“I’ve seen people lurking in the woods at times,” Glenn says, and my eyebrows rise. “Just keep an eye out.”
“I will,” the guard says.
“All right. Well, we should get going,” Glenn says, and we watch as the security guard rolls up his window without a goodbye and drives off.
Glenn cocks his head and murmurs something under his breath.
“What?”
“Nothing. I’m sure the company vetted security companies, but he didn’t have a scent.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah, fucking weird.”
“He was a little strange,” I say, and Glenn peers over at me.
“Guess we’re all a little weird. In our own way.”
He doesn’t need to tell me that twice. I know I’m strange to most people who meet me.
“Why didn’t you tell me about the other times you saw people lurking in the woods? I thought it was just the once.”
“Just figured they were lingering protestors still pissed over the sacred land stuff, or maybe it was all a figment of my imagination. I honestly don’t know what I saw.”
I huff, and he shrugs. “Doesn’t matter. Now we have security to worry about it. Follow me?” Glenn asks, and I nod, watching his ass as he walks to his truck. I slip behind the wheel of my car and watch as he puts his truck in reverse and pulls out. I follow him, the GPS navigating on my phone in case he speeds off.
But he doesn’t. He drives slowly, putting his signal on each time he turns. Always so fucking considerate.
By the time we pull into the paved parking lot, The Tipsy Mule’s front door right in front of me, my stomach is growling loudly. I’ve been better at eating, but I still don’t do as well as I should.
I quickly shut off the engine and hop out, taking in the scenery. Well, there’s not much to be seen besides the rickety old building I’m about to go into, and then Pit Stop across the street. Looks like a bar of some sort.
Since being on the job, I’ve heard whispers of that place. My neck cranes a little further to get a better look, but then snaps forward when Glenn calls my name.
I walk quickly toward him, stepping into the Tipsy Mule’s dim interior. It’s older, with creaky floorboards, old photos on the wall, and some old country music playing on the speakers.
Apparently, the old interior isn’t indicative of their food. It has great ratings online.
Glenn leads me to a long table full of the men from the site. They offer me small waves, a few already drinking beers poured from big pitchers on the table.
Glenn points to a seat and then takes one opposite me. Part of me wants to slide into the one next to him, but I don’t. I just sit next to Fisher, who is already finishing beer number one.
“Hey, Mr. Wren. Glad you could make it,” he says with a small burp.
I bob my head. “Um, thanks for the invite.”
“Sure. Want to get to know the guy who actually does his job, you know? The other superintendent was a real loser.”
The guys slap their hands on the table, agreeing with him. I feel my cheeks flush, specifically because Glenn is watching me intently.
“Well, it’s easy to do,” I say, and Fisher nudges me gently. I’m the only omega at this table, but for some reason, I feel safe.
That is, until heads turn, and I see Leona appear. Fuck. What’s she doing here? I figured I’d only ever see her at the job site inspecting houses. But no, here she is, looking as pretty as ever.
She takes that seat next to Glenn and then makes things worse by scooting even closer. I hear her voice when she says, “Thanks for inviting me, big guy.”
My jaw clicks, and my hands fold into fists on my lap. I feel my appetite begin to vanish despite my stomach continuing to growl.
