Chapter 1
CHAPTER
ONE
GLENN
Three months later
“Hey, Glenn. Do you know if we’re getting a new superintendent on this project?
Thought I heard we were,” Fisher says, adjusting his hard hat and glancing at the empty trailer sitting across from the houses we are currently building.
“You know, because Declan isn’t here anymore.
I mean, he was shit at his job, so I’m not surprised he’s gone, but yeah, you know anything? ”
My mind shifts to two months ago, Declan meeting with someone on the edge of the worksite. His body hunched down as he spoke to someone in a sleek silver car. He caught me staring, his hands slipping an envelope into his back pocket before moving toward me and shouting at me to get back to work.
I thought little of it at the time, just thought he was meeting up with a friend, but now that I think about it, that’s when things really went downhill. The project was already riddled with compliance issues and controversy, setbacks popping up far too often.
But maybe that had something to do with the claims we are building on sacred land. Since the project began, a small group of protestors has been showing up now and again, chanting something in a different language, signs above their heads.
Not sure why they’re here when the land’s been purchased legitimately, but then again, maybe it really is sacred. Either way, we’re building on it.
As fucking sad as that is.
“Think we have a new one coming soon,” I say, not allowing myself to go down a conspiratorial hole, thinking about Declan and a payout he may have gotten. “Jericho was supposed to call, but I haven’t gotten a message yet.”
“Hm, I mean, fuck him for not telling the site supervisor what’s going on, you know what I mean?” Fisher frowns and then scrubs at his face, his unruly beard abrading his palm. “Anyway, guess we better get back to work.”
“Yep,” I say, and then grab the nail gun, moving to the joists that need to be secured in the homes we’re constructing.
It’s a thirty-home project that’s part of a large residential neighborhood, and it’s run by the Timberwood company.
They’re a reputable organization that, at one point in time, pushed the bounds of what was seen as ethical a little too often.
But in the past few years, they’ve rebranded and have been trying to walk the straight and narrow.
The protestors have thrown things off a little, but I appreciate the effort Timberwood has put in to mitigate it.
Because if they continued to operate the way they had been, I’d have to find someone else to work for.
I’ve been in construction since I turned eighteen. I love the physicality of putting something together, love that I’m part of making something new.
And to be honest, the job is easy for me, so my work ethic and personal skills led me to become a site supervisor in my early twenties.
Hopefully, the new superintendent they bring on doesn’t step on my toes and appreciates what I can bring to the table.
Don’t need someone coming in from upper management and messing shit up. My men respect me, and we have a flow.
We’re making good progress, even with a previous shitty superintendent and all the setbacks that, looking back, seem a little too well-planned.
I have a feeling this is why Declan was fired, or why he finally left, but pulling in a new superintendent at this stage is always a little frustrating.
But I’ll get through it. We’ll find a way to work together and get shit done on time.
I focus once more on the joists, the sun beating down and making me sweat. I can’t wait for late fall when things cool down. It makes everything easier. Doesn’t help that we have the occasional thunderstorm these days, and they can throw off an entire day of work.
As lunch approaches, two cars pull into the dirt lot near the trailer.
One is a large SUV, belonging to Jericho, the man in upper management.
The other is a fancy sedan, one I don’t recognize.
It looks well taken care of. Expensive, freshly waxed.
It certainly won’t look like that at the end of the day.
Jericho exits the SUV, and a man I don’t know steps out of the expensive car.
Both are wearing suits, their leather shoes not meant for this place.
And that haircut the new man is sporting is way too fucking expensive for this kind of environment. Short on the sides, long on top. Blond and perfectly coiffed.
My eyes narrow as I watch them speak to one another, Jericho pointing at different things around the site, the other man nodding and looking around.
He’s wearing sunglasses, so I can’t quite make out what he’s looking at, but I know by the crane of his slim neck that he’s assessing the build of the houses being constructed.
Probably trying to remember everything before he hits the ground running on this project.
They get closer, approaching at a leisurely pace, and I realize some men working under me have stopped to watch their approach. I shout at them to get back to work, and my raised voice catches the attention of Jericho and the other man.
