Chapter 14 - Craig
~September~
“Hey man, you ok?” Nate asked as he sat beside me. “You’ve been pretty quiet tonight.”
I nodded. “Just nervous. I’m scheduled to visit Randy’s property this Friday.”
“That’s the woodturner you’re interested in, right?”
I smiled. “Yeah.”
“So is this like a first date? Or…”
I sighed and shook my head. “No, this is a work thing.”
“Man, I was hoping you’d have made more progress by now,” Joey cut in. “He seemed nice, and he was clearly into you too.”
I chuckled. “It’s not like I see him that often. He came in the week after the art fair, like he promised. And I haven’t seen him since.”
“You sure this guy’s into Craig?” Spencer asked Joey. “If they’re only seeing each other once every few weeks…”
Joey set a barbecued rib back onto his plate and nodded. “Oh, yeah. It was cute. He was trying to hide it, but wasn’t doing a good job of it. And the friend he had with him…” he chuckled. “Let’s just say, he gave me an intentional opening to let them talk alone.”
“Really?” Robbie asked.
Joey laughed. “It was so obvious. But Craig and his omega were so focused on each other that I don’t think either of them noticed. Meanwhile, his friend and I were enjoying the show.”
“We weren’t that bad,” I objected.
He snorted. “You were. But like I said, it was cute.”
“Bringing it back around,” Aaron said. “You said you’re visiting his property this week?”
“Yeah,” I replied with a nod. “I need to see which of his trees he wants us to process and give him an estimate.”
“So just you and him and the trees?”
I smiled. “Yes… but…” I sighed.
Aaron hummed. “You’re worried it’s faster than he’d be comfortable with.”
“Maybe,” I replied. “I think… It’ll just be us. And I… I don’t want to be too much. I don’t want to scare him away.”
“But he knows you’ll be there for work. It’s not like you’re showing up at his doorstep unannounced. Right?”
“I told him last time I saw him that I’d be the one to go out, and he acknowledged it. And the boss—or whoever scheduled him—would have told him too.”
“I think,” Spencer started, “that you’ve done everything you can to put things in his court. He knows it’s going to be you, and he knows you’re there for work. If he seems uncomfortable, just be professional.”
I sighed. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”
∞∞∞
“Turn right onto West Lake Drive, one-quarter mile,” instructed the robotic voice of my GPS. I looked for the turnoff, flicked on my blinker when I spotted it, and pulled into the turn lane.
“Destination in approximately two miles.”
Sable Lake glittered on my left, but I kept my eyes to the right-hand side of the road. Randy had said that his honesty stand was at the bottom of his driveway, and that was probably a better indicator of where to turn than slowing down to look at every number.
I spotted the stand just as the GPS told me that I was close. I turned into the driveway and drove up the slope that led to an old—but good-sized—A-frame cabin.
The forest was quiet as I stepped from my truck, but sounds started standing out as my ears adjusted. The echoes of speedboats drifted from the lake, and the clucking of chickens from nearby. It was unbelievably peaceful.
The whine of a table saw split the air, and I followed it around the side of the cabin to see a large workshop with an open garage door.
Gravel crunched under my boots as I approached.
There was another small building next to the workshop, and what appeared to be a covered stack of firewood along one side of the cabin. Stairs led to a porch and a side entrance to Randy’s home.
Off to one side—in the shade of the trees—was a chicken coop and run, and what was obviously Russy’s run and outside shelter.
Russy barked excitedly at me, tail wagging.
“Hey, Russy,” I said. “I don’t know if I’m allowed to let you out.”
The whine dropped off to the background hum of the saw running—but not cutting—and I turned back to the workshop.
My heart flipped as I finally got a chance to see my omega in his element. He’d donned a heavy leather apron and wore a face shield with a respirator; in one hand, he held a push stick.
The saw whined again as he guided a line of boards along the blade—using the push stick to keep his hands safe as he reached the end. Then, seemingly done with the task, he reached down and turned the saw off.
Quiet returned as the blade spun down, but I made sure that he was well-clear of the table before I made my presence known.
“Knock, knock,” I said.
Several seconds passed during which Randy didn’t respond, and I realized he was wearing heavy enough ear protection that he hadn't heard me.
“Knock, knock!” I shouted.
He startled, then turned while pulling off his earmuffs. He held up a finger. “Be right with you.”
“No prob.”
He made a tour of his shop, checking that everything was turned off. Then he paused by the open door to hang his apron and set his respirator on a shelf.
