Chapter 16 - Craig
Morning light spilled through the window over the bed, bathing Randy in a golden hue.
I was sore everywhere, but in the best possible way. We’d made love long into the night, him seemingly insatiable once we’d gotten started. We’d stopped long enough for dinner, and for him to bring in Russy. Then we’d returned to his bedroom.
It had been amazing, but I wasn’t delusional enough to think that a single night would rid Randy of whatever fears had kept him single for so long.
And it might have done more harm than good. He’d likely wake up feeling raw and exposed—like a tree with no bark. Which meant that I had to make sure that I wrapped him in an emotional safety blanket.
He was still nestled in my arms, but something inside told me that he’d want a few minutes to compose himself when he awoke. Nobody felt like themselves when they woke up with a hangover, and one like this had to be even worse.
He was so beautiful—so perfect. I already wished that my mark decorated his neck.
My eyes fell on a freckle on the back of his left shoulder. He probably didn’t know it was there, but now I did. I kissed it softly, then carefully extricated myself from where I’d held him.
I was as quiet as possible as I pulled on my briefs and jeans, then I silently left the bedroom.
Russy lifted his head from his bed near the woodstove as I stood at the top of the stairs.
“Shh,” I said to the dog, hoping he’d understand that his owner was still asleep.
He cocked his head to one side, but didn’t bark.
I breathed a sigh of relief as I went downstairs.
I hadn’t had a good chance to study Randy’s cabin the night before—too focused on making sure my omega… my future omega… got what he needed—but I took the opportunity as I made my way to his kitchen.
It was quaint, probably out of a catalog in the seventies. It was on the larger end of A-frames, with the primary bedroom taking up most of the loft, and two bedrooms downstairs.
Despite its age, it had been well-maintained.
And Randy’s touches were everywhere. A turned bowl sat on the coffee table; a bookshelf made of live-edge slabs and branches was against the wall between the bedroom doors. A plaid blue blanket on the couch—covered in fur—signified Russy’s place on the furniture.
I looked around as I reached the kitchen. A basic coffeemaker sat on the counter, and I decided to start with that.
I lucked out and found the filters and a can of ground coffee in the cabinet above the machine. I filled the pot up and started it brewing.
I spied a basket of eggs in the corner, far from the heat of the stove.
I nodded to myself and walked over to inspect the contents of Randy’s fridge. Inside, I found half a package of bacon and a small tube of biscuits.
It would do, so I turned on the oven to preheat.
Randy’s kitchen was well-organized, and it only took me a few minutes to find everything I needed.
I could cook the bacon and biscuits, then use the leftover heat from the oven to keep them warm until Randy awoke. After that, it would only take a few minutes to fry some eggs.
Russy padded over as soon as the kitchen started to smell like bacon and sat near the stove, waiting for a piece.
“Sorry, Spud,” I said. “I don’t know if you’re allowed to have any.”
He cocked his head again, trying to understand what I was saying.
“No bacon unless your papa says it’s ok.”
If nothing else, he seemed to understand the word ‘no.’ He padded back and laid down where the end of the counter symbolized the transition to the living room.
“Good boy,” I praised, then resumed frying the bacon.
I was pulling the last piece from the pan when Russy let out an excited bark. I turned to shush him, only to see Randy standing at the end of the counter.
My sweet omega was already trying to wall himself off again, with one arm across his chest, the hand holding the opposite elbow.
I set the plate of bacon down and turned off the stove, then I strode to him.
“Good morning,” I murmured. I set my hands on his upper arms and allowed them to drift down until he relaxed slightly. But I didn’t dare push my luck and attempt to kiss him without permission.
“You…” he whispered, voice shaking. “You’re still here.”
The pain behind those words cut me to my core. He’d expected me to disappear in the middle of the night.
“I’m not the man alphas keep around.” His words from the day before hit me a second time.
“Of course, I’m still here,” I murmured, lightly squeezing his arms where I still held him. “Where else would I be?”
“You… didn’t have to.” He glanced toward the floor.
I sighed, slid one arm up, and tucked a finger under his chin, feeling the softness of his beard against my hand. I lifted so he was looking at me. “I stayed because I wanted to.”
He blinked several times, though the motion did nothing to hide the wetness gathering along his lashes.
“May I kiss you?”
He nodded, and I slid my hand back to cup his jaw as I leaned in for a kiss. It was tender and sweet, the opposite of the frenzied desperation our kisses had been the day before.
“Beautiful Randy,” I murmured, tipping my forehead against his as the kiss ended.
He shivered under my touch.
I shifted and kissed his forehead. “Breakfast is almost done. I just need to know how you like your eggs.”
