Page 38 of Cold Moon

Even if he didn’t want to be more than friends, or even be friends, if I could help solve this, my effect on his life would be generally positive.

Sort of.

Hopefully.

“So, you’re saying it’s not dietary?” Barbara asked.

I groaned again. “No. Maybe. I don’t know.”

“Apples have any other qualities you want to consider?” I had no idea how she sounded so calm when I wanted to tear my hair out, but she’d been a mother. She’d lost her daughter to the Condition, and seemed interested in helping me put it all together.

At least, she tolerated it. Ford had stopped coming into the kitchen while I was working.

“Well, the gastrointestinal system is complex. Maybe I’m jumping to conclusions.”

“Or?”

“Well, polyphenols. And apples are high in antioxidants. Both can help with heart health. I guess the Condition affects blood pressure, leads to fainting sometimes. And, uh, acetylcholine is typically higher in people who consume apples regularly. That promotes brain health and memory retention, lowers the risk of Alzheimer’s.”

I was going around in circles, but that was better than staying still. Throwing myself into my work was easier—way more comfortable—than thinking about my place in the Grove pack and how I didn’t really have one. Or worse, how Skye had avoided looking at me the last time I’d seen him.

I’d started eating breakfast at home, not wanting to scare him out of his usual activities or make him think I was stalking him or something. Wide berth, that was the way to go here.

I’d been pacing a few minutes when I realized Barbara was staring at me. “Hon, you’re talking way over my head. But come here, taste this, and tell me if it’s sweet enough.”

Another sigh, and I wandered over to her side, where she held a wooden spoon up to my lips. The jam was bursting with sweetness. I moaned, leaning my hip against the counter.

“That’s incredible.”

Barbara grinned. “I’ll send you home with a jar.” She was always handing me stuff, jars of food or tins of cookies for me to take home. It was sweet, and the farm was becoming the place in Grovetown where I was most comfortable now that I didn’t have the clinic.

At the very least, I didn’t think anyone there hated me.

Outside, gravel crunched under tires, and I heard Alexis bounce off the porch, calling out to his parents.

I raised a brow at Barbara. The Menas were going to stay in the guest room at the farmhouse until they got settled in Grovetown. They used to live beside Ridge’s old family farm, the one Sterling had bought from his parents. It wasn’t safe out there anymore, so they were coming here, and I’d gotten the sense Ridge was kind of nervous about it.

Barbara and Henrik, weirdly, seemed delighted to share their home, and that wasn’t something I was ever going to get used to with this pack. They were just so... generous.

It was weird. Hard to entirely trust.

And damn if I didn’t feel like an asshole for not trusting it.

But Ridge and Ford were out in the barn that afternoon, so Ridge didn’t have to show his face right away. Alexis brought them in, and Mr. Mena held out a grocery bag that was tied up tight.

Still, not tight enough when I considered the toxic chemicals that might be in there, ruining kale or lettuce or whatever leafy green thing he’d plucked out of the farm for me.

“Take it you’re Dante?” he said to me, nodding at the table full of samples. He held the bag away from himself and angled even farther from his wife and son.

I stepped up and took it from him. “Yes, sir. Dante Reid. Pleasure to meet you. Thanks for this.” I lifted the bag a little, then looked to Barbara. “Could I borrow a freezer bag or something?”

A thin plastic grocery bag wasn’t going to do anything to make me feel safe wielding this thing, and even when I’d put it in the freezer bag, I felt tainted holding onto it.

That was all base, unreasonable emotion. Even omegas weren’t affected so quickly, and this idea that I was holding an evil vegetable was, probably, over the top.

Still, I grimaced at Barbara. “I should probably find somewhere safer to work...”

With a wave of her hand, she dismissed me. “Sure. We’ll move you into the barn tomorrow.” She smiled at Alexis and his parents. “I hope you came hungry. Dinner’ll be ready soon. Dante, you put that bag on the porch and help set the table.”

---