Blue Mountain (Pack 1)

“This is weird,” Simon said.

“It’s new.” From the little he knew about Simon, he suspected finding a mate wasn’t the only thing he was adjusting to. He was also living inside a home in a new town. So Mitch understood why the situation had him off balance.

“You’re touching me.”

Mitch nodded and moved his fingers back and forth over Simon’s hip. They were standing close enough that he could feel Simon’s dick rise and push the T-shirt fabric up. Not reacting to that arousal, not reaching for Simon’s cock, not touching the smooth hot skin, was an exercise in torturous restraint, but if his mate needed time, Mitch would give it to him.

“I should start working on the burgers,” Simon said, making no effort to move away.

“Simon?” Mitch leaned down until their faces were inches apart.

“Yeah?” Simon parted his lips and flared his nostrils.

“You’re beautiful.”

Those pretty green eyes widened, and Simon’s breath came out in fast pants. “I don’t know how to respond to that.”

“That’s okay.” Mitch hunched down and leaned his forehead against Simon’s. “I just wanted you to know I noticed.”

They stood together, breathing in unison but not speaking. The moment was undeniably intimate, more so than anything Mitch had previously experienced despite not being overtly sexual and them both being clothed.

“Mitch!” Freddy’s voice filtered into the house.

Simon jerked and said, “Who’s that?”

“My brother. He’s yelling because he knows not to come in here.” Mitch took a deep breath to draw in Simon’s scent and said, “I’ll be right back.”

He hustled out of the house, wanting to get Simon’s things and go back inside. Simon had promised to stay, but leaving him alone for too long was risky. He was still twitchy and nervous about being around shifters, especially the pack Alpha. There had to be a reason for that, a history, and Mitch would find out what it was. He’d learn everything about his mate.

“Hey,” Frederick said as Mitch stepped out. He held up a well-worn backpack.

“That’s everything?” Mitch walked down the stairs.

“Yup. It was zipped up when I got there.” He handed the backpack to Mitch. “I didn’t touch anything.” He looked at Mitch, his mocha-colored gaze locking with Mitch’s pitch-black one. “And you shouldn’t either.”

Grunting, Mitch reached for the bag and pulled it away from his brother.

“Talking sense into you is like banging my head against the wall,” Frederick said.

“Then stop.”

“Can’t.” Frederick shrugged and grinned. “I love you.”

His brother had always been dramatic.

“How’s it going in there?” Frederick asked as he tipped his chin toward the house.

“Well, he hasn’t yelled at me or tried to hit me for at least half an hour, so”—Mitch shrugged—“compared to last night, it’s going great.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Frederick nodded. “Lack of violence is a good sign. No overt insults too. Did you manage a conversation? Maybe learn something about your mate?”

“You weren’t gone that long,” Mitch said. When Frederick arched his eyebrows, Mitch sighed and said, “It’s not as easy as you think. Simon is…different from other Omegas.”

“Simon?” Frederick smiled and slapped his shoulder. “You got a name? That’s great.”

“It’s about all the information I got, but, yup. Simon.”

“You’re making progress,” Frederick said happily. “That’s good.” He paused for a moment. “What do you mean different?”

“He’s”—Mitch tried to think of the right words—“unexpectedly stubborn.”

“Stubborn, huh?” Frederick’s lips twitched. “I can’t imagine why Mother Nature would bless such a docile man with a stubborn mate.”

“Me?” Mitch asked in surprise. He hadn’t been docile a second of his life.

“I was talking about Simon.”

“He isn’t docile. That’s what I’m telling you.”

“Good point.” Frederick grinned and winked. “Seems you have more in common than we realized. Maybe Mother Nature knew what she was doing when she chose your mate.”

“I never questioned that,” Mitch grumbled.

“No?”

“No.” Mitch looked his brother in the face. “My gut says he’s mine.”

“Your gut’s never steered you wrong, Mitch. You have great instincts. Better than anyone I know.”

Mitch dipped his chin in acknowledgement.

“I’d trust your gut with my life. With my family. With anything. Remember to listen to that gut when you interact with your stubborn mate. Mother Nature may have made you to be together, but you have to choose to follow that path.” His expression turned serious. “Both of you have to choose.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll wear him down.”

“That isn’t exactly the approach I had in mind.”

No, he imagined it wasn’t. Frederick could charm anyone and win them over with his charisma and humor. Mitch didn’t have either of those skills, but he had determination and endurance. He’d wait out his mate’s resistance and be there when Simon decided to stop denying what his soul had to be telling him. And Mitch knew exactly what that was because his core was shouting the same thing at him: Simon was his.

He turned around and stepped toward the door.

“Oh, and Mitch?”

“What?” He twisted his head, looking back over his shoulder.