Jericho lifts a hand in a wave, but the man from the fancy sports car just cocks his head as they make their way toward me. He’s sizing me up, I think. Trying to decide if I’m going to be easy to work with.
Well, as long as he stays out of my way and treats my men with respect, we’ll work just fine. Even better if he actually knows what he’s doing.
“Glenn! Good to see you,” Jericho says jovially as he stops in front of me.
He’s at least twenty years older than me, and I like the guy.
Since working for Timberwood, I’ve come to appreciate his no-nonsense approach to work.
The other guy, though, I’m not sure about him.
He looks a little young, delicate almost.
And pretty.
My nose twitches, and something sweet hits my senses. Something familiar.
“Damn, you smell that?” Fisher whispers to someone behind me. “Fucking weird.”
I ignore him and keep my gaze on Jericho. But Fisher is right. The scent hitting my nostrils is different, and part of me is screaming that I know it, that the base is something I’ve smelled before, but I can’t put my finger on it.
It niggles at the back of my mind, and I shift on my feet. What is that from?
Fuck, I hate this.
“Glenn, I want to introduce you to the new superintendent on this project. Straight from Fuirfield. This is Arbor Wren.”
I stare down at the man beside Jericho and reluctantly hold out my hand. “Nice to meet you, Arthur.”
The man bristles, his lips turning down slightly. “Arbor. Not Arthur.”
My lips twitch. “Ah, right. Arbor. My apologies.”
He hesitates a moment and then adds, “You can call me Mr. Wren.”
My tongue presses against the inside of my cheek. “Got it.”
Jericho sighs as Arbor shakes my hand, and I feel the soft skin hit my calluses. How the fuck do I know this guy? I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I’m sure it will come to me after I’ve left work for the day. Always happens that way.
“Well, Arbor, this is the site supervisor, Glenn Barrett.”
“Mr. Barrett. Nice to meet you.”
His hand slips from mine, and he pushes his sunglasses up into his hair, and all the breath leaves my body.
What the fuck?
Two different eyes—one blue, one gray. Just like my omega from the woods.
He glowers at me as I continue to stare, unable to really process any of this. How did I not smell him right away? How did I not notice this was him? Perhaps it’s repression, trying to keep the thought of my missing omega from my mind, the scent of him, the feeling of how well he took me.
He stiffens at the way I’m gaping. “Yes, I know my eyes are two different colors. Can you stop looking at me like that?”
I clear my throat and try to glance away, but I can’t. Not really. “Right. Sorry.”
“Seriously? Look away,” he hisses. “Is it because I’m an omega on a construction site?”
His voice is laced with frustration, and I’m left to just blink at him in disbelief.
I didn’t even consider his being an omega.
My youngest brother, Skye, is one, and he’s always struggled with others not taking him seriously.
I have nothing against an omega in a position of power over me. That’s not why I’m looking.
No, I’m looking because I’ve had him—intimately, messily—more than once.
My first man. The one from the woods, the one I chased and fucked right into the mud.
The one I went feral over for the first time in my life.
“Gods,” he huffs and then turns to Jericho, that familiar scent turning from a sweet pear to a bitter cinnamon. “Are you sure this is where you want me working for the next several months?”
“Yes,” Jericho replies.
“Fine, I’ll meet you inside,” he says and then stalks off toward the trailer. Jericho mouths an apology toward me as he follows, shrugging when I just arch an eyebrow at him.
As I watch them both walk away, I can’t help but let my eyes slip down to Arbor’s ass. The same one that hightailed it out of The Den while I was sleeping.
Resentment boils up inside me for a moment, but I tamp it down.
I can’t go there because that’s a dangerous path, especially as an alpha.
Arbor had every right to leave when he wanted.
I’m just pissed that he decided he didn’t want me, that for a moment in time, I wasn’t good enough.
The wolf inside me didn’t like the rejection at all.
But I’m more human than that, so I can let it go.
I can fucking let it go.
I pick up the nail gun and move back toward my men.
One of them shouts something to me, and I just flip him off as I get back to work.
I hear the whispers about the new omega superintendent.
The way he smells. How it’s different from a normal omega.
They’re not sure what he is. Omega for sure, but something else too.
Something that none of us has ever encountered.