“Over easy,” he whispered.
“Ok. Do you want me to get your coffee, or…?”
“I’ll make it,” he replied. “A-and yours.”
I smiled. “Plain black for me, please.”
“Ok.”
I released him and started toward the eggs.
“Other basket, please,” he said.
I turned and blinked at him.
“Those are sorted to go out to the stand. The ones in the other basket are the ones I’m keeping.” He paused. “Make sure to wash them.”
I blinked and spotted a second basket of eggs on the far side of the counter. “Ok. How many?”
“Two.”
I nodded. It was as I passed the bacon that I remembered Russy’s polite begging. “Russy was hoping for some bacon earlier, but I didn’t know if he was allowed any.”
Randy shook his head. “It’s not good for them. But I’ve got some of those bacon-shaped treats. I’ll give him one of those before we sit down.”
“Ok.”
I turned on the burner so the grease could get hot again, then grabbed four eggs from the basket. I washed them off, and by the time I returned to the pan, it was ready.
A sense of domesticity washed over me as the eggs sizzled. I remembered my dad cooking eggs and bacon for the family on weekends. He’d made sure me and my brothers knew how to make a good breakfast—and cook in general—so we could always help our mates.
I plated the eggs a few minutes later, split the bacon between us, and put a couple biscuits on each plate. I carried everything to the table and saw that Randy had put out silverware and butter.
“Thank you,” he said softly.
His eyes were downcast, and that wouldn’t do.
“Randy?”
He glanced up. “Hmm?”
I swallowed. “About yesterday…” I started.
His eyes fell again.
I sighed. “I don’t want it to be a one-time thing.”
“I…” he paused. “I’m not a casual guy.”
I reached across the table and rested a hand on his. “I don’t want to be casual with you.”
He looked up and blinked at me. “What?”
I squeezed his hand. “Randy, I don’t know what happened in your past. You’ve said things that tell me you’ve been hurt, though. And the guys at the mill have told me that you’ve been single for a long time.”
I paused and took a deep breath. “I’ve been attracted to you since I met you. I don’t want yesterday to be a one-time thing, or even something casual. Randy…” Another breath. “If you’ll let me, I’d like to court you.”
“Court me?” he whispered.
I nodded. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but…” I licked my lips. “You’ve been timid and unsure already this morning, and… I wanted to tell you where I stand before you had a chance to convince yourself that you're the man alphas don’t want again.”
He gaped at me. “I… I…”
I smiled at him and slid my hand so that my fingers were against his palm, and I ran my thumb back and forth over the backs of his fingers.
His eyes fell to the table. “I’m scared,” he whispered.
My thumb stopped, and I squeezed his hand. “It’s ok to be scared.” I chuckled. “Hell, I’m scared right now. What if the most amazing man I’ve ever met tells me he doesn’t want me to court him?”
He let out a wet laugh.
“I can’t promise that everything will be perfect,” I murmured. “But I’m hoping you’ll give me a chance.”
He was silent for several agonizing minutes before finally nodding. “Ok.”
I smiled. “You’ll let me court you?”
He nodded again, then looked up and met my gaze. “Yes.”
My smile widened. “I kind of want to shout from the rooftops how excited I am,” I chuckled. “But I don’t think you’d appreciate that.”
His cheeks darkened with an adorable shade of pink. “I… um…”
“Don’t worry. I understand that you’re a private man. I won’t put any announcements in the paper.”
“That’s where the fewest people would see it,” he replied with a shy smirk.
I burst into laughter. “There you are.”
He tilted his head to one side. “Hmm?”
“You’ve got a bit of a sassy streak. I like it.”
His blush deepened.
“We should eat before it gets cold,” I said.
He nodded, and we dug in.
“Give me your plate,” Randy said when we finished. “I’ll wash them.”
“Absolutely not,” I protested. “I don’t want dirty water getting into that wound.”
He blinked.
“Actually,” I continued. “We should probably dress it again. Is it hurting at all?”
He shook his head. “It’s fine.”
“Good.” I nodded. “But I still want to put a fresh bandage on it.”
“Ok.” He paused and studied me. “I’ve smelled that before.”
“Hmm?”
A soft smile spread across his face. “It’s your protective scent. I smelled it yesterday.” He paused. “And I think before that.”
I chuckled and rubbed the back of my neck. “Probably the day we met.”
“Huh?”
My cheeks heated. “You were digging in the scrap bin, and several fell back in. I wasn’t facing you, and the sound… well… for some reason, my alpha side thought you may have been hurt.”
“From the scraps?”
I nodded.