Page 1 of Home for Nathan
Chapter
One
“Nathan? Could you check and see if we’re out of tuna salad sandwiches in the deli case? I think we are. If so, make another half a dozen.”
“Sure.” Nathan Barnes nodded, reminding himself that he needed this job, even though Ed knew that tuna made him puke.
And it didn’t matter that he was almost four months pregnant now and showing a little bit, his morning sickness had not given any real signs of abating, because he was lucky that way. There were certain things—tuna salad, sardines, salmon—anything that came from the water—that made him throw up.
But he had a job.
He needed a job because he had a baby coming, and he was starting to show, so it wasn’t like he’d get another job for a year-ish.
He guessed he’d just have to puke, wash his hands, and make more freaking tuna salad sandwiches.
God hated him.
Not only did God hate him, but his ex, the asshole named Don, hated him even more.
Don had accused him of getting pregnant on purpose, which he hadn’t. Nathan had taken birth control, but nothing was a hundred percent, and shit happened. Unfortunately, when one was an omega, and shit happened, the alpha could walk away like it was nothing, and well, Nathan couldn’t…
He went into the back of the Sundrop Natural Grocers and grabbed the tuna, the mayo, the celery, and the spices. Tuna sandwiches, ho.
Thank God he’d known someone here in Secret Springs. He’d met Saul when they were waiting tables together back in the city, and they’d become friends almost immediately.
In fact, Saul had been very much in the same position then that Nathan was in now. Poor guy. Pregnant, alone, with a hostile baby daddy. It sucked hairy donkey balls.
At least Nathan had a safe place to live. Thank goodness for Saul when Nathan had called in hysterical tears with, “I’m pregnant, and Don sucks, and I don’t know what to do, and I don’t need you to do anything for me. I just… I’m only worried.”
Saul had just said, “Well, I’ll tell you what. I have a friend who rents out apartments to omegas who need help. They’re affordable, clean, safe, and you can stay there as long as you need to.”
Nathan didn’t want to think about how long “need to” was going to be, but he was going to be grateful he had a crazy, weird apartment furnished with the wildest stuff. It was kind of like walking into a fantasy novel home—books of every shape and size, artwork ranging from portraits to landscapes to stunning blocks of color. Nothing matched, but it still all worked. It was adorable and welcoming and goofy and apparently every omega who had stayed had left a little of themselves there.
It was just like walking into a real home, and Nathan at least felt safe and wanted. And he had a job and a little car that ran ninety percent of the time. And he didn’t have to drive it becausehe could just walk from the Merchante building, across the courtyard, then down the street, and there was the grocery store.
Thank goodness, too, that he had retail experience. Ed had just said, “Yes, we’d love to have you,” when he’d applied for the job.
Now, if it wasn’t for the tuna fish…
Nathan took a deep breath in, then let it out—smell the roses, blow out the candleas his old yoga teacher would have said—before he started opening tuna cans. And then he had to run for the bathroom as soon as he cracked one lid.
“Ugh.” He washed up when he was done, sighing as he headed back to work. Too bad the bathroom was like, a mile from the deli counter.
He needed a clothespin for his nose.
Nathan took another deep breath before he got to the tuna, then held it for as long as he could while he drained it out and dumped it into one of the big mixing bowl dealies. He’d chopped a bazillion pounds of celery this morning, so all he had to do was to dump in a few cups. Then the mayo and seasoning. Salt, pepper, garlic, and onion powder.
Ed said people had objected to raw onion in the tuna.
Oh, and the pickle relish. Right.
He had to breathe, and he gagged, trying not to lose it.
“Tuna’s not your favorite, huh?”
Crap. He turned to the deli counter with, he hoped, a smile on his face. His eyes widened, because that might be the most beautiful man he’d ever seen.
Like, ever.
