Page 8 of Tempting Frey
Hunter shrugged. “Maybe he was homesick. He looks happy.”
He did. He was chatting away with Calvin, tapping his fingers on the table to the music from the jukebox. Monty sauntered toward them, his big body hiding them from view, but then he turned and waved at us.
“What does he want now?” Hunter grumbled. “Didn’t it occur to him that Calvin and Oliver might want to be left alone?”
But Monty, the owner of the Beauville B&B and the pub, thought that good service meant making as many people as possible talk and laugh as loudly as possible. Since Jordy stood behind the bar tonight, Monty had way too much time to wander around and harass his guests.
Oliver glanced at me from across the room, and his smile fell a notch.
Yeah. This was going to be awkward more than just once.
Calvin and Monty were just as oblivious as Hunter, and before I could talk my way out of it, I was sitting on the edge of the patio at a bigger table, facing Oliver. The night was cooling down, and a soft breeze picked up. Hunter brought Calvin a blanket.
“Where’s Barclay, huh?” he asked as he put the blanket over Calvin’s shoulders.
“On his way. He wanted to finish something at the woodshop, and I wanted to meet with Oliver.”
Oliver grinned at Calvin, and it felt as if he was studiously avoiding looking at me. Or maybe I was reading too much into it. I was relieved the breeze came from the side, and I couldn’tsmell him. Instead, the scent of the forest and barbecue filled my nose.
“Oliver, so you’ll be working for this old grouch starting Monday,” Monty said, and slapped my shoulder.
Oliver’s eyes flickered my way, but only for a split second. Did I imagine the faint blush on his cheeks? His smile looked calm and confident.
“Actually, I’ll be working for all of you, trying to keep Beauville as prosperous as it was when Mr. Hughes was in charge of the budget.”
It was a diplomatic reply worthy of a seasoned politician. But I knew Oliver was sharp as hell.
“We won’t mind if you can make it more prosperous,” Monty said, winking. “Nothing bad about Hughes. He’s a good man. But we need young folks with fresh ideas, isn’t that right, Frey?”
“Sure.” I swallowed more beer.
Oliver looked at me, a challenge in his gaze. The beer felt suddenly too fizzy and heavy in my stomach. I put the glass down, watching the bubbles on the surface.
“I have a few ideas,” Oliver said, “but we’ll see what the council says.”
“The poor guy hasn’t even started yet,” Hunter said. “Leave him be.”
Monty made a dismissive sound. “Bah, he’s fine. We’re just chatting, aren’t we? Hey, Oliver, did you find a boyfriend in college? Should we prepare for some classy city slicker moving into town?”
I looked up. Oliver took a sip from his drink and swallowed before replying, “No.”
Was that all he was going to say? But I didn’t have to press for more, not with Monty right by my side.
“Really? With those pretty eyes of yours and this body? You must have been swatting away alphas like flies.”
Oliver chuckled, shifting uncomfortably. Calvin jumped to his rescue.
“Jeez, Monty, when you say shit like that, nobody wonders whyyouare still single.”
Hunter guffawed, and Monty grunted. “Touché, Cal. Touché. But I’ll remember that.”
Calvin patted his hand. “One day, a pretty omega will walk into this town, your gazes will meet, the sky will open, and angels will sing… And you’ll know he’s the one. When that happens, just don’t say anything. Not a word.”
The entire table burst out laughing.
“I miss the times when you were too afraid of bears to join in on the ribbing,” Monty said, but there was no malice in his tone.
Oliver’s laugh rang above the cacophony of snickers, not louder, just somehow more distinct and melodic. My gaze got stuck on his face, and for a moment, I couldn’t look away.
