Shifting Perspectives: Book 1: Oliver & Angus - 1 Shifting Perspectives Book One: Oliver and Angus by Nerine Petros Dedication: I can write a book, but that doesn’t mean you’ll ever get to read it. For that to happen, three people need to be thanked. First is Cameron Dane, thanks for the inspiration and the support. Second is Kate, my editor, for not strangling me via e-mail and for answering every single question, no matter how mundane. Third, to my angel, who kept the kids out of my hair long enough for me to put fingers to keypad in the first place. Chapter One Oliver, and don't dare call him Olli, strolled through the center of town, returning to work after an afternoon at the hairdresser. Oliver thought to himself it was a good thing his mother owned the place, because otherwise monthly maintenance could have become quite expensive. Not many males would have been caught leaving that place at any time of day, but Oliver took pride in his appearance. Being the token gay man in the small, outback town wasn't easy. It was his looks alone that allowed him to survive without becoming fodder for the masses. Well, his looks and maybe his ability to tear to shreds even the smartest man or woman in town for just daring to look at him sideways, let alone actually managing a comment. You didn't get to be gay at his age and live in a remote, rural community without being a tough old codger -- at least on the inside, because there was no way anyone Shifting Perspectives: Book 1: Oliver & Angus - 2 would have said the buttery-soft skin still gracing Oliver's features at the age of twenty-seven was tough or old. Add in a touch of light caramel skin tone without the need for a suntan, thanks to his mother's Greek heritage, and you had one hell of a little package. Oliver's size and appearance had worked in his favor on more than one occasion; people often underestimated the smaller man. Unfortunately, it also made for a lonely existence, women envious of his looks and men scared of them, especially after he made his orientation well known. Oh, no one was mean, but all of the farmers were now very careful about not appearing to be too nice. Apart from Jacey. Thank God for Jacey. But there was no way Jacey would be anything but his close friend. It would have been nice to be wanted, but looking at the way things were now, the chances were slim. Lost in his own thoughts, Oliver didn't remember any of the walk back to the butchery he owned and loved. It was win-win situation as far as Oliver was concerned -- the farmers kept him stocked with first-rate meat straight off the farm, and Oliver in turn kept them stocked in the freshest, highest quality cuts you could find within a two days' drive. It also provided Oliver with plenty of delicious eye candy. Men with a light sheen of sweat over their skin, a little dusty and sun-kissed, flushed from hours of hard work in the sun, rolling with muscles only developed through hard work. Shifting Perspectives: Book 1: Oliver & Angus - 3 Oliver might never have remembered the walk back to the butcher shop, but he would always remember walking through the front shop door. Jacey, his shop assistant, was falling all over himself trying to catch the seemingly uninterested attention of a heart-stoppingly attractive man standing in front of the counter. Jacey's behavior was particularly odd because he was normally so grounded and down to earth. Regardless of how fine this man was, there were also some pretty fine farmers round these parts, and Jacey had never shown the slightest fluster around any of them. Nor any other male. As far as Oliver knew, Jacey was straight as they came. Just when a stutter started to present itself, Oliver strolled forward into the man's line of sight, although he couldn't shake the feeling this man had always known he was there, even before Oliver walked through the door. Oliver never discounted his feelings; they'd kept him alive so far, and given who and what he hung out with, that was saying something. Holding his hand out in front of him in the universal sign of friendship, Oliver strode forward. "Nice to meet you, the name's Oliver. I'm the butcher. This here is Jacey, but we all call him Jack. It helps him deal with being named after his birth nurse." "Call me Jack and you're dead where you stand," came the trained, automatic response from Jacey as the stranger raised his own hand and shook Oliver's briefly. Aaah, it was good to know some things were reliable at least, but Jacey still looked a little shell shocked. Shifting Perspectives: Book 1: Oliver & Angus - 4 "It's good to meet you, I'm Fynn. My family and I are new to the area. I've come to town on a scouting mission, and I guess meat is usually the first port of call for any hungry Waangoo." The man responded in a wonderfully deep Australian accent, the type that could only be earned by being born and bred right here. Oliver knew some Aboriginal dialect, but the word "Waangoo" eluded him. Oh, well, there were more important things to worry about if he had a shot at staying ahead of the gossip. "So, if you're new in town, does that mean you and yours have moved in down on the old Doolan lot?" Oliver asked. Anything else meant that new land was being developed, and that hadn't happened out this way since before his mama's papa was born. "Yeah, we're starting to fix it up. We have a little over a quarter finished. It's enough for me and my three brothers to be comfortable," Fynn responded. Hoowee, Oliver bet that had made old Beryl at the local real estate office real happy-like. Beryl had been trying to move that property since the time of the dinosaurs. Rumor had it old man Doolan had been a mean so and so; no one had wanted to even think of taking it on after he passed when Oliver's mama was a little girl. It had long since fallen into disrepair after being the local party hangout for the high schoolers for years, as well as that mythical haunted house for just as long for the grade schoolers. Oliver hadn't heard any rumors around town, which meant either it had all happened very quickly, or the rest Shifting Perspectives: Book 1: Oliver & Angus - 5 of the town was dead from the shock. Usually people were trying to get out of this place, not looking to settle in. He was sure it wouldn't be long before the gossips were beating a path to his door, though. Speak of the devil, Oliver thought, as Patrice walked in from the post office across the way. It may have been a little unkind to think of her that way, but Patrice was the biggest gossip in town, and at only