Page 1 of Home for Nathan (Secret Springs)

Chapter

One

“ N athan? Could you check and see if we’re out of tuna salad sandwiches in the deli case? I think we are. If so, make another half a dozen.”

“Sure.” Nathan Barnes nodded, reminding himself that he needed this job, even though Ed knew that tuna made him puke.

And it didn’t matter that he was almost four months pregnant now and showing a little bit, his morning sickness had not given any real signs of abating, because he was lucky that way. There were certain things—tuna salad, sardines, salmon—anything that came from the water—that made him throw up.

But he had a job.

He needed a job because he had a baby coming, and he was starting to show, so it wasn’t like he’d get another job for a year-ish.

He guessed he’d just have to puke, wash his hands, and make more freaking tuna salad sandwiches.

God hated him.

Not only did God hate him, but his ex, the asshole named Don, hated him even more.

Don had accused him of getting pregnant on purpose, which he hadn’t. Nathan had taken birth control, but nothing was a hundred percent, and shit happened. Unfortunately, when one was an omega, and shit happened, the alpha could walk away like it was nothing, and well, Nathan couldn’t…

He went into the back of the Sundrop Natural Grocers and grabbed the tuna, the mayo, the celery, and the spices. Tuna sandwiches, ho.

Thank God he’d known someone here in Secret Springs. He’d met Saul when they were waiting tables together back in the city, and they’d become friends almost immediately.

In fact, Saul had been very much in the same position then that Nathan was in now. Poor guy. Pregnant, alone, with a hostile baby daddy. It sucked hairy donkey balls.

At least Nathan had a safe place to live. Thank goodness for Saul when Nathan had called in hysterical tears with, “I’m pregnant, and Don sucks, and I don’t know what to do, and I don’t need you to do anything for me. I just… I’m only worried.”

Saul had just said, “Well, I’ll tell you what. I have a friend who rents out apartments to omegas who need help. They’re affordable, clean, safe, and you can stay there as long as you need to.”

Nathan didn’t want to think about how long “need to” was going to be, but he was going to be grateful he had a crazy, weird apartment furnished with the wildest stuff.

It was kind of like walking into a fantasy novel home—books of every shape and size, artwork ranging from portraits to landscapes to stunning blocks of color.

Nothing matched, but it still all worked.

It was adorable and welcoming and goofy and apparently every omega who had stayed had left a little of themselves there.

It was just like walking into a real home, and Nathan at least felt safe and wanted.

And he had a job and a little car that ran ninety percent of the time.

And he didn’t have to drive it because he could just walk from the Merchante building, across the courtyard, then down the street, and there was the grocery store.

Thank goodness, too, that he had retail experience. Ed had just said, “Yes, we’d love to have you,” when he’d applied for the job.

Now, if it wasn’t for the tuna fish…

Nathan took a deep breath in, then let it out—s mell the roses, blow out the candle as his old yoga teacher would have said—before he started opening tuna cans. And then he had to run for the bathroom as soon as he cracked one lid.

“Ugh.” He washed up when he was done, sighing as he headed back to work. Too bad the bathroom was like, a mile from the deli counter.

He needed a clothespin for his nose.

Nathan took another deep breath before he got to the tuna, then held it for as long as he could while he drained it out and dumped it into one of the big mixing bowl dealies.

He’d chopped a bazillion pounds of celery this morning, so all he had to do was to dump in a few cups.

Then the mayo and seasoning. Salt, pepper, garlic, and onion powder.

Ed said people had objected to raw onion in the tuna.

Oh, and the pickle relish. Right.

He had to breathe, and he gagged, trying not to lose it.

“Tuna’s not your favorite, huh?”

Crap. He turned to the deli counter with, he hoped, a smile on his face. His eyes widened, because that might be the most beautiful man he’d ever seen.

Like, ever.

Solid and muscular. Not too tall, but taller than him. Shaggy blond hair. Smiling hazel eyes, more green than gold. And the best smile lines around said eyes and the man’s mouth. The best.

And here he was with tuna ick.

“May I help you?”

“I hope so. I am in desperate need of shaved turkey and baby Swiss. Unless you react to that like you do tuna.”

