Chapter Twelve
Harrison
“Jaxon, if you wanna lift, you need to get a move on it.” When I agreed to apprentice Henry’s son after his life fell into the toilet, I wasn’t surprised his work ethic erred on the side of nonexistent. That I could work with. What had taken me aback was his inability to stay in the present. He was always disappearing into his head and missing things I mentioned to him. Things like, “I’m heading into town in five minutes if you want a ride.”
“Sorry, boss.” He grabbed his coat. “I was just thinking—”
“About?” I wasn’t even sure why I asked. That phrase usually was the start of some weird plan of his to make me famous. I very much did not want to be famous. I made enough of a living to be comfortable and enjoyed living in Mapleville where everyone knew my name because I was local, and not because I went viral on the Internet or whatever cockamamie idea he was conjuring up.
Great. That led me back to thinking about Lucas. It had been three days since he was picked up by the man from before, not that I was jealous. It wasn’t as if he were mine. He couldn’t be. Not really. He was here being famous, bringing a touch of that fame to our town, and then he was going to be gone.
“Boss!”
I snapped out of my inward spiral of why things couldn’t work. I’d been traveling that path far too often lately.
“What?”
“Were you even listening to me? I swear you are turning into me.” That gave me pause. I assumed he was spacey because he just was. Jaxon didn’t know a ton about my situation, but he knew enough to know I was not in the best of places emotionally.
“Nope. No cameras and pretty pictures for me. I am all about the wood.”
“You do know how awful that sounded.” Jaxon chuckled. Yeah, it really did.
“I am aware,” I scoffed, jingling my keys. “You want a ride or not?”
“I guess,” he sighed. “I need to find my own place.”
That had been a common theme to Jaxon’s angst since he moved back, but as far as I could tell, he did not a thing to alleviate it. Nothing. For all I knew, the salary I paid him went to past debts or something because, from what I saw, he wasn’t spending it on take-away or fancy gadgets even though Jaxon was all about the gadget.
“Living with your dad stressful?” I’d lived with my grandfather until the day he passed, first as child then as caregiver. For me, it was how things were, and I never regretted a day of it, but I knew I was unusual for my generation.
“That and I feel like I let him down. You know?” Jaxon closed his eyes, pressing them with the heels of his hands. “I got all that insurance money when my grams died, and what did I do? I forgot where I came from, I forgot the man he raised me to be.”
“It’s not really my business, but your dad seems to be glad you’re home and worried about you, not disappointed.” Henry was always proud of Jaxon, even when, by all accounts, he shouldn’t have been.
I didn’t know all of Jaxon’s story, but he was infamous locally for inheriting a huge sum of money from a grandmother he hadn’t known existed and then running off to be important. Who thought giving an eighteen-year-old a shit-ton of money and then setting him loose in the world was a good idea?
“They’re worried about you, too.” Jaxon gave me the look, the one Vivian was famous for. It was almost amusing seeing him pick up her characteristics as he got to know his new stepmother. Almost, except when it revealed they were worried about me. They had their own lives to deal with and didn’t need that extra burden.
“You are not really good at the subtle change of subject,” I said, trying to do the same thing.
“No. Subtle was never my thing.” He slammed his hands into his coat pockets.
“I know they’re worried, and it will all work out.” And it would, too. It had to. I had another human needing me to get my shit together.
“You’re a single omega who’s knocked up. That’s not the best situation.”
He wasn’t wrong.
“Ahhh, but I am a single omega who is financially stable, lives in a supportive community, has a fairly meh assistant, and a Vivian who already wants to spoil my child rotten.” Because, yeah, I had made the list in my head numerous times as I tried to figure this out. “I’d say I am in a better place than most mated pairs expecting their first.”
“But the alpha.” Jaxon bit his lip, looking down as if he had just stepped on a land mine.
“What will be will be with that.” I shrugged, in no way mad at him as he appeared to fear I’d be.
“You like him.” It was a statement, not a question, and he was right. I did. More than.
“Of course I do—that’s usually how these things happen.” I rubbed my belly for good measure, winking, trying to lighten things up.
“You know what I mean. If you want to talk or something.”
I walked to the door, opening it in a very in-your-face hint. “I’ll take that under advisement.”
“You do realize I call dibs on your newborn pictures—oh, and your paternity shoot,” he bantered as he walked by me and out the front door.
“You and your camera. Why did you agree to be my assistant when your heart is in photography?”
That stopped him dead in his tracks.
“I’m saving my money for some photography and business classes at the college.”
So many things clicked into place when he uttered those words. He was far less wayward than I had thought.
“So you have a plan.” I nodded, closing the door behind us.
“I do, but don’t tell Henry. He thinks this is my plan, and it gives him comfort.” He pointed to my workshop, and he was right. Henry did like him working with me. He thought I was a responsible adult, which, given my current situation, was pretty darn amusing.
“Deal.” I headed to my truck. “Ready,” I called back when he didn’t follow me, instead staring at his phone.
“Ready.” He put the phone back in his pocket and jogged to the truck. “And, Harrison. Give the hot chef dude a chance.” He slapped me on the shoulder playfully, but there was a serious tone to his words. Jaxon was an interesting fellow.
“I will. I’m just trying to figure out how.” I climbed into the truck and buckled my seat belt as he got in on his side.
“We are so different,” I continued. And really that was the crux of all of it.
“You both create with your hands.”
“And he does it for fame. I do it for financial stability.” I started the truck and put it in gear.
“Same thing, if you ask me,” Jaxon replied before taking out his phone again.
Shit. What if Jaxon was right and I had the entire fame thing wrong?