Page 3 of Home for Nathan
A giggle escaped him, a high, silly sound. “I think it’s an it-is-what-it-is thing, too. I don’t miss him.”
Zion watched him carefully. “What’s your name?”
“Um. Nathan. Nathan Barnes.”
“Well, Nathan. If I promise not to make it tuna fish, would you like to go out to supper this weekend? I’m going to try out that Fuel place.”
His brain started to rabbit on him. He was at work. Was this appropriate? Did he want to go on a date with another alpha? He was pregnant. Had Zion noticed? Zion was famous! What could Zion possibly want with a guy like him? And was this a pity invite? Did it matter?
“I would love that,” his mouth said, completely independent of his brain.
“Excellent. Can we exchange numbers? I can give you some references if you want. That I’m not a scary stalker weirdo, you know?”
“Oh, I think I know more about you than you do me.” He wrapped up the turkey so he could hand it over. “You ready?”
Zion tugged out his phone. “I am.”
He rattled off his number, and seconds later, his phone buzzed with a text.
“There’s mine. Is Saturday night good?”
“It is if it’s after five thirty.”
“Perfect. I’ll text when I know I have a reservation.”
“Okay.” He was blushing again. He could feel it.
“Thanks for the sandwich stuff.” Zion winked, and he just nodded and waved and watched as the man sauntered off.
He had a date. With Zion McKellan. That was wild.
He just hoped it wasn’t a huge mistake.
Chapter
Two
Zion wandered down Main Street in Secret Springs, window shopping and learning the sights and sounds. He really liked the vibe of the place, and he thought it was going to be the perfect base for what he had in mind.
Which, partly, was to get out of the big tourist areas like Aspen, and the big cities like Denver. He was a mountain boy at heart but not crowded mountains.
It was time to go back to his roots, so to speak. But he wanted to settle someplace less conservative than Steamboat Springs, which was where he came from originally.
He saw a sign that said “Clinton’s Crapitorium”, and he had to wander in there, because it looked like a wondrous collection of antiques, vintage stuff, and junque. With a fancy script QUE.
A bell over the door tinkled when he walked in, and he glanced around, wanting to rub his hands together with glee. This was worth digging through.
He stepped to one side so the door was clear, and so he could plan his path of attack. And then a solid, warm weight settled against his legs, making him grunt and glance down. A stocky hound dog, maybe a beagle or basset hound mix, was leaning on him, staring at him with soulful brown eyes.
“Hey, bud. Are you the shop dog?” He leaned down to rub those silky ears.
“He is.” A smiling mom-aged lady came out from the back. “That’s Winston.”
“Hey, Winston. That’s a superlative name.”
“Thanks. I’m Carrie. Just browsing?”
Zion grinned. “I am actually getting myself a housewarming present.” And maybe he should get one for his new friend Nathan. Hot little omega friend. Who was pregnant.
