Two Weeks Later

“I've got to find something soon, Ian. This is getting stupid. Everything I've looked at is too small, too funky, too overpriced for what's there, or just too whatever.”

I sighed as I walked around the corner and headed for Sweet Ballz to meet Milo. “I'm about to walk into Milo's shop now. I'll catch up with you later, okay?”

I clicked the off button on my earpiece and walked into Milo's candy store. Every time I walked in, I was taken back to another era. The walls were painted with vertical pastel pink and mint green stripes. The color theme continued with mint green floor tiles and pink vinyl covered cushions on the white metal chairs that were spaced around the handful of small white tables.

The counter area was all glass and chrome, with large display cases to show off all the wonderful varieties of candy that Milo had available. The kid that Milo had working the counter for the afternoon was dressed like a 1950's soda jerk. The pristine all-white outfit of a short-sleeved button up shirt and pants was topped off by a long, rectangular paper hat that sat jauntily on his head. The shop was adorable, just like it's owner.

I stepped up to the counter, squinting to read the kid's name tag. I knew Milo wasn't far away. His pumpkin spice scent was overpoweringly strong. I don't know how it took me so long to smell it in the first place, it's that strong. “Hey, there. Umm,” I said squinting to read the name tag, squinting and squinting...oh! There it was! “Kent. Hello. I'm looking for Milo.”

The kid looked at me curiously as he scratched at a pimple on his jaw. “Umm. He's, like, in back? But I'm pretty sure that you can't go back there.” He looked at me with vacant eyes as he prodded more at the zit.

“Yeah, Kent. I get that. Would you please just go tell him that Rafe is here is to see him?” I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

“But I'm like, uh, not supposed to leave the counter.” I looked into his dull eyes and said: “Kent, I am the only person here right now. Take ten seconds and go ask Milo to come out or if I can go back. Please? I will watch out for any customers while you are gone, I promise.”

He looked at me as if unsure what to do. I nodded my head with what I hoped resembled an encouraging smile as I pointed toward the door to the kitchen. “Go ahead, Kent. I'll wait right here.”

He walked to the door and disappeared. I figured it was fifty-fifty as to whether he remembered what I'd sent him back there to do. A few minutes later, Kent came back through the swinging door. “Umm. Milo's in the kitchen, but I dunno if he wants to see anyone right now.”

“Did you tell him that I was here?” I was getting irritated with this useless idiot. I'd been seeing Milo everyday for the past couple weeks, it's not as if the dumbass hadn't seen me in here before.

“Umm. No? Because he's like crying and stuff? I didn't know what to do.” His hand went back to the zit as he stood there staring at me.

I went around the counter at that point, edging around the not so helpful employee. “I'm going back there, Kent. Don't worry, if he gets pissed I'll be sure to let him know that you tried to stop me.”

Before I went through the door I looked back at the kid and said firmly: “And Kent? Go wash your nasty hands. You don't ever touch your face, especially to pick a damn zit, when you're working with food. Think about it. It's just gross, dude.”

I left Kent to hopefully wash his hands in the sink behind the counter where they washed their scoops and utensils. After I passed through the door, I stepped into a surprisingly modern kitchen area. As advertised, Milo was sitting at a long metal counter with his face in his hands and crying his heart out.

I went right over and pulled up the stool beside him. I set my messenger bag down on the table and sat down. Reaching out, I put my arms around his shoulders and pulled him up against me. His glasses lay on the table in front of him, on top of a letter. I didn't try to read the letter, but I couldn't miss the law firm letterhead at the top. I'd know that letterhead anywhere, it was from the law office whose managing partner was Ian's father.

Rubbing small circles on his back, I petted and comforted Milo until his crying slowed. “Are you okay, Milo? Do you want to talk about it?” I asked softly, not wanting to overstep or make him cry again.

“N-n-no. It's just an issue with a c-c-competitor. B-but I'd rather not talk about it right now. I'll figure it out. I just got overwhelmed for a bit there.” His stuttering breaths began to calm. His head rested on my shoulder and I felt his hot breath against my neck.

“Okay. Well, how about I take you to lunch then? Or can you leave? No offense, but I'm not sure if I would leave Kent in charge of the place while you left anyway.”