twenty-four, that was quite a feat. Starting to speak before she was even inside the shop, Patrice started with "Oh, my goodness! Lordy Lord, have you heard, Olli? Beryl was just in, and I swear, going on and on about the new blood in town, and how they look dangerous, and have you heard..." Patrice finally looked up, and stopped short at the sight of Fynn standing in the middle of Oliver's shop. "Hi, Patty, how you doin'? Have you met one of our newest residents?" Oliver asked with unholy glee. "This here is Fynn." Precious Patrice had been on his back about one thing or the other since she had "found the Lord" in the ninth grade. Oliver had no problem with organized religion; he had his own thoughts on how Jesus would have picked his chosen ones was all. In his own mind, if the Bible was to be believed, Jesus had love and acceptance for all. The other thing Oliver couldn't get his mind around was if God was his creator, why would He have created him with attraction to other males ingrained in his DNA if it was supposedly so wrong? Shifting Perspectives: Book 1: Oliver & Angus - 6 Well, that was a puzzle for another day, because he still had the precious Patrice to deal with, currently glaring holes through the middle of his forehead with her laser- beam eyes for daring to call her Patty. Plus, he was still feeling spiteful for her "Olli," so he let the torture continue. "Yeah, Fynn here has moved into the old Doolan place and is fixing it up," Oliver finished. No need to mention those three other brothers Fynn had been talking about. Patrice sure didn't need help in drumming up church members, and could Oliver really help it if he held even just the slightest amount of hope that at least one of the four brothers might fall into his fraternity of the rainbow flag? Oliver's words caused Patrice to pause, and she spent the next thirty seconds taking a good look at just who had happened to move into their town. Cowboy boots gave way to long, lean, firm legs encased in dusty, work- roughened jeans. The best kind of jeans, the ones that had been worn so much they now knew a body's shape. A chesty Bonds t-shirt finished the ensemble, and with his Stetson in his hands, Fynn completed the picture of a farm-boy pin-up. The change that came over Patrice was astonishing to see. Gone were the anger, the laser-beam stare, and the frown lines, and in moved the simpering southern belle, which was such an oxymoron to see in the Aussie bush that Oliver almost bent over double in laughter. He held himself back just in time to see the look on Fynn's face form into what could almost be termed mistrust. Funny how it had taken Oliver almost half his life to realize Shifting Perspectives: Book 1: Oliver & Angus - 7 what precious Patty was about, but Fynn had her measure in less than thirty seconds. "The pleasure is all mine," claimed Patrice with a flutter, holding out her hand for Fynn. "I'm sure it has been, ma'am," replied Fynn in polite tones, and ignoring her hand, continued, "but I have some business I need to attend to with Jacey, so if you could please excuse us?" Fynn then proceeded to grab Jacey's hand and head to the back of the shop, leaving Oliver with a very confused Patty. Oliver had felt the heat between the two men, but still couldn't help wondering how long it would be before Jacey woke from his trance to realize a man was holding his hand -- and whether Fynn would return with a black eye. "Well, I, I just don't know about that," Patrice murmured, shock on her face. "You can't fault his manners," Oliver responded. "He's a farmer, his hat was off inside, and he refrained from shaking your hand on account of the dirt." Oliver couldn't say why he was giving this woman's pride an out, but immediately after, he was again desperately trying to hold back his laughter. "Yes, yes, of course, that's what it was," Patrice replied, completely ignoring the fact that Fynn had grabbed hold of Jacey's hand without hesitation. Oliver knew that, in her mind, it didn't count. After all, Jacey was male. "I need to get back to work." Shifting Perspectives: Book 1: Oliver & Angus - 8 Her words trailed off, and, apparently deep in thought, Patrice turned around and left the store, the door banging shut with a tinkle of the bell behind her. Oliver could see her through his front window, walking back to the post office. He returned to his own post behind the counter to begin wrapping up for the day. No way was he putting his hair net back on, though, not after the work his mother had just done! Jacey returned to the front of the store a few moments later, again with a shell-shocked look on his face. That was quickly becoming the norm, Oliver thought, and for the next five months, he would go on wondering what had happened in the back room of the shop on that particular afternoon. Fynn also walked into the room with a very satisfied expression on his face and completely ignored Jacey. "Hey, Oliver, we eat a lot of meat, and part of my job is dealing with our day to day requirements food-wise, so you'll be seeing a lot of me from now on. I'd like to place a standing weekly order, if I could?" Fynn requested. "I have no problem with that, as long as I have the stock," Oliver responded. Fynn grinned, revealing a full mouth of perfect, even white teeth, made even starker white by the dark, dark tan nothing but hard work out in the elements could create. "Thanks, mate. Makes my job even easier if I don't have to call once a week with the order for you. I know the boys would live on steaks if they could, but Shifting Perspectives: Book 1: Oliver & Angus - 9 since I'm the cook out at our place, if you could just do us up a whole cow in the standard cuts, and I'll collect each week. Money is no worries, I'll pay for the first cow now, and each week when I collect, I'll pay for the next cow in advance. Sound all right?" "Yeah, sounds fine, mate." That was the only response Oliver's brain could come up with on the fly. He finished the transaction for this week's cow and watched Fynn walk out the door to the beat-up utility vehicle parked out front, only then realizing that he'd never noticed it on his way in. The only other thing Oliver could think of was just who was supposed to tell the current shifter pack that another shifter pack had moved in? Because although Oliver wasn't a shifter himself, growing up around them, there was no way he could miss not only the consumption of an entire cow on a weekly basis, but also Fynn's loose, smooth, rolling gait. Shifting Perspectives: Book 1: Oliver & Angus - 10