CHAPTER 9 JARED #3
"It's nice to finally meet you, child. I've been waiting for you."
My eyes go wide. What was that supposed to mean?
"And this is my brother-in-law, Gianni," Renato introduces the second man, the younger omega, who shyly perches on a chair at the far end of the table.
He's an extraordinarily… inconspicuous man.
His face is pale and small, with features so unremarkable they're almost impossible to remember.
Thick, farsighted glasses sit on his nose, making his eyes look enormous, and his short brown hair barely reaches his ears, sticking out in every direction as though he either hasn't brushed it yet or that's simply his style.
He seems a little overweight, though that impression might just come from the loose, drab clothes hanging off him.
He peeks at me through those bottle-bottom lenses that make his eyes look oversized, almost pug-like and slightly bulging.
I'm just opening my mouth to ask the older omega why they were waiting for me when I've never been here before, but unfortunately, more people enter the room, which makes me feel even more overwhelmed, and the words catch in my throat.
An unfamiliar beta walks in, limping quite a bit. He pushes a cart in front of him, the kind hotels use to deliver room service to guests, with the omega I met at the doorstep, Emilio, following close behind. Together they begin setting breakfast on the table.
The beta has an apron tied around his waist and looks to be around forty-five. He has a large black beard and a sizable belly, yet something about his rather attractive, regular features makes me suspect he's not just the cook, but related to the rest of them.
As he and Emilio arrange the food, Renato turns to Veyron.
"So… a detective? That's an interesting and rather uncommon profession."
"Not anymore," Veyron answers swiftly. "A while back I inherited some money and a yacht from my uncle. I started my own company that handles both digital and traditional billboards all over the city, so I left my job as a detective's assistant."
Renato nods with understanding. "I get that. There's something satisfying about being your own boss. I took over my brother's company years ago, and I've never regretted it." Renato smiles faintly. "Hopefully Mauro will carry the torch after me."
I glance at Mauro tentatively. He's sitting on my right, and from here I can admire his classic profile. Damn… why does he have to be exactly my type?
Meanwhile, the rest of the people take their seats at the table, which confirms my suspicion that the beta in the apron is part of the family. Renato seems to realize he never introduced him, because he glances my way and says,
"Meet Tony. I employ him as our cook, but he's my nephew, Emilio's son," he says, gesturing toward the omega with the gold-wire glasses.
Only now do I notice the resemblance between them. I remember what Davos told me, that Emilio was widowed very young and had been living with Renato ever since, so Tony must have grown up here too.
At this point, I still haven't quite sorted out all their family connections in my head, but I don't want to start asking questions.
Still, there's one thing that's strange. While I'm being introduced to everyone, no one actually introduces me to anyone… as if it isn't necessary. So, what’s going on?
We start eating, and although the food is incredibly rich and calorie-heavy, it's delicious. Something about it makes me wonder if I might have eaten something from this kitchen before. Maybe a hearty broth. What an interesting thought. I quickly brush it aside.
Then my attention drifts back to more interesting things, like the fact that Mauro is sitting so close to me. He even seems to have his chair pulled a little closer to mine than people would normally sit. Could it be intentional?
One of his forearms rests on the table beside me. An intricate tattoo winds across it, beautifully artistic, full of vines and botanical details. It looks like a name hidden among all the ornamentation, though it's difficult to read.
The first letter is probably a 'J'.
I can't make out the second one yet.
What I do notice, though, is how beautifully golden his skin is, as though it's permanently kissed by the sun. The veins beneath it stand out in incredibly sexy lines.
His arms are very muscular, clearly sculpted by years of training. My eyes drift down to his hands, and something about them feels strangely familiar. Their shape… it's almost as though I've felt hands like these on my body before, but that can't be possible.
I look back at his profile. Mauro has strikingly Italian features, while his nose is more of a classic Greek type, straight and elegant. And those full lips… and that perfectly sculpted jaw!
I watch him with fascination, captivated by his unbelievably thick lashes casting delicate shadows across his cheeks, the way they curve upward in a soft, natural sweep.
Mine are long too, but they're much lighter, like many blond people's, so I usually darken them with a lash tint.
Damn it, I have this overwhelming urge to brush my fingers against his forearm.