“Of course not. I’m sorry. It’s not normally like this…” Shaved turkey, baby Swiss. Got it. “How much do you need?”

Do you like pregnant omegas?

The smile he got almost knocked him clean over it was so amazing. “Half a pound of each, I think. The only thing working at my new place is the fridge, so I anticipate a lot of sammies.”

“Are you new in town too?” Was that coming on too strong? God, he was a dork.

“I am. My friend Kaleb convinced me that this was just the place for an outdoor sports junkie.”

Something poked at the back of his mind, something familiar about the guy, but Nathan couldn’t place it.

“That’s neat. I’ve only been here for a few weeks myself.”

“Do you all like it?” Mr. Stunningly Beautiful asked, and Nathan nodded.

“I like it just fine. It’s a good place to have a new start, a fresh start.” He cleaned the slicer and cut a single slice of Swiss, offering it over. “Is this a good thickness?”

He didn’t know how to just say, “Look, I don’t have a husband or a wife or a baby daddy or anything. I don’t have an alpha of my own. I’m doing this by myself. I’m single but for the baby.” It really was not something that one brought up at work at the grocery store.

Not to mention that this man was totally out of his league. Nathan knew he had to be. It was a nice fantasy, though. He might be able to use it to have some stress relief later in the evening when he was home from work.

“Perfect on the Swiss, but I want the turkey shaved so as thin as you can get it. I like to mound it up and pretend like it’s a mountain of turkey.”

Okay, yeah, that was good enough to make him gag again, but he kept it in this time, “Right on. Half a pound of Swiss on one and half a pound of turkey on triple zero.”

“That’s it.” That smile came again, just as devastating as the…

“Zion McKellan.”

The guy blinked. “That’s me. You a snowboarding fan?”

“Are you kidding? I’ve probably seen every run Shaun White and Chloe Kim have ever made. And you’re a terror on the halfpipe! Wow.”

“Thanks. I have been known to shred.” Zion’s smile went wry. “Though that last crash was pretty much my swan song. I’m retired except for some exhibitions.”

“Oh.” He stopped slicing Swiss to stare. “Are you—I mean, is that a congratulations or an I’m sorry?”

“I guess it’s an ‘it is what it is.’ I’m hoping to do some outdoor sports outfitting here.”

“Oh, neat.” He wrapped up the cheese, printing the sticker by weight to put on it. Then he started on the turkey. Not gonna puke. Not not notty not.

“So, uh…”

He glanced over, making sure not to slice his fingers. “Not good?”

“No, it’s great. I just—Are you on your own? And if that’s none of my business, just tell me.” Those tanned cheeks had gone red, which was adorable, even if it was a little nosy.

His own face heated almost painfully. “I am. I made a bad choice, and he took off.”

Zion suddenly seemed confident again, the smile back. “Is that an I’m sorry, or a congratulations?”

A giggle escaped him, a high, silly sound. “I think it’s an it-is-what-it-is thing, too. I don’t miss him.”

Zion watched him carefully. “What’s your name?”

“Um. Nathan. Nathan Barnes.”

“Well, Nathan. If I promise not to make it tuna fish, would you like to go out to supper this weekend? I’m going to try out that Fuel place.”

His brain started to rabbit on him. He was at work. Was this appropriate? Did he want to go on a date with another alpha? He was pregnant. Had Zion noticed? Zion was famous! What could Zion possibly want with a guy like him? And was this a pity invite? Did it matter?

“I would love that,” his mouth said, completely independent of his brain.

“Excellent. Can we exchange numbers? I can give you some references if you want. That I’m not a scary stalker weirdo, you know?”

“Oh, I think I know more about you than you do me.” He wrapped up the turkey so he could hand it over. “You ready?”

Zion tugged out his phone. “I am.”

He rattled off his number, and seconds later, his phone buzzed with a text.

“There’s mine. Is Saturday night good?”

“It is if it’s after five thirty.”

“Perfect. I’ll text when I know I have a reservation.”

“Okay.” He was blushing again. He could feel it.

“Thanks for the sandwich stuff.” Zion winked, and he just nodded and waved and watched as the man sauntered off.

He had a date. With Zion McKellan. That was wild.

He just hoped it wasn’t a huge mistake.