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Harlan

I flipped my helmet up with a jerk of my neck and turned off the torch. The last of the projects was officially done. Sure, I had to grind down some sharp edges but the hard part was done. The cutting. The welding. The shaping.

No clue whether or not these would sell, but the internet seemed to think so. My website had blown up, and I had huge sculpture commissions booked out for over a year, but these little things might catch the attention of local shoppers.

Plus, they were practical.

I’d made a variety of things since I had no idea what people would like. A small tool box. A window planting box. Spoon flowers. One coatrack. A few simple book stands. There were more, and Roan was already packing them into the truck in crates.

My welding pulled in money for our pack, but the way the commissions came in, I could have one huge paycheck every six to eight weeks. While all income was good for our pack, I wanted a steadier stream.

Because steady meant we were stronger as a pack.

And a strong pack could take care of an omega.

Welding was really the only thing I was good at, so I had to make this work.

“Where is the canopy we bought?” Roan ducked his head into my shop. It was a barn when we moved in, but I claimed it as my work area.

“It’s over there. I never took it out of the box. Haven’t had time.”

“That’s fine. I’ve got it.”

Roan was a good worker but hadn’t really found his niche. He did medical billing, but the screen time was killing him slowly. A wolf like him didn’t want to be cooped up all the time but, for now, it was how he contributed.

If I could make this work, perhaps Roan could stop the computer work and help me. Or really invest more serious time in endeavors that made him tick.

While I lined up projects ready to be packed, I thought about our conversation from the day before.

Benji put stock in the app he’d insisted on us downloading.

He was sure we would find our fated omega in seconds.

We had that damned thing downloaded for months.

Nothing. My wolf didn’t howl about a single female.

I’d deleted it from my app over a month ago and simply didn’t tell them about it.

I wanted to meet my omega, our omega, the old-fashioned way. Run into her shopping in town. A chance meeting in an unexpected place.

I wasn’t picky about the way we met her, only that it happened soon. My wolf was antsier lately.

None of us were getting any younger. Besides, we’d heard about the DarkShadow Pack finding their omega. The rumor was, they’d paid for her, but that was of no consequence. I’d give my life savings for my omega if presented with the opportunity.

Plus, someone selling an omega? She was clearly surrounded by assholes before them.

“What else do we need, Har?” Roan shouted from outside the barn. I had a list here somewhere, but it was either buried under something, or I’d burned it up somehow. Wouldn’t be the first or the last time.

“I need the stickers for the prices, and didn’t we buy some tablecloths? Do we even need those? I mean, it’s not a dinner. Why did I buy those again?” My face heated. My chest tightened.

Roan came into the barn. “Because you thought the black tablecloths, and other colors as I remember, would set off the metal? Make it stand out?”

I took a long, deep breath. “Oh yeah. That’s right.”

“Harlan, can I tell you something?”

I let out a humorless laugh. “Sure. Go ahead.”

“We’re okay, financially. And your work is going to sell. Have some faith, will ya? I can feel your stress from here.”

“You have more faith than me.”

“I’ll lend you some.”

We laughed and took a breather to get some lemonade. While we were in the kitchen, Roan insisted I make a list of things we needed to bring with us. It was our first farmer’s market. I wanted everything to be perfect so we could sell a lot.

After the list, we had all the projects and tables and other items in the truck in less than an hour. Because it was going to pour that night, Roan backed the truck into my shop and cut the engine.

“How are your tomatoes coming along?” I asked. He had spent his afternoon helping me with my passion. The least I could do was ask him about his.

“I think they’re going to do well. I just wish I could do more.”

“You will. We’re all a work in progress.”

After a pack dinner of sloppy joes and Tater Tots, we retired for the evening, and Benji started his work.

As I lay in bed that night, I was nervous about how my work would be received by the locals but there was more. My wolf was agitated, like he was anticipating something happening, something big.

Maybe we had big money coming to us.

Yeah, that had to be it.