Page 26 of Jack of All Trades

Then, he laughed it off. It wasn’t like they were getting married in a week. They had time to get to know each other.

The one thing he did know, however, was that he needed to quit his job. As jealous as Maltin seemed to be, Jack doubted he’d want Jack still hooking. And Jack knew Colin, knew he’d never send Jack out on jobs that were purely handyman work.

Jack took his mug of coffee upstairs and saw Maltin still out cold. As much as he hated to do it, he found some clothes that would fit him in Maltin’s dresser and got them on, a simple pair of expensive jeans and a shirt that Maltin likely used to clean his precious cars.

The cars. Jack’s memory came out of the fog of their lust, and he remembered the cars. “God, he’s going to lose it.”

After rushing down to the warehouse, he found his shoes in the center row of the cars, then stared in shock at the Corvette, which was nearly totally wrecked. “God! I’m so sorry,” he told the car, then laughed at himself for speaking to a car. “Maltin’s going to shit. Good thing I won’t be here for the explosion.”

He got his shoes and ran back up the stairs, leaving Maltin a note before finishing dressing and leaving the warehouse to head to the bus stop.

He went first to his apartment, wishing for his own clothes before he wrecked more of Maltin’s things. After showering, heput on his best jeans and white shirt before he came out of the bathroom to find two of his roommates drinking coffee at their small kitchen table.

Garvey was one of them, and then there was Pete, who was a small, bookish man with green contacts that were always askew. “Hey guys.”

At first, he was ignored as they perused their phones, then Pete glanced up at him and did a double take. “Wow, you look…different.”

Garvey looked next and said, “Yeah, you do! What the hell?”

He’d looked in the mirror several times but didn’t notice anything. “What do you mean?”

“Well, happier, for sure. Must have had a good client,” Pete said, setting his phone on the table.

“Not a client,” he said, then sat with them. They spoke in whispers to keep their other roommates from waking. “Wait…he is. Or he was. I don’t know.”

“Your mate,” Garvey whispered, and it was so breathy it was nearly inaudible.

“Mate? He has a mate?” Pete asked, his eyes widening enough to see the green of the contacts off by his tear duct.

Garvey ignored Pete momentarily, as his voice rose in his excitement. “You are, aren’t you? That’s why you were asking me all that stuff! And this client, he’s your mate!”

One of the roommates groaned from the bed, and they lowered their voices again. “Garvey, please, don’t tell anyone else.”

“Why? What’s wrong with being a shifter?”

Pete was hanging on every word, and Jack suddenly regretted coming home. “Absolutely nothing.”

“They are the highest form of supe, friend,” Garvey said haughtily.

Pete scoffed, “Not higher than gods.”

“Those rumors again?” Jack asked, irritated. “You guys and your conspiracy theories.”

“I’m telling you, there are gods in this town,” Pete pronounced. “I’d bet you if I wasn’t broke.”

“Can we get back to Jack thinking he’s too good to be a shifter?”

“Right, a witch/shifter,” Pete mused. “That’s a great combination, except if you’re ashamed of one or the other.”

“I’m not ashamed of anything. And…I’m just not sure of anything yet, so I don’t want a big fuss.”

“Oh, you’re a shifter,” Garvey said, grabbing his crotch and adjusting. “I’ve had wood since you started talking to us.”

“Excuse me?”

Pete giggled. He was human, but he worked with supes all the time at his job as a temp personal assistant. “You’re in heat,” he said.

Jack’s jaw dropped for a good thirty seconds. When he managed to close his mouth, he swallowed, cleared his throat, and squeaked, “Oh. You…can tell?”

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