Page 6 of A Home for His Omega

“What kind of flooring are you thinking about?”

“Um, I don’t know for sure.” Henry watched Journey sniff around edges of the wall. “My sister thinks we should do some kind of Art Deco thing.”

Tomás hummed to himself and bent to study the carpet in the tiny living room. It was in horrible shape and would have to be pulled up. He took a pocketknife from his back pocket and cut a square of the carpet away.

“Look at that,” he said, moaning as he pulled more of the carpet away. “That’s antique heart pine. Back in the day, long leaf pine trees almost went extinct from logging because everyone wanted this right here. It’s making a return now, slowly but surely, but it would be a shame to cover this beauty up.”

“What do you suggest?” Henry knelt beside him, close enough Tomás could smell his rich, omega scent.

The man was handsome, there was no doubt about that, but there was more pulling Tomás toward him. His shoes, Tomás thought, studying Henry’s expensive brown boots. Everything about him shouted wealth, but those shoes had some miles on them. They were scuffed and well-worn. They stood out just like that bright smile on the omega’s face when he talked about this house or the animals at the sanctuary.

After a moment, Henry elbowed him. “Tomás? What would you suggest I do with the flooring?”

Tomás shook himself. “Yeah, okay. I would pull up the carpet and take a good look at the floor. Then, we could sand it down to clean away any grime. After that, a coat of clear poly would show off all its perfect imperfections.”

Henry watched him with rounded eyes, seemingly hanging on Tomás’s every word. “Perfect imperfections?”

“My brother, Harper, is a woodworker, and he told me that every piece of wood has its own story to tell. Of course, there’s a piece’s species, grain pattern, and appearance, but if you do it right, you can show off its personality. Look at this plank here. It’s warm, inviting, and you can even see a knot in the wood grain. At one time, when this plank was part of a tree, a branch grew here. Now, it’s part of your home.”

“We can’t cover this wood up.” Henry gave him a fierce look. “Everyone needs to see its story.”

“Well said.”

Henry’s answering smile lit something in Tomás, and he fought the urge to lean over and kiss the omega. He desperately wanted to keep Henry smiling. This job will be the death of me, he thought, sighing.

Henry

“Sam, where are you?” Henry yelled as he ran into the goat barn. The barn was separated into three different sections and Sam was in the stall for the smaller goats.

“What?” Sam stumbled over a goat as he hurried to the stall gate. “Shit, sorry Goaty McGoatface.”

Henry leaned over the stall walls, hanging down to pet one of his favorites, a brown pygmy goat named Popcorn. “Something happened.”

The blood drained from Sam’s face. “Is it Teague? Corey? Aunt Mia? Did the murderer get them?”

Henry rolled his eyes. “For fuck’s sake, Sam. No one is dead. There’s not a crazed murderer running around Hobson Hills.”

Sam fell against the stall gate. “Don’t scare me like that. What’s happened?”

“Tomás Wilson.” Henry focused on scratching under Popcorn’s chin, suddenly feeling like a fool for rushing all the way home just to talk to Sam. The man was just so easy to talk to, and he always made time to listen to Henry.

Sam leaned back and studied him for a moment. “You look good when you smile like that.”

Henry rolled his eyes and pulled Popcorn’s ear. “I smile all the time.”

“Not like this.” Sam shook his head and propped his arms on top of the gate, ignoring the goats gathering behind him, slowly moving closer. “This is a real smile, full of joy and shit like that.”

“You have such a way with words.”

“Don’t pull out your snooty voice,” Sam said. Goaty McGoatface was the first to start nibbling on Sam’s coat, but the other goats quickly followed suit. “Damn it!”

Henry snickered as the goats pulled Sam to them, the shorter ones hanging from where they’d clamped onto his clothes. “Gramps talked about his family, but there’s so there’s so many of them that I can’t keep them all straight. Do you know anything about Tomás? Is he single?”

Sam hopped in place, trying to dislodge the goats. “Can I get some help?”

“Nope.”

“You’re so mean.” Sam spun around in a circle, the herd of goats turning with him. “I had already moved away when the Wilsons adopted him and his sister, but Aunt Mia kept me caught up on the gossip. First, everyone talked about how he was too old for Bennett and Marco to adopt since he was eighteen. Then when he enrolled in high school with their kids, some parents were worried because he was a big guy, and no one knew anything about his past. He was only there for a semester before he graduated, so talk quieted down quickly. Other than that, I think someone told Aunt Mia he’d been in trouble with the law before. I don’t know. Small town gossip isn’t exactly reliable.”

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