Page 25 of The Coyote's Veterinarian Omega

I held up my hands. “Relax, doc. I really doubt it’s even possible.” I was lying through my teeth. If Wyatt could be a human who smelled like an omega, then why would it be impossible for him tobean omega?

Vern eyed me, then cracked an egg into his frying pan. “How do you like your eggs?” he asked.

“Scrambled,” I replied, just as Wyatt came down the stairs. “Morning!”

Wyatt marched—or, rather, limped—into the kitchen and grabbed the mug of coffee out of my hands. He took a big swig of it, then limped to the kitchen table and gingerly lowered himself into ones of the chairs.

“For fuck’s sake, Cameron,” Vern grumped. “Couldn’t you have gone easy on the boy? Ain’t no way he’s gonna be any use to menow. We got calves coming out our ears, and he’s moving like he’s twicemyage.”

“I’m fine,” Wyatt said quietly from the table. His voice was hoarse.

“Christ on a cracker!” Vern cried, then shook his head. The eggs snapped and crackled in the pan, and I quietly poured a second and then a third mug of coffee.

I slid one over to Vern, then took a seat at the table across from Wyatt. Wyatt grimaced as he took another swallow of coffee. “So, uh … how are you?”

For most omegas, heat episodes lasted anywhere from three to five days. But Wyatt didn’t smell like he had last night, which meant either he’d never been in heat—and maybe he wasn’t an omega like I thought—or his heat had broken.

I didn’t really want to contemplate that last possibility, so I sniffed the air as subtly as I could, hoping to catch a whiff of fresh snow.

Wyatt smiled vaguely at me. “I’m fine,” he said again, then cleared his throat. “Really.”

He took another sip of coffee, then grimaced again. I had a sinking feeling as I looked down into my cup.

From the other side of the kitchen, I heard Vern take a big swig of his coffee, followed by the sound of it being spat back into the sink. “Cameron Carlyle!” Vern bellowed. “I asked if you could make a decent cup of coffee! What the hell passes fordecentat Rocky Ridge?!”

Wyatt grimaced once more, then slipped out of the chair. “Never mind,” he said, grabbing the carafe. “I’ll start another pot.”

Vern stalked by him as he made his way to the sink. The vet dropped a plate of bacon and eggs on the table. “You’re lucky,” he said to me, then turned and stalked back across the room.

And, looking at Wyatt, I did feel lucky.

It wasn’t long after breakfast that it became apparent I’d worn out my welcome. Wyatt was insisting he was fine, and Vern was glowering at me from the dining room, where he was packing his medical equipment into a bag.

“Are yousure?” I asked Wyatt for what felt like the millionth time. I’d been trying to wrangle out of him whether or not he was still in heat, but he wasn’t picking up any of my hints.

He rolled his eyes in exasperation. “I. Am. Fine,” he said in a tone that could have frozen the town’s namesake creek over in the middle of July. “I don’t need you asking me half-a-dozen times. If I say I’m fine, believe me.”

I huffed, then shot another look at Vern. “Right. Well.” I sucked in another breath. “Guess I’ll be off then.”

Vern took that as his cue. “Probably for the best,” he said in an easy-going way, like he hadn’t just been trying to make me spontaneously combust. “We’re headed out for the day.”

“The day?” I didn’t like that. Wyatt was an omega in heat, or just recovering from the shortest heat episode ever, but the point was that he needed torest.

“Yup,” Vern agreed. “No idea when we’ll be back. Could be midnight, for all I know.”

I could feel my lips curling back, my metaphorical hackles rising. Vern must have known he was getting my goat, because he just grinned. “Can’t rush Mother Nature.”

“No,” I growled, “I guess you can’t.”

Vern started not-so-subtly herding me toward the door. “Been real nice seeing ya, Cameron,” he said, still in that conversational tone. “Let’s keep the visits infrequent.”

I wanted to snap at him—how could I possibly keep to infrequent visits if mymatewas living in his house? But I knew I’d sound ridiculous.

Wyatt wasn’t my mate. Hell, nobody was even sure he was anomega. At the best, we were maybe something like friends with benefits. At worst, I was a one-night stand he was never going to speak to again, and we’d have to go to great lengths to avoid each other at the grocery store or otherwise risk awkwardly trying to make small talk in the produce aisle while trying not to remember what the other person looked like naked.

Christ, I didn’t think I could go through that again. I’d been so relieved when Holly Blackwood moved out of town to go to college. Never having to see her again was a blessing.

Vern all but shoved me outside. “See ya around,” he said with a faux smile and a wave. Then he drew back, letting the screen door slam shut.