Shaken and Stirred: M/M Mpreg Alpha Male Romance Read online

  Sam pulled back a little. "Kind of does, actually."

  "You could work here, behind the bar. And that would give us a way to be together." Logan mouthed at Sam's jaw for a second.

  Sam tilted his head back. "You're kidding, right?"

  "Utkin said it would be okay. It wouldn't usually, because I'd technically be your boss, but we'd be going into it knowing exactly what was going on." Logan stepped back and tilted his head to the side. "What's wrong?"

  Sam shook his head. "You think I'd honestly trade a business and a home, both of which I'm part owner of, in order to work for someone else?" He laughed and stroked Logan's face. "Come on, man. Be reasonable."

  Logan frowned and stepped back. "I am being reasonable, Sam. We like each other, there's great chemistry between us. It's a way that we can be together that wouldn't cause problems for anyone."

  Sam grinned. "There is great chemistry between us, you're right. And yeah, there's no way that we can actually be together seriously. But if you take a step back and think about it, I'm pretty sure you'll figure out that no one in his right mind is going to be at all enthusiastic about trading what I already have plus maybe something casual for a chance to be his boss' dirty little secret, you know?"

  Sam stood up from the counter and kissed Logan. It wasn't the most passionate kiss he'd ever bestowed, but there was affection there. He got a dose of Logan's black-tea scent, which he'd been craving for days. It wasn't the kind of up close and personal touch he'd wanted, but under the circumstances he'd take it. "I'll let you think about what I just said," he told Logan, and pulled back. "I really think that casual is probably what works best for us, you know? If we start grasping for some kind of arrangement, we start getting into some pretty convoluted ideas that are only going to piss one or both of us off, and that's not what I want out of this." He caressed Logan's shoulder as he walked away.

  He wouldn't let himself think about what Logan had said as he made his way back to Joe's. He sneaked back upstairs first and changed into something more himself and headed downstairs, where Bruce was hanging around and talking to Silas. They shot the breeze for a little while, Sam made himself a drink, and then he went to bed.

  Only alone and in bed did Sam let himself contemplate what Logan had said—and what he'd implied. Logan had wanted something more with Sam than just a casual fling. He'd seen the idea of hiring Sam as a possible way to pull it off, a way to cover a relationship that would be considered poor judgment by most of his peers. The fact that Logan wanted to be with Sam for longer than it took to get a little bit of lust out of his system made Sam's heart unexpectedly swell with joy.

  At the same time, Sam couldn't say yes to that. It wasn't right. Sam was perfectly content to keep things casual with Logan, for as long as they continued to want one another. The idea of being monogamous, but at the same time being expected to hide his relationship with someone, made everything in him rebel. If he was going to be expected to commit to someone, to make the kind of emotional investment in a guy that Logan's little arrangement implied, then he should be able to expect a claim.

  He'd never thought much about getting claimed before. It happened, and it was a normal part of omega life, but he'd never considered it as part of his life. He didn't need an alpha; he had his brother for everything but the sex. If a guy wanted him to commit, though, he had enough respect for himself and for Silas to demand that he receive a commitment in return. He wanted to be able to show that claim scar. He wanted to be able to walk around with his alpha, and to have him be present at family events. He wanted to be able to give his kids his alpha's last name.

  He couldn't have that with Logan. Logan liked the tattoos, but only behind closed doors. Logan would only want a mate with a nice, conservative haircut, who lowered his gaze when Logan's boss spoke to him.

  Sam wasn't mad. Logan was what he was, and Sam wasn't going to change that. But Sam also wasn't going to trade his freedom for a leash, either.

  ***

  Logan slept on Sam's words, and he turned them over in his mind for a little while. He was disappointed at first, and maybe a little angry. Sam didn't have the right to expect a claim out of Logan. He just didn't. Their worlds were too far apart, and they just couldn't ever be joined in that kind of way. They could never start a family together or anything like that, and the thought was preposterous.

  He didn't go over to Joe's the next day. He didn't even acknowledge Sam at all. Sam's rejection hurt, and he wanted Sam to know about it. He'd made a valid offer, a generous one, and Sam shouldn't have just turned him down like that. Logan hadn't come up with the idea on the spur of the moment. He'd thought long and hard about it after the seeds had been planted by Utkin. Utkin was a successful guy; maybe he knew something about this kind of thing?

  Kaylee came to him in his office on Friday and told him, point blank, that he was being an ass. "I don't know exactly what you and Sam got up to, or what you said to Sam. But the kid is good, and he deserves better than you treating him like a used tissue."

  Logan glared at her. "His expectations are unreasonable, Kaylee."

  "What expectations?"

  Logan pinched the bridge of his nose and explained the conversation that had passed between himself and Sam on Wednesday night. She listened to him, face calm and body angled toward him, until he stopped.

  "Okay, and then what?"

  "And then what, what?" Logan blinked. "I can't claim him, Kaylee. I couldn't ever… I mean, look at him! He'd never fit in with the other management wives."

