Blue Mountain (Pack 1)

The tension in Simon’s chest loosened in reaction to the easy topic. “The natural vegetation will be really lush in the spring. The flowers that grow here are beautiful and so thick you can barely walk outside without stepping on them. But we can put the herbs in big pots at the base of the porch and outside the back door.”

“Good plan.” Mitch ate a few chips and then picked his sandwich back up and raised it to his mouth while still holding onto Simon with his other hand. After several minutes of comfortable silence, he said, “Simon?”

“Yeah?”

“Why did you bury your mother in Blue Mountain?”

When Simon would have pulled away, Mitch tightened his grip.

“Please don’t close off.” Mitch gentled his hold and slowly rubbed his thumb back and forth over Simon’s wrist. “It’s something I’ve wondered about. You told me the two of you moved from place to place and never stayed anywhere for long, so I thought she passed during one of your trips and you happened to be here.” He paused and looked at Simon meaningfully, clearly waiting for him to respond.

Simon remained quiet.

“But that’s not what happened, is it?”

Simon managed to keep his head up and meet Mitch’s gaze, but speaking was beyond him.

“You just described the Blue Mountain plant life in the spring, so I know this isn’t your first trip here.” Mitch looked at Simon and waited, his expression open and calm.

“We used to live here,” Simon eventually said, confused and yet relieved by his admission. He’d been finding it increasingly difficult to keep anything from Mitch—his history, his control, his body. And he’d reached the point where he thought telling Mitch everything would be less stressful than struggling to keep his past hidden. With a sigh, Simon turned his head and looked out the window above the sink. “Blue Mountain was my birth pack.”

It was information Simon already should have shared. Mitch wasn’t a talkative man, but in the three weeks they’d spent together, he’d told Simon about his childhood, his job, and how he’d ended up at Blue Mountain. It was Simon’s turn.

“When puberty hit, people realized I was an Omega and”—Simon gulped—“they realized the other thing too.”

Nodding, Mitch said, “All those hormones at that age change our scents. That’s when most people realize they’re Alphas or Omegas and”—he grinned—“the other thing. Or maybe it’s better to say it’s when people realize it about others. I knew I was gay long before puberty.”

“You did?” Simon asked in surprise.

“Yup.” Mitch dipped his head, the smile still on his face. “Freddy noticed girls, and I noticed boys. That’s how it always was.”

Simon ground his teeth together and frowned.

“What?” Mitch said.

“Nothing,” Simon bit out.

“You’re tense all of a sudden.”

“I’m not tense.”

“Then what’s with that line between your eyebrows?”

“What line?”

Mitch raised his free hand and moved one finger between Simon’s eyebrows. “This line.” He inhaled deeply and then widened his eyes.

“What?” Simon said. When Mitch didn’t immediately respond, Simon repeated himself with a raised voice. “You scented me. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I promised to follow your words and only your words. No other senses.”

Simon rolled his eyes. “I’m using my words to call off that silly rule.”

“You didn’t think it was silly when we agreed to it.”

“I was scared then and I didn’t fully realize how much you used those senses. Quit changing the subject.”

“And now?”

“Now?”

“You said you were scared then,” Mitch explained. “What about now?”

“I trust you.”

Mitch beamed. “Your scent told me you were mad.”

Simon snorted.

“But you know how it is with some emotions. They’re close enough to each other that it’s hard to tell them apart.” One side of Mitch’s lips curved up along with one eyebrow, his expression devilish. “For example, anger and jealousy are almost impossible to distinguish by scent. By sight too. I need to rely on context for that.”

“I wasn’t jealous,” Simon lied. He yanked his hand out of Mitch’s grip and crossed his arms over his chest. “And if I was, it wouldn’t be nice of you to be happy about it.”

“Can’t help it.” Mitch slid out of the chair and knelt on the floor next to Simon’s feet. “You wouldn’t be jealous of me noticing boys when I was kid unless you don’t want me to notice anyone but you. And you wouldn’t want that if you weren’t interested in me.”

Simon’s neck and cheeks felt as if they caught on fire. “Get up. You’re an Alpha.”

“So?”

“Alphas don’t get on their knees for Omegas.”

“That’s true. But you’re my mate.” Mitch’s already deep voice went husky. “I’d crawl for you, pup.”

“Nobody’s crawling for anyone.” Simon fidgeted uncomfortably.

“Are you interested in me, Simon? Because I’m really interested in you.”

Simon bit his lower lip and swallowed hard. “What does that mean?”

Mitch tipped his head to the side in question.

“What does interested mean? What exactly are you interested in getting from me?”