It's resting so close to mine that I can actually feel the warmth radiating from it.
I can't tell if I'm imagining it or if he's been stealing subtle glances at me too.
Every now and then, I catch his eyes drifting toward my forearms before looking away again.
Meanwhile, Renato keeps talking with Veyron, telling him about the family business.
Their company is called Santoro Timber & Constructions, and it turns out they own vast stretches of forest around here, along with several sawmills, timber purchasing centers, lumber yards, and a company specializing in handcrafted log homes.
Mauro, apparently, manages a whole collection of rental cabins for vacationers through the business.
As they talk, my gaze keeps wandering back to his tattoo.
The second letter is definitely an 'a'. I'm almost certain of it. 'Ja…'
Could the third one be an 'r' or not?
My heart gives a strange little leap.
Across the table, the elderly omega, Silvio, watches me with a faint, knowing smile. I have a feeling he's noticed me studying the tattoo, so I quickly pretend to focus on the plate piled high with warm cornetti, bruschetta, roasted vegetables, and slices of prosciutto.
It only lasts a few seconds before my eyes drift back again to that sun-kissed skin, where floral patterns weave around letters hidden so carefully within the design.
I've got the J. I've got the A. What's the third one?
So. Is it an 'r'… or an 'n'? No… I think it's an 'r'.
The upper stroke is shorter than it would be in an 'n'.
Jar…
Jarring?
Jar… what? Jarhead? Maybe he was in the military.
No, damn it, the next letter looks like an 'e'.
I swallow hard. By now I'm staring openly, and Mauro catches me completely fixated on his arm. His eyes lift to meet mine, those beautiful forest-colored eyes…
"Is it…" I blurt out.
He simply waits for me to finish.
"Is it Jared?"
A sad little smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, and then he nods.
"Is that your ex? Jared?"
He slowly shakes his head. There's something so deeply sorrowful in his expression that I decide not to ask any more questions. Who knows what kind of secret is buried behind that tattoo.
Before the silence can settle, the elderly omega, Silvio, suddenly speaks.
"When is Tommy coming to stay with us?"
What, what, what?
I blink at him, completely dumbfounded.
"Tommy. Your son."
I just keep staring. How the hell does he know my son's name? I never told any of them.
"We have an indoor pool, and right next to it there's a little kiddie pool. He'd have so much fun here. Emilio and I would be happy to look after him while you… take care of your business."
I'm still staring at him. The only explanation I can think of is that he overheard my phone call with Alex. But he wasn’t even here! I just have to ask.
"I don't understand… how do you know my son's name?"
"Oh, I know many things. That's simply how I am." The omega smiles charmingly before adding, "Don't hesitate to bring him here. We've got you."
Hm, maybe the old man has dementia and is just rambling, but no one at the table corrects him. They simply keep glancing at me, some with subtle smirks, like Renato and Emilio.
I'm getting pretty irritated because nobody's explaining a damn thing.
"I'm leaving as soon as my heat recovery is over," I say, letting a rebellious edge creep into my voice as I lift my chin.
"Nonsense!" Silvio says in the kind of tone that suggests he knows exactly what's best. "You can stay with us as long as you like."
Heat rushes into my face. Why are these people just letting this old man ramble like this?
I'm a complete stranger who basically wandered out of the woods half an hour ago and ended up on their doorstep, and he wants me to bring my two-year-old child here?
Apparently Silvio isn't the only one who thinks it’s perfectly sane, because Renato chimes in.
"Dad is right. The invitation stands, and you're welcome to bring your son too."
How completely absurd! I can't wrap my head around it.
"But we don't even know each other!" I blurt out nervously.
"Sometimes you simply know, child," Silvio states, his wrinkled face breaking into a smile. "You already belong to the forest, don't you?"
This time I just gape at him. Veyron is staring too, as oblivious as I am.
My verdict stands. These people are completely insane. It has to be the only explanation. I should get out of here, and quick. Seriously, what the hell have I walked into?
Then, all at once, another possibility crosses my mind.
You already belong to the forest, he said.
Well. Didn't I just have sex with a forest entity?
That's when I notice the old omega's eyes are exactly the same color as Renato's and Mauro's, those deep, mysterious forest shades. And… the same color as the green entity’s.