  Kaylee sat back and gave him a look that could be best described as frosty. "Okay. We're going to ignore the absolutely disgusting classism in your statement, because I don't think you're ready to hear it. At what point did you hear him say, 'Oh Logan, claim me, make me yours, give me babies and a house and a horse and buggy?'" She pressed her hands to her chest and fluttered her eyelashes at him.

  Logan chuckled in spite of his irritation. "I'd call a priest in if he ever fluttered his eyelashes like that, Kaylee." He didn't think he was classist. For crying out loud, his dad had been a factory worker! "And no. He didn't ask for a claim."

  "So you're the one sitting there and jumping to conclusions." She crossed her arms over her thin chest.

  Logan opened his mouth to argue, but he closed it again. "God damn it. I am an ass, aren't I?"

  "Little bit." The corners of her mouth twitched up. "It sounds to me like he was shooting for casual, not permanent."

  "He was." Logan sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "God, I am such an ass."

  "World class, actually, but we knew that." She unfolded her arms and leaned forward. "The thing is, you're clearly thinking about it, or you wouldn't have jumped to that conclusion. Even if you don't think it's feasible, it's on your mind."

  Logan bit the inside of his cheek. "Don't you have a risotto to go cook or something?"

  "Or something. Are you getting that attached to him?" She stood up, twirling one of her curls around her finger. "He's a good man, Logan. If you love him, don't let him get away."

  "It's not that easy, Kaylee." Logan looked away. Love might be a strong word to use yet. It might not be. Maybe he should start getting used to it. "You can't think he'd be happy outside of that place, outside of Joe's and places like that."

  "I think that you'd hardly be the kind of alpha to try to keep your omega away from things he loved." She narrowed her eyes at him. "But maybe you need to come to your own conclusions about things. You've been saying for years that you're not ready for a claim anyhow, and you've only just met the guy." She got up from her seat and headed out to the kitchen.

  He stared at the wall for a while. He couldn't claim Sam, that wasn't something that he could even consider, but Sam had made it pretty clear that he wasn't expecting it. Logan had jumped to a conclusion that Sam hadn't intended and had made himself angry. He needed to go and apologize to Sam.

  That would have to be delayed. Bruce sent in the photos, which meant that now Loga
n had to liaise with someone from a local ad agency to come up with an ad campaign. That, at least, took him off site and away from the restaurant. They decided on advertising in a handful of local publications, both those aimed at tourists and at locals. Hopefully something would pan out for them. The account executive told him that she'd have proofs on his desk within a week, and he believed her.

  If nothing else, people would show up for Sam. Bruce's camera had really loved him that night.

  When he got back, it was time for the Friday dinner rush. What he hated about the Friday dinner rush was that it could only be called a rush if someone was feeling very generous. They'd had a couple of moments last Saturday when the tables had all been full; that never happened on Friday, or on any other night. If Trattoria Siena was going to be a thriving business, he was going to have to put butts in those empty chairs.

  If they did get those seats filled somehow, they were going to have to find a way to handle the logistical mishaps. That night, two different waitresses dropped fully laden trays of food onto the floor, which was a disaster. Not only did it take twice as long to get orders out to those tables, but the cleanup took time from getting other customers served as well. One nearby customer wound up with a red wine reduction sauce splashed down the leg of her bright white silk trousers. The trattoria would pay for them to be replaced or cleaned, of course, but the poor woman's night had been absolutely ruined. Logan couldn't give her that time back. He couldn't blame it on Jennifer, the waitress, either. Another customer had been having a fight with her dining companion — maybe a date — and slammed her chair back into Jennifer. It was hardly Jennifer's fault, despite whatever White Trouser Woman had tearfully insisted.

  Kaylee got to leave before the night wore on to its inevitable conclusion. She gave Logan a significant look and told Logan that she would see him later, and he didn't have to ask where she was going. He thought about heading home to Portland just to spite her, but opted not to.

  Instead, he slogged his way through the night. He helped to clean up and promised poor Jennifer that she wouldn't have any repercussions from the disaster with the white trousers. He closed out the register and locked up, and then he went next door.

  Unlike the trattoria, Joe's was hopping. It took Logan half an hour to succeed to a bar stool, and even then he had to duck in quick and take the stool next to Kaylee. She glared at him, but didn't make an issue of it. "I should run you off," she told him. "I'm off the clock."

  "So am I," he pointed out. He could feel the tension melting from his body. "Do you think the stain will ever come out of those pants?"

  Sam was right there, pushing a martini across the bar. His eyes were tight and maybe a little wary, but he winked and flashed his trademark smirk. "Red wine and silk? Nah. You're kind of screwed there."

  Logan's jaw dropped, and he lost the ability to speak for a moment. He'd seen Sam naked. Why should a pair of tight jeans be any more appealing than bare legs that went for miles? "Yeah. Yeah, we probably are. Which sucks, because I'm sure she'll tell like fifty of her closest friends on Book Face or whatever about how we deliberately trashed her clothes or whatever, but it can't be helped."

  Sam snorted. "Meh. From what it sounds like, she walked up one side of Jenny and down the other, when it wasn't even poor Jenny's fault."

  "Jenny?" Both Logan and Kaylee stared. Logan had never heard the waitress addressed that way before.

