Page 7 of Rugged Alpha: M/M Mpreg Shifter Romance
The Bearclaw Inn was as fancy as the invitation implied. A beautiful restored Victorian with wide porches, balconies on the second floor, and a gorgeous garden of flowers in full bloom. I parked out front and stepped out of my car, taking a breath of all those scents. But to my surprise, besides the roses and carnations and other cottage-florals, I smelled something else. We’d gone to a dude ranch, my dads and I, when I was about eleven. In the Mojave Desert, the place was surrounded by sage and cacti and all sorts of dryland plants. Riding horses across those open spaces, I’d grown to love that dusky aroma.
But why was I smelling it now? I looked around and saw no desert plants at all. Incense from inside maybe?
“Hello! You must be Lennon.” An older man, who must be Franklin who signed the invite, dressed somewhat casually but without a wrinkle or button awry, bustled out onto the porch to greet me. “We were just talking about you.”
We?Was he referring to the one I was there to meet? “Oh?”
“I thought you’d be here about now, and I was right. Get your bags and come right inside for the tour.” He did not wait for an answer, so I grabbed my duffel and hop skipped to catch up. Stepping inside, I paused and took in the comfortable interior. Still very nice, but not the kind of place you wouldn’t feel comfortable sitting down to eat a snack or watch a movie. In other words: not my dads’ fancy living room.
“Wow.”
He looked back over his shoulder and grinned, eyes twinkling. “Well, thank you. I like to think the Bearclaw is somewhere people can relax but also enjoy the surroundings.”
“That’s it exactly.” As if he’d read my mind. “You’ve done a fine job.” I left my bag by the door and followed him through the various downstairs rooms and into the kitchen at the back. Each space was equally pleasant, well cared for, and somewhere anyone would want to hang out. Certainly I would. I was so enjoying myself that I didn’t remember the main reason for being there until I caught that scent again, but this time mingled with fire. Somehow it seemed the perfect combination.
“So,” Franklin was saying, “if you’d like to go upstairs and freshen up, your room is—”
“No.” I realized how rude that sounded and winced. “I’m sorry. I mean, what is that amazing scent? I noticed it in the garden, but it reminded me of a trip to the desert. All those wild and dusty plants? None of which I spotted in your yard.”
“I don’t know.” He sniffed the air. “All I smell is the fire pit where we’re going to cook our dinner tonight. I hope you like kebabs?”
“I do. How weird though. Maybe it’s something in the wood?”
Franklin shrugged. “Maybe. If you’d like to go out and check? I hope it’s not an unpleasant smell. The man I get my firewood from chops it from downed trees on his land. It’s always been the nicest quality.”
“It’s a wonderful smell, but I wonder why you can’t detect it.”
“Oh, you know us oldsters. We don’t have the refined senses you kids today do.” He opened the refrigerator and pulled out a tray with veggie kebabs and also skewers threaded with various marinated meats and shrimp. “Would you be a dear and take this out for me?”
“Of course.” I accepted the tray and looked around. “Anything else you’d like me to carry?”
“Not right now. I have some other things but they are already in an ice chest close to the fire area.” He picked up some glassware and a pitcher of red wine with sliced fruit floating in it. Sangria. Yum!
I opened the door and let Franklin go out ahead of me before following him. The path leading to where the scent of smoke and desert was coming from led around a group of trees, which was the only reason I didn’t see him from the back door.
And totally remember why I was there. The alpha sat in a low chair a few feet away from a blazing fire, feeding it some small logs. He wore his blond hair short, but still a little scruffy, and his back and shoulders were broad, tapering to a trim waist. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, exposing corded forearms that made my mouth water, and his bare feet made me take back everything negative I’d ever said about feet. They were anything but pedicured but somehow conveyed everything about the strength in this man.
At the crunch of our feet on the path, he stood and faced us. Lines fanned out from his blue eyes; his skin tanned as if he spent a lot of time in the desert sun. The scent that had been driving me wild came from him. Desert man. “Franklin, I—”
Our gazes met and locked. I had come here knowing I was not ready for a mate, not nearly stable enough to pull my share of any relationship. I didn’t even have a job. I shouldn’t have come. But this moment—I could not imagine not experiencing it. My wolf was in major freak-out mode, my heart thudding in my chest, and it took all the self-control I had not to toss the tray of food aside and run for him.
“Bjorn, this is Lennon. My other guest this weekend. I’m glad the two of you are here to help out with the grilling. It’s never been my forte but I always enjoy meat cooked over fire.”
“Nice to meet you, Bjorn.” It sounded so banal for what this moment was. I still wasn’t worthy of him and after meeting him was even more sure of that. But I wanted him with every fiber of my being, so I sat down to help cook and then share dinner with this sexy bear and our host. We were only there for the weekend, and it might have to last me a lifetime.