Page 28 of A Pack of Cozy

"Thank you," I say, wiping my eyes. Why haven't I been able to stop crying since I moved here? I've been thinking about the answer for a while. It's not a sadness that prompts the tears. It's the weight of my past. I've been carrying around an overwhelming tide of low-level distress. It's settled deep within me and taken root. After so long merely surviving and holding every stress in my life by myself, my heart is finally learning to breathe again. My body is expressing its shock in tears, shedding the layers of hurt I didn't know I was still holding onto. In this moment of vulnerability, I realize that the tears aren't just a sign of grief, but a release of the hurt, a way to welcome the possibilities for my future. This new chapter is frightening, yet beautiