Page 3 of Ghost of a Chance
It wasn’t an irrational fear, although Lionel was absolutely petrified of anything that went bump in the night. It wasn’t that he was scared of the dark exactly, although he preferred leaving a light on when he was asleep.
But he was used to spending his night time hours out and about with friends. He was barely ever home. Crowded social scenes, with drinking and food and all the fun stuff, were made easier when there were plenty of lights on. And if he was getting frisky with some willing company… Well, he wasn’t on his own then.
The thought of spending any amount of time with barely a flashlight for company, going round in dank and dirty buildings or worse…basements. Just thinking about the word had the hairs rising on the back of Lionel’s neck.There’re probably rats, spiders, lizards…
“This is not going to go well. I’m not going.” He pulled his phone back out of his pocket. “I’ll text Morty… No, I’ll text Hector. Morty might be emotional, but Hector would understand. I’ll just tell him… I’ll tell him…”
The problem was, Lionel couldn’t think of anything that he could say that wouldn’t be a lie. Hector had given him the tickets two weeks before. At the time, Lionel hadn’t worried about it too much, because he thought Ian was coming along.
Only now I have to go and face my worst fear, and I’m not going to know anybody there.Morty had mentioned that their construction foreman, Brad, was apparently going along. It was how Morty and Hector had heard about the event.
The problem was, Lionel hadn’t had a chance to meet him yet, but he figured if the man was in construction, there was a good chance he was built like a brick shithouse and would probably spend the evening getting drunk and making fun of anyone who squealed with nerves. The last thing Lionel wanted to do was make a fool of himself in front of somebody like that.
I can’t do it. I just can’t go. Lionel pulled up his messages. There was one sitting there, unread, from Morty. He clicked on it.
I know you’re going to have a wonderful time tonight. Come around to the bakery tomorrow and tell us all about it. I’ll make your favorite éclairs. I’m so excited to hear all about it.
Lionel groaned.
I can’t do this.
I can’t do this.
I just can’t.
The memories of why came unbidden. There had been a time, Lionel hadn’t been very old, probably four or five, and like any ambitious and cocky lion cub, he’d wandered off from the pride, keen to strike out and find adventure. What he’d found was a disused well. He’d fallen down it. It had taken hours of him calling, crying, and screaming before anyone had found him. Hours of being cold and scared, sitting in the dark—alone. Except there had been cobwebs and spiders. Things crawling in the darkness. At one point, he was sure he could hear rats, and just before the pride found him, a huge lizard had crawled right over his foot. By the time he was found, Lionel was paralyzed with fear.
Cut it out,Lionel told himself sternly, standing up. He was going to an event. There were going to be plenty of other people around, and it’s not as though the event organizer could afford to have people wandering around without adequate lighting. That would be a health and safety violation, for sure.
“It’s going to be fine. They’ll have lights. Lots and lots of lights.” Even so, as Lionel picked up his keys and made his way out of the house, he decided to stop at the gas station and pick up a flashlight and some extra batteries, just in case.You can never have too many lights.
Chapter Two
Brad
Another passing look in the mirror caused Brad—not Bradley, only his mother called him that—to groan and stay right where he was, despite his need to get a shifty on. The mop of blond curls he sported, no matter what product he used, nothing made them any less unruly. They had a mind of their own and liked to spring into spirals, like now, giving his pretty features more of a frame to highlight the softness of his cheeks and full lips.
Not that he didn’t like his appearance, because he did. It just made it a whole lot harder to get anyone to take him seriously.Alphas just saw him as a plaything, cute with no smarts. Totally the wrong impression. Yes, he was utterly adorable, except his brain was as sharp as a tack. His father would never have appointed him as foreperson in their building firm otherwise. His father was no fool, having built his business by sweating it out on the building sites along with his men. Much the same as Brad did now.
If Brad had one wish, it was that he’d taken after his father’s wolf and not his mother’s poodle. Being a poodle meant the difficulty he was having with his hair was all its fault. Its hair grew so fast that Brad had to get it clipped at the groomers on a monthly basis, otherwise, when he shifted, which he liked to do often, he was an ungodly tangle of curly fur. Not a good look for a poodle at all, he could verify.
Unfortunately, he’d missed his last appointment thanks to the new job he’d taken on. Morty and Hector were a sweet couple. Morty, a meerkat, was pregnant and needed his living space sorted for when the baby arrived. Brad had given his word to Hector that he’d have the work completed on time.
The renovations were threefold, and it was time consuming to keep on top of everything. They were converting two apartments, turning them into one at the top of the four-story building. At the same time, Brad’s crew was converting a huge basement to create two new apartments for the co-owners of the bakery, Niall and Toby, while leaving the bakery itself untouched in the middle of the renovations. He’d met Niall and Toby, both sweet guys.
Although he’d confess, not as sweet as Hector, who had bought the entire building so he could keep his mate happy by gifting his friends a home each.
If Hector wasn’t already spoken for, Brad could most definitely see the appeal of someone who had such a generous soul toward the friendships of his mate.
He played with the curls for another minute before finally deciding it didn’t matter they were corkscrewing all over the place, when the night was going to be spent in dark places hunting for ghosts. A wide grin spread making his dimples appear, giving him a cutesy look that added to the cute factor he tried hard to steer clear of most of the time, especially while working. Folks in the building industry were very opinionated about men who looked like Brad.
As an omega, he was small in stature, like his teacup poodle. The work he did gave him a lean, muscular frame, something he’d sadly lacked as a teen. He no longer resembled the pimply, super skinny teenager, thankfully. Years of working on building sites had fixed that. When Brad dressed now, he chose clothes that showed off his muscles as much as possible.
For the night out, he’d chosen a pair of black slim-legged slacks that showed off his pert ass. He’d paired it was a fitted white shirt that highlighted his tanned skin, which gave him a healthy glow from being outdoors a lot. His boots were sturdy enough that it wouldn’t matter where they had to trample. He picked up his leather jacket, collecting wallet and phone, and then pocketed them after reading the instructions that said the places they were going could be damp and chilly.
He grinned with excitement for a spooky night’s entertainment. He had high hopes for the evening. And yes, he’d gotten more than a little giddy at finding out that Morty and Hector, who were true mates, had met at a Bucket List Buddies event. It wasn’t like he was pinning his hopes on finding his mate tonight; he wasn’t—maybe a smidge—it was about meeting people that weren’t connected to the building world Brad spent most of his time in.
He liked the guys he worked with, he just didn’t want to date any of them. And with how much time he spent with them, theywere more like family the way they ribbed him, which just made considering dating anyone of them icky.