  Sam jerked his thumb over at a leather-clad customer with a handlebar mustache that must have taken years to perfect. "That waitress is Jeff's old lady. I've known her since they were dating."

  Logan laughed and shook his head. "Of course you have. Why didn't I expect that?" He took a generous gulp of his martini. "Look, I'll tell you what I told her. Maybe between the two of you one of you will believe me. What happened wasn't Jennifer's fault, and she's not going to lose anything because of it, okay? Nothing's coming out of her pay, she's not losing any hours. It wasn't her fault."

  "Until that Utkin guy comes along and decides different." Sam leaned forward, like he was going to say something just for Logan and Kaylee's ears, but someone waved him over and he had to go. Logan sighed. He shouldn't forget that Sam was on the clock.

  Sam returned after a moment or two, slipping a few bills into his pocket, and refilled Kaylee's drink. "So. Did the rest of your night go okay?"

  Logan could have opened his mouth and poured out all of the little frustrations that had plagued him, from the time that he'd started until the time that he plopped down onto the barstool. Instead, he looked into Sam's green eyes and everything melted away. "It just got about a thousand times better," he said, and he didn't care who heard him.

  Kaylee squeezed his arm and smiled at him. Sam smiled too, a genuine smile this time, and softened just a little bit. "That's what this place is all about." He glided away again, off to bring beer to another customer.

  Logan hung around until closing time. He helped to clean up at Joe's, too, even though his joints ached and his body groaned. Silas gave him the stink eye the entire time, but Logan didn't care. All he wanted to do was get Sam out of there, maybe out into the alley behind their places and talk to him in private.

  Finally, Silas took Kaylee upstairs. Logan chose not to think about that, but asked Sam if he could talk to him for a second as the part-time waitresses filed away. Sam nodded, because he was that kind of guy, and headed out into the cool, crisp air of a Maine October.

  "What's up?" Sam shuddered in the night air. He hadn't brought a jacket. Logan didn't think that he'd even brought a jacket down, considering that there was a stairwell going right to the bar from an upstairs hallway. He felt kind of bad about keeping Sam out in the cold like this, but he didn't think that Sam would want an audience for this conversation either.

  "I wanted to apologize." Logan swallowed and stuck his hands into his pockets. "I shouldn't have said what I said on Wednesday. It was wrong, it was bizarre and nonsensical, and I'm sorry."

  Sam huffed a little and looked away. "It's okay. No big deal. It was late, you were tired—we can put the whole thing behind us." He winked and held out a hand. "I mean, don't get me wrong. I was having some serious fantasies about that bar."

  Logan's mouth went dry. "You were?"

  "Are you kidding? All that nice, smooth marble?" He threw his head back, exposing the long line of his neck, and laughed. "Come on, man. It's okay."

  "You're not mad? You're okay with keeping things casual between us?"

  Sam's mouth twisted wryly, and a shadow passed behind his eyes. That was probably a trick of the light, though. "I think that's the right solution, don't you? I mean, it's not like you're going to tell that Utkin guy to piss off, go buy a Harley, and move in with me and Silas." He huffed a little.

  Logan had to blink at that. Would Sam really expect his alpha to move in with him and Silas? No alpha would do that, none at all. That just didn't happen. New families needed space. He wasn't going to touch that one with a ten-foot pole, though. It didn't matter, because there wasn't going to be a claim. "And it's not like you're about to take up golf or join the Wives and Omegas Charity Circle."

  Sam's eyebrows drew together. "That's a thing?"

  "Totally a thing. All the district managers and above, their wives and omegas are in it. They meet once a month and organize the wives of the managers in their district." Logan wanted to put his hands on Sam, but he didn't.

  "For real? Do they get paid for that?"

  "Well, no."

  "What if they don't like one another?" Sam rubbed his hands against his arms to warm them up.

  Logan looked down for a second. This was the whole problem. "They all do. They all went to the same schools, mostly introduced their mates to one another."

  "Right." Sam wrinkled his nose. "Sounds dreadful. Plus there's the golfing."

  "You don't golf?" Logan tried to sound surprised. He knew he failed.

  "I went mini golfing once. There's a course around here that's entirely indo
ors, and entirely in the dark. The whole course glows in the dark. In October, they've got guys in vampire suits who jump out at you and try to throw off your game."

  Logan frowned and tried to find some way to respond. "Sounds classy?"

  Sam laughed at him. "It's not supposed to be classy. It's supposed to be silly and make you laugh." He shook his head. "Sometime soon you're going to take a day off from that trattoria, and I'm going to put you on the back of my bike, and we're going to ride around and show you what fun really is, college boy. Make sure they didn't train it out of you at UConn."

  Logan almost jumped. "How did you know where I went to college?"

  "It was on your company website, buddy." Sam shook his head. "Anyway, I'm chilly. I'll see you around, okay?"

  Sam went inside, and Logan watched him go. He wanted to follow. He didn't think that Sam would say no, not after the apology, but he wanted to prove something to both of them. Sure, they were keeping things casual, but it wasn't about the sex. At least, it wasn't just about the sex. It was about Sam and Logan. He could wait.