Spencer took a spot next to me at the railing. “You gonna tell us about him?”
“Not much to tell,” I replied. “He’s just a customer.”
He snorted. “I might have bought that last month when you were only a little bit distracted. But it’s clear that he’s the only thing on your mind tonight.”
I stared out at Mount Sable—the sky illuminated from below with lights from cars, streetlamps, and homes, and from the moon and stars above.
I thought about Randy and how the light that reflected off his beard resembled stars.
Spencer laughed. “Robbie wasn’t joking. I’m glad I’m an alpha, or you’d be trying to send me into heat, too.”
“Ass,” I mumbled.
He nudged me with his shoulder. “You said he’s a customer. Are you even sure you’ll see him again?”
I nodded. “Probably. He’s a regular.”
“At least there’s that.”
I let out a long breath. “My alpha side has insisted that he’s mine since we met.”
“In a fated way?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think so. There was no overwhelming urge to breed him immediately, and I don’t think he noticed anything at all. Everybody I know who’s fated says they couldn’t keep their hands off each other.”
“But your alpha still says he’s yours?”
I nodded, folded my arms on the railing, and rested my chin on top. It was an awkward position, but felt right.
The sound of the balcony door sliding open and footsteps as everybody else came outside. They stayed quiet, though, letting Spencer take the lead.
I took a deep breath. “A few minutes after we met… I was talking with Harrison—the other guy up front—and wasn’t paying attention to where Randy—my omega—was digging in the scrap bin. I hear those scraps being sorted through and tumbling all day, but he was there, and wood had clattered. It didn’t matter that the worst those scraps can do is cut you. They mostly fit in your hand. No, the sound of a handful of pieces was enough to send me into a protective overdrive.”
Part of me expected Spencer to laugh, but he didn’t. Neither did anybody else. “Sounds serious.”
“It is,” I admitted. “I dream about him sometimes. How he’d fit into my arms. Sweet morning kisses while his dog lies on the floor nearby.”
“He has a dog?”
“Yeah. Some type of shag breed. His name is Russy, though everybody else at the mill calls him Spud.”
“Spud?”
I chuckled. “Yeah, but I haven’t asked why.”
“Tell me more about this man you think is your omega.”
“Randy.” I smiled. “He’s a woodturner, though he also does other types of wood projects.”
“Makes sense why he’s a regular at the mill then.”
“I guess he does mostly treasure hunting with us, rather than relying on us for wood. He told me he has a forest plot facing Sable Lake, and uses a lot of trees from his property for his work.”
I closed my eyes for a moment to gather my thoughts, then opened them again. “He’s pretty down-to-Earth. Sensible, but a bit sassy in the right situation. He had a large order for pickup—some of his own trees we’d processed for him. It took him three trips over two days to pick it up, and I was able to talk to him while loading. He lives a pretty simple life. Him and his dog in an old cabin on his land. He has chickens and runs an honesty stand during the summer. Splits his own firewood. Drives a truck almost as old as I am… if not older.”
“Does he support himself with the woodturning, or is it a hobby?”
“He’s made a career for himself with it. He’s observant, and understands the market. He diversifies his products so that there are things at multiple price points and that match current trends.”
