, reaching out for the bathroom door with the other, my cock throbbing with my rapid heartbeat. Pheromones rushed out of me, taking on a life of their own, calling out to the omega’s scent.
Omega. You’re mine.
The door opened, and he appeared before me, his head level with my chest. Short, but hardy and strong, just like me.
His shirt was mussed up, and he held a towel in one hand, a pair of wet jeans in the other.
He dropped them on the floor when he saw me standing there, the shock on his face echoing my own.
Those eyes. So deep and brown. His plump lips were made for kissing. I hadn’t been with a male omega, or any omega, in so long, but the thought of taking him right here and now was almost too powerful to resist.
“Dad!” Marshall’s voice broke through the haze of desire. Blinking, I barely contained my growl when he sidestepped me and put his arm around my omega. “Dad, this is Casey.”
Casey. A name I would carve into my heart, my body, into my very soul.
“He’s my boyfriend.”
Fuck me.