Page 30 of The Feral Alpha
At that, Rex looked halfway between annoyed and satisfied. “Olson come. Come hard. Knot. Olson like knot.”
Olson shoved his hand over Rex’s mouth. “No talking about sex when we’re in there. Or I’ll send you home, and you won’t see me for hours.”
Rex scowled.
“This business is important to me,” Olson said more gently. “And you don’t want other alphas thinking about me having sex, do you? Or they’ll try to steal me away from you. Not that I can be stolen, but it will be very uncomfortable for me when they try.”
Rex’s scowl deepened. “No mate talk.”
“There we go. Thank you.” Olson squeezed his hand, leading him through the backdoor into the building.
“Big O! You’re late! Did you get your bouncy butt filled again—?” Emmy sidled into view with his baby strapped to his chest, his eyes going wide. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Oooh, you did! Is your butt hurting? Do you need more butt blessings?”
Olson cringed. “We are not talking about my private life right now.”
Emmy looked pointedly at him and skedaddled, but Olson knew better than to believe the conversation had ended.
“Rex,” Olson said, bumping into that alpha when he turned.
Rex was standing close, almost pressed up against Olson like a shadow.
“I need you to stay in one place instead of sticking this close to me,” Olson said, leading him to the back office. “When I work, I move around a lot, which means I’m probably going to trip over you. I don’t want that. So. Either you stay in here—” he opened the door to show Rex the tiny room, with hardly any walking space around its desk and couch “—or you sit at the bar.”
He led Rex to the bar, giving Rex time to look around.
The Wine Shack had a large glass storefront facing the street, and several tables and booths filling the place. The bar was tucked to one side. Toward the back was a small stage with a piano; Landon played every evening save for Friday and Saturday nights, when a live band would come in instead.
It was daytime now, though. Lunch hour was a quiet thing, where regulars came in for food and drinks. Olson wasn’t sure Rex would want to stay around when night fell, and the music volume went up significantly.
“I mix drinks here,” he said, showing Rex the bar. “There’s only space for two employees back here, so it’ll be easier for me if you sit in this corner. Don’t start fights with the customers. Even if you don’t like the way they speak to me.”
At the back of his mind, he hoped he was making the right decision. The bar customers could get out of hand sometimes, and Olson didn’t send them away unless they crossed one of his hard boundaries.
He led Rex to the very last stool and made him sit there. “Want a drink? Food?”
Rex looked at the rows of glassware behind the bar, then raked his gaze up and down Olson’s fitting shirt and pants. “Want Olson.”
Olson huffed, biting down his smile. “Nope. No one touches me while I’m pouring drinks. Not even you.”
Derek walked by just then, heading into the kitchen. He raised an eyebrow.
“None of your business,” Olson said.
“Might become our business if he’s sticking around for a while,” Derek replied.
Olson sighed. “I’ll be the first line of damage control with him.”
Derek nodded. “Good luck.”
Olson set down a full glass in front of Rex. “That’s water. I’ll get Aaren to make you a burger.”
“Eat?” Rex tilted his head.
“For you, yes.”
“Olson eat?”
Olson cracked a smile. “I usually skip breakfast, and you made me eat that chicken.”