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I chuckled. “I have a crew working in the back, remember? They have tools, and once, I took a woodworking class where we used a jigsaw. So I borrowed one. Do you like it?”
“Like it? I love it!” He took it from me and carried it up to stand it next to the truck. “It even stays up.”
“That was the idea.” I followed him inside, and he made me a snowball in some combination of flavors I never guessed but absolutely loved. “So good.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re the best.” West touched a countertop and winced. “Really sticky. I need to get this thing cleaned up so I don’t draw every ant in Oliver Creek.”
“How about we clean up?” I wanted him to know if he had something to do, we had something to do. And not because I had to but because I wanted to. “And I thought maybe we could do dinner tomorrow if you’re free?”
His smile faded, and I could almost read his mind. An alpha was always raised to pick up the tab, to be responsible, and it had to be hard for him to feel like he didn’t have any extra money for things like restaurant meals right now. Before he could say anything, I continued, “Because I have some chicken we can put on the grill at my house?”
Chapter Fourteen
West
I thought of myself as a modern man. A believer in equality and respect for all.
But here I was, stressing over roles of omegas and alphas like a fool. Still, my bear demanded I be the alpha of this relationship in all ways. Providing for Antoine. Protecting him. Making all his needs priority in our life.
I got home from setting up the truck and took a long shower. Antoine had seen all of me, and this was a casual date, but I still wanted to present myself well to him. I craved his smile, his happiness.
After showering and getting dressed in some dark jeans and a light-gray button-down shirt, I made my way to the kitchen, remembering all the flavors that had piqued his interest as we searched for options.
He seemed very interested in the tropical flavors.
I pulled out the flour and other ingredients to make a simple homemade cake. My fathers had taught me to never go to a person’s home for a visit without something to offer, even if it was small. In minutes, I whipped up a vanilla cake and used some guava jam as the filling between the two layers. There was just enough cream cheese in the fridge for me to create an icing, along with powdered sugar and milk.
At least, I had this to offer.
I knocked on his door, and he gushed over my offering. He put his finger into the frosting and licked it off. “What?” he asked.
“Keep that up and we’ll be having dessert before dinner.”
Antoine cooked some lemon-pepper baked chicken and a tomato, cucumber salad. Perfect for a summer night. And at this point, anything that wasn’t bean soup or eggs and toast was gourmet to me.
“Tell me about your family,” I said as we dug into the food.
“My dads were incredible.” A smile I hadn’t seen before graced his face. “They encouraged me in everything I did, even when there were some who told me there was no money or future in art. That I would end up with art as my hobby, along with a real job. They turned that little shed in the back into a studio for me soon after I showed them my first painting. The teacher said I had natural talent.”
“You do have a great talent, Antoine. Truly. So, this is the house you grew up in? I hadn’t realized that.”
He nodded. “When my dads retired, they had been dreaming of moving to Key West. Spending their later years in the sun and they both love the ocean.”
“So they gave you this house?” I asked.
“No,” he laughed. “By the time they decided to retire, they put this house up for sale and I had my first big gallery showing. It sold out, and I used most of the money to buy this house. It felt wrong to see strangers living in it. Plus, after spending most of my teenaged years dreaming of getting out of this small town, all I wanted to do was to be here.”
“Happens to the best of us. I thought I wanted the life of a model. Traveling. Living in big cities. Always on the go. But at the end of the day, none of the beds were comfortable. The food didn’t hit right. I wanted a home base.”
“That’s why you bought the house here.”
I nodded. “Oliver Creek feels like home. Plus, all the up-and-coming food trucks and restaurants, I saw my out from the bustle of my career.”
“And your parents?” he asked.
“My dad Otto is alive and well. My other dad, Adam…well, we lost him to cancer. It wrecked both of us.” So rare among shifters, it caught us completely off guard
