Page 21 of Ghost of a Chance
Morty had a meltdown with his ovens not working. Not pleasant to witness when he had to attempt to keep him calm as Niall was busy meeting with someone about marketing off-site, and the café was full of lunchtime customers, so Toby couldn’t help. This had made everything take a back seat, and of course, Dad had then rung to remind him about tonight and ask what he wanted for dinner.
Caught off guard, Brad hadn’t mentioned Lionel, and now he considered whether he should have invited his mate along. Except it really was a business meeting, and Brad was sure Lionel wouldn’t be interested in listening to him talk about building projects.
You should have asked him.
Out the door of his home, barely having taken the time to shower and change, Brad huffed, pressing the fob to open his truck, climbing in and stacking the files on the passenger seat.You want to bore our mate to death? Because that’s what would happen when Dad starts waxing lyrical about building materials and comparative prices.
He's our mate, he’d love it.
You’re delusional.
He drove, humming along to the country music radio station.Would Lionel be up for a late visitor?They hadn’t mentioned seeing each other tonight. Brad knew it was possibly his fault as he’d gotten distracted, then was in a rush to get to work. Did mates automatically spend all their free time together?
Absentmindedly, he rubbed at the low thrumming ache he’d had in the center of his chest since he’d left Lionel. He’d been conscious of it all day, just there, a reminder that something was missing. Only it wasn’t missing… more letting him know he was different.
He should have asked Morty how he and Hector had worked things out. Tomorrow, he was going to do that.
Just ask Lionel.
It’s not that simple.
Seriously, how can you and I be connected? Of course, it’s that simple.
He pretended not to hear the snort, and he made a rude noise while pulling up into the driveway of his childhood home. The place sat back on a couple of acres of land Dad had bought when he’d met Mom, his mate. The house had expanded over the years. Dad brought home his work and used their home to try out different things that were new in the building trade, which gave them a house that was wood, concrete, glass, and lots of different sections. To the eye, it was a hodge-podge, but to Brad, it was home.
The door opened before he was barely out of the truck to reveal Dad. Bushy hair hung around a craggy face that revealed his love of being outdoors. He stood over six feet and had an impressive stature that belied his age. Dressed in his old corduroy trousers that were worn at the knees and ass and a checked shirt also worn in places, Brad grinned at the familiarity of it. “Mom hasn’t managed to get those clothes into the trash bag yet?”
Booming laughter came with a gleam of teeth in the full beard Dad grew in the winter. “She might get them in there, but I’m wily, son and know her game, so I root them right back out.”
Brad chuckled as he retrieved the stack of files, using his backside to close the door, then headed up the Monoblock drive. “She’ll manage it one day, Dad.”
He shrugged his massive shoulders, wearing an unrepentant smile, and reached for what Brad held. His nose twitched, and Brad knew the millisecond Dad twigged he’d found his mate.
Shrewd eyes narrowed on the collar of Brad’s jacket where the bite mark remained hidden. Brad couldn’t say why he’d done that. “Why… what’s this?” Dad's gaze travelled back to the empty truck, and a frown furrowed his brow. “You’ve a mate, where are they?”
“Mate… what am I missing?” Mom appeared wide-eyed at Dad’s side. There was nothing wrong with her hearing despite how often Dad complained she couldn’t hear him.
Selective was what Mom was.
“I… yes,” Brad blushed at how both parents were staring at him. “I haven’t mentioned it to anyone else before you start, and it only happened last night.” Did he sound defensive?
Brad wasn’t sure if Lionel wanted him to go telling folks, beyond his parents, when he’d mentioned his mother was traveling. Would he want Brad telling all and sundry without Lionel telling his family first? No one liked to hear something second or third-hand, did they?
Brad surely didn’t want that for his parents, and Dad remained connected to the crews who worked with Brad. So, for him, it was understandable to say nothing until he’d spoken with his parents. And why he’d chosen to ignore the pointed looks he’d gotten all day from his crew. His scent would have alerted them to the change. He’d worn a high-neck T-shirt that hid his mate mark so no one could openly question him.
He handed off the files when Dad remained staring at him, hand outstretched. “If you let me through the door, I’ll answer all your questions, okay.”
Mom was the first to react, and Brad became worried about how Dad was acting. “Where did you meet your mate?” She took his elbow and guided him past Dad, who clutched the files he’d taken.
Brad glanced back over his shoulder and didn’t miss that Dad hadn’t moved.
“Charlie, shut the door, you’re letting all the hot air out.”
There was the sound of the door closing as Brad reached the kitchen and he was guided to a seat at the center aisle he’d fitted when they’d renovated the kitchen the year before. The marble gleamed in the overhead copper lights. The scent of fresh herbs brought back childhood memories of the many experiments Mom loved to do with herbs in meals. Some more successful than others.
Today, he caught rosemary and basil, which meant one thing: they were having the crusted lamb he loved and suggested for dinner when he’d spoken to Dad earlier. His mouth watered in anticipation despite the ball of anxiety growing in the pit of his stomach when Dad didn’t appear while Mom fussed around, getting him a beer.
“Your dad is just worried for you,” she murmured quietly as she placed the beer next to the glass that was laid next to his place setting.
