Page 1 of Tempting Frey
1
FREY
When Oliver Klondike turned eighteen, I took it personally. It felt like fate was pranking me.
I remembered little Ollie zooming around Beauville on a goddamn tricycle. Tonight, he blew out eighteen candles on the slightly crooked two-tier chocolate cake his omega dad Phil had made him and drank champagne with the grown-ups.
How could Chickie’s baby boy already be an adult?
Monty brought a karaoke machine to Chickie’s backyard, and he and Jordy built a makeshift podium from pallets. Even Barclay got up there, and while he didn’t sing, he used the mic to make a brief speech that left everybody misty-eyed. Oliver’s older brothers and cousins performed some silly birthday song parody, and the ruckus must have been heard all over Beauville. Nobody complained, though, since half the town was at the party. Besides, it was the sheriff’s youngest son’s eighteenth birthday; who would folks call to complain? The mayor? Oops, that was me, the sheriff’s best friend.
Phil and Chickie were the perfect image of proud parents, and Oliver laughed, eyes shining and cheeks pink. He was pretty. He’d be breaking hearts at college.
The celebration was so sickeningly wholesome… and I felt old. Iwasold.
Little Ollie wasn’t little anymore. He’d soon be off to college. My friends had adult children, and I lived alone.
Time was cruel.
I walked home late and buzzing, which didn’t stop me from pouring myself a nightcap. I didn’t turn on the light in the living room. Instead, I opened the patio door and gazed at the starry sky above the mountains as I drank my whiskey. The night remained hot, with crickets chirping in the bushes.
When I downed the last drop, determined to go to bed, somebody knocked on the door. Beauville was quiet, boring, and predictable, and I liked it that way. A sudden knock on my door in the middle of the night couldn’t mean good news.
I set the empty tumbler on the bar in my living room and went to open the door.
My porch light illuminated a head full of honey-blond and copper hair. Large green eyes blinked up at me, anxious.
“Oliver? What are you doing here?”
“Hello, Frey.” At first, my heart picked up. Had something happened to Phil or Chickie? But Oliver looked nervous, not outright scared or sad.
“It’s nothing bad,” he assured me. “I just need to talk to you. Is it okay if I come in?”
I stepped aside to let him in and closed the door. He’d changed clothes since the party. Now he wore an oversized dress shirt with skinny jeans and white sneakers.
“It’s… I need your advice. I can’t bring this up with my dads. And all my friends from school are… They’re just kids, you know? And you’re a friend. A good friend. I figured I could talk to you.”
Oliver’s halting explanation only freaked me out more. I showed him to the living room.
“Can I have something to drink?” he asked as he made himself at home on my sofa.
“I’m not giving you alcohol.”
His crooked smile looked way too knowing for such a young omega. Oliver had inherited his smarts from Phil. Not that Chickie was dumb in any way, not at all, but Phil was quick and playful. Young Oliver reminded me of Phil’s snarky side.
“I didn’t ask for alcohol,” he said.
I leaned on the bar counter so I wouldn’t fidget. Why did the kid make me apprehensive? “Okay. How about I make you a cup of tea?”
He gave me a blinding smile, dimples and all. “That would be great. Thank you.”
“I’ll be right back.”
In the kitchen, I put the kettle on. I was lost as to why he was here. Did he want to talk about college? Maybe he wanted advice about his major or something, and he figured I’d be more objective than his parents. But why come in the middle of the night? My head was fuzzy because of the whiskey I’d drunk, but the more I thought about it, the less comfortable I felt alone with Oliver in my home after dark. Something about it didn’t feel right.
Unless he needed something urgent, I’d send him home. I’d ask him to come to my office on Monday morning instead.
When I entered the living room a few minutes later, I almost dropped the tea. My knees weak, I set the steaming mug on the bar counter.