“Step back?” he asked as he picked up a waiting pack and slung it over his shoulders.
I blinked and took several steps back out of the building.
“Thanks,” he said as he followed, then leaned back in to hit the button to lower the door without tripping the sensor. “I hope you weren’t waiting long.”
“I just got here,” I replied as we started walking to Russy’s run. “Hope I didn’t interrupt.”
He chuckled. “I was just working on some odds and ends until you got here.” He paused by the gate. “Mind if Russy joins us?”
“Sure.”
“Time to walk the land,” Randy said to the dog as he opened the gate.
Russy barked an acknowledgement and fell in beside Randy as we headed past the workshop and up the mountainside.
“So I keep meaning to ask,” I started, “how’d you decide to name him Russy?”
Randy chuckled. “Technically, his name is Russet.”
“Russet?” I stopped walking and stared at his back until he stopped and turned. “Like the potato?”
He grinned, the expression lighting up his face. “Exactly. He looked like a potato when he was a pup, and it stuck.”
I started laughing, then doubled over with it. “Is that why all the guys at the mill call him Spud?”
“That’s the reason. Everybody there knew him in his puppy phase, since Jim was the one I got him from.”
“Jim?” I asked as I managed to recover from my laughter.
“I guess you never met him,” Randy clarified. “He retired right before you started.”
“Oh, I guess I’ve heard the name around.”
“Good man,” Randy said as he started walking again. “Worked there for a long time. It was sad to see him go, but he’s probably enjoying every moment with his mate.”
“Did you know his mate, too?”
Randy shook his head and slowed as we reached a marked tree. “I only met him a few times. But Jim always talked about him. To him, Miles might as well have hung the moon.”
He paused. “It was really sweet. Life… kids… and Jim still loved him like they were in that honeymoon phase.”
“That sounds nice. I hope to have a relationship like that when I’m ready to retire.” I paused. I knew it was bold, but I hoped Randy would be a bit more willing to open up. “What about you?”
He stiffened, and I cringed—knowing I’d pushed too far. “I…”
“Sorry,” I interrupted before things could get worse. “That was rude of me.”
There was a moment of awkward silence, then he shook his head and turned to me. “No, I…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not the man alphas keep around.”
I curled my fingernails into my palm. Something about those words made me almost irrationally angry, but I forced the feeling down. “I’m sure there’s somebody who will love you like you deserve.”
Because I’m that somebody.
He gave me a sad smile. “I wish that were true.”
I almost flinched from the impact of his words. They’d been uttered without anger, without despair, but with the soft resignation of one who’d accepted their fate.
Even if Joey was right, and Randy had been flirting with me at the art market, he didn’t expect anything to come from it. I could pull him into my arms that moment, promise him everything, and he wouldn’t believe it.
My fingers twitched with the desire to try, to show him that I was the man who would love him.
Russy barked excitedly, and I turned to see a squirrel running up a nearby tree.
Randy cleared his throat. “We… we should get to work.”
I nodded. “Ok.”
There was an odd tension between us as I measured the first tree. Randy stood off to one side—silent—with one arm crossed over his chest and holding the opposite elbow.
I’d done that. I’d made him uncomfortable, and it was on me to fix it.
I finished with the tree, then turned to him. “I’m sorry.”
He blinked. “What?”
“I’m sorry.”
He shook his head. “For what?”
I took several steps closer, and internally breathed a sigh of relief when he didn’t step back. There were still a couple of feet between us, but it was close enough. “I said things that made you uncomfortable, and that’s not what I wanted to do. So… I’m sorry.”
His posture relaxed, though he still carried more tension than I’d have liked. He shook his head. “You didn’t know.”
“That’s not a good excuse, so I won’t use it. I hurt you.”
His expression softened, and the tiniest smile tugged at his lips. “I reacted badly, and… I’m the one who was talking about mates first. So it’s my fault, too.”
“Apology accepted?” I asked.
He nodded. “Apology accepted.”
I smiled, and he returned it.
He motioned to the trees along the slope. “Shall we?”
I nodded and scanned for the next marker. “That one?” I asked when I spied a flagged tree.
He chuckled. “No. That one is going to my firewood pile.”
“Really?” I asked, studying the tree. “It looks good from here.”
He shrugged. “It’s punky. If I’d have caught it a couple years ago, I might have gotten some nice flame pieces, but it looked good from the outside. Now it’s only useful for kindling.”
“May I?”
He shrugged. “Sure.”