Page 39 of Taken By the Pack

Grocery store first. Razor, breakfast, maybe a coffee if I’m lucky.

The place is quiet when I step inside, just a few early risers milling around. I grab a basket, head toward the toiletries aisle, and then?—

BAM.

Something solid hits me. Or—someone.

“Shit, sorry,” a voice says, and I look up just as she yanks out an earbud, pushing her cart aside.

Grace.

Gas station girl.

Her hair is swishing over her shoulder, and a long skirt is hugging her waist. She has boots laced up her legs.

She’s gorgeous, and for a second, I forget what I was doing.

She also smells… incredible. She’s in heat.

I look for the telltale marks that indicate she belongs to someone. I don’t see anything. How can that be?

Her eyes flick up, recognition sparking.

“Well, if it isn’t the man from the gas station,” she says, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

And fuck. That smile.

Something shifts in my chest, something too warm, too easy. She remembers me.

“That’s me,” I say, clearing my throat. “Ash.”

“Grace,” she says, even though I already know her name. She tilts her head, eyes sweeping over me like she’s taking stock. “You new in town?”

“Yeah. Just got in a few days ago.”

She moves her cart a bit. “Just visiting?”

“Sticking around for a while,” I say. “Studying the tide pools.”

She raises a brow, intrigued. “Interesting.”

I huff a quiet laugh. “To some people.”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t,” she says, playful. “Just wasn’t expecting that.”

“What were you expecting?”

She shrugs. “Something less… I don’t know. Science-y.”

I smirk. “Should’ve gone with traveling salesman.”

She grins, and there’s something so easy about this. About her.

“Actually,” I say, shifting my basket, “I was thinking of finding a place. A house. Staying in a motel for six months doesn’t sound great.”

“Probably not,” she agrees. “You need a real estate agent?”

“Or something.”

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