Milo laughed and sat back onto his own stool, his tear-streaked face lighting up. “I know. That kid is helpless. I keep hoping he'll get better, but I don't see him improving. I just feel bad firing him. He means well, you know? Besides, the next kid I'd find to hire would be just as bad. The pickings are not so great in this little town.”

“So. I had planned to sit in your pretty little candy parlor and do some writing until you close up for the day. Would you rather that I hang out back here instead? I can keep you company while you work if you want.” It surprised me that I was nervously waiting for an answer. In the short amount of time that we'd known each other, Milo had become all too important to me.

“Hmm. Do you take instruction well, Rafe? Can you handle getting bossed around by an omega?” Milo looked at me with assessing eyes. “I actually have a large order of PBF Bombz that I need to fill today, if you'd like to help me.”

I jumped up from my stool. “Really? I can help? That's so cool! Of course, I can take direction from you, Milo. What, do I look like an alpha-douche or something? Wait. What's PBF?”

Milo giggled and stood, taking a step closer to me. “Let's go with or something. And PBF is Peanut Butter Fudge. Don't worry, I'll give you some extra to take home. I'm not completely cruel.”

I narrowed my eyes and grabbed his hips. When I lifted him, his hands went right to my shoulders and hung on. I spun in a circle, laughing up into his face that hovered over mine. Our eyes caught, and the laughs subsided as the air grew thicker between us.

Milo slid down my body as I lowered him to the floor. We stood there breathless. We were pressed together, chest to chest and face to face. His hands remained on my shoulders, mine on his hips. Our lips finally clashed together after a few days, or several seconds, who could really tell at that point.

My thought processes came to a full stop. I couldn't think at all. I could only feel. I felt the soft velvet of Milo's tongue dancing with mine. I felt the fluttering on my cheek from his eyelashes. I felt each exhaled burst of warm breath from his nostrils. I felt his heart pounding against my chest, where mine was pounding too. I felt the grip of Milo's hands on my shoulders as he clung to me. But more than anything, I felt the bar of steel that was pressed against my hip.

I broke the kiss as soon as I regained my senses. Panting, I looked into his eyes that were blown wide with lust. “Milo. Babe. We have to stop. I'm pretty sure this isn't food grade behavior, yeah?”

Milo snorted out a laugh as he took a step back. “Yeah, the county inspector probably wouldn't approve.” He looked thoughtfully at the ceiling for a moment then back at me with a laugh. “Actually though? He probably would. He's a creepy alpha that would probably give me a full A+ rating if I let him sit and watch.”

When he saw my bugged out eyes and open mouth, Milo laughed harder. The little shit pulled his phone out of his pocket and snapped a pic. I grabbed for his phone, but he shrugged away with a giggle and commented: “Hey, I just took a picture so it would last longer! Isn't that the usual advice?”

“Milo? If that winds up on social media...”

Before I could finish the threat, Milo chortled and skirted around me. “Social media? Screw that! This is going on my holiday cards this year!”

A short time later I found myself washed, gloved, hair netted and wrapped in a huge pink apron. Milo had given me a warning glare as he put the apron on me and tied the strings, so I hadn't said a word. Anything I'd said would have been in fun anyway. I didn't care what I was wearing. I was just enjoying being here with Milo in this moment and sharing his work with him.

Milo cleaned the work station, then brought over a huge bowl of something gooey and peanut buttery from the industrial refrigerator at the back of the room. After a quick demonstration of how to properly form a ball and roll it smoothly into the uniform size that Milo required, he left me to it. While I made the balls, Milo melted chocolate in a double boiler at the big stove that stood a few feet away from the work surface where I was stationed.

I saw him whisking in a pinch of this and a dash of that, but had no idea what he'd used. It was definitely a new side of Milo, to see him confidently moving around the kitchen. Once the chocolate was prepared, he brought it over and set it across from me. He laid out trays lined with wax paper. Milo sat down then, and picked up a pair of tongs. I watched as he dipped the balls I'd rolled into the chocolate mixture.

With deft flicks of his wrist, he dipped and placed each ball on the prepared trays. He caught up with me quickly. Once I finished my job, I started cleaning my mess while he finished his part of the job. As I worked, I thought about how amazing it was that every time I learned something new about Milo, it only made me more interested in him.