Chapter Eighteen

“Your usual, Bernard?” I asked the older man who’d walked in at the same time every day since he and I had our chat on the bench. The day Glen rushed out of here with his emergency and I decided for the first time in a long time, to stay in one place—for a while.

According to Maxwell, Bernard had never graced the coffee shop with his presence before my talk with him.

That had been a month ago.

“Yes. Please, Pike.” He sat at his regular table, and I brought his coffee over in one of our old-style cups. He said if he’d known we served in real cups, he’d have come in long ago.

“Here you go. Anything newsworthy?” I asked. Sometimes, Bernard would give me the scoop. Oliver Creek headlines that no one else had seen yet. For someone so quiet, he sure was full of stories.

“I’ve got someone coming in to meet me. But you didn’t hear anything about a new food truck in town from me. It’s going to be…spicy for sure.”

I laughed and went back to the counter, cleaning up before the rush at seven thirty.

Maxwell walked up behind me and patted my ass before restocking the cups and sleeves. “You’re quiet this morning,” he said, giving me that sultry look over his shoulder. While we had decided to keep things professional here at work, we continued to ride that line. We touched each other in passing. Whispered naughty things we would like to do later.

“I’m tired. Not sure why. I went to bed early last night.”

Maxwell put the cups aside and came to stand next to me. “I shouldn’t have woken you so early this morning,” he said, touching the tips of his fingers to mine.

I chuckled. “I thought I was the one who woke you up.”

Maxwell and I had been on a honeymoon that lasted longer than any in history, and I never wanted it to end.

He had me thinking things I had no business thinking. Like staying here. Being his omega not just in name but as his partner in this life. I was at odds with myself every second of every day.

My bobcat was less than pleased when my thoughts drifted to leaving, getting back on the road.

I’d even considered asking Maxwell if he would come with me, but he had this wonderful life here. His beautiful house. His thriving business. He was happy here.

I had no right to ask him to leave all of this behind.

“Do you need to go home for the day? Maybe after the rush? I have a cot at the house, in storage. I kept it from my old camping days. I could bring it and set it up in the office for you. Or are you hungry? Name whatever you want, and I’ll go…”

“Hey,” I said, putting my hand on his shoulder. “I’m okay. Just a little tired. And I know this great place that serves a killer double espresso.”

“Let me,” Max said, reaching for the tiny espresso cups. I sat down in the back, taking inventory of myself and the time I’d been here. Overthinking all of this had never plagued me like it did during my time with Maxwell in Oliver Creek.

“One of the new chocolate croissants for the sexiest omega in town,” he said, putting a plate in front of me.

“Thank you.” I lifted the croissant to my mouth, intending to take a bite but, when I did, I noticed something off. “Hey, we made this today?” I asked, sniffing the other sides, turning it this way and that, thinking that somehow I was mistaken. The baker he’d hired made the best pastries. Maxwell made some of them, but this new one was made by Dylan.

“I did. Is something wrong with it?” Maxwell took the croissant from the plate where I’d dropped it and instead of smelling, popped it into his mouth. “It’s delicious. Are you…” He put the back of his hand to my forehead. “You aren’t feverish.”

“Weird. I’m sure it’s great.” I sipped on the coffee instead and even noticed that my favorite double espresso had a more bitter taste than I remembered, even from the day before.

“And the coffee? It’s the same?” I stared at the alpha, going through things in my head. I usually had a cast-iron stomach, especially after eating such a variety of dishes while traveling, but, lately, things were hit or miss.

“It’s the same, omega.” He stood over me, now feeling the back of my neck. What he expected to feel from that, I didn’t know, but his touch soothed me somewhat, even though my stomach still revolted.

“I don’t know what’s going on, then,” I said. Maxwell looked more concerned than I felt. He remained tender and kind, ever loving even though the thought of me leaving at a moment’s notice loomed over our relationship. “Go on back to work, alpha.” I rarely called him that in the shop, but this time it applied since he was so worried. “I’ll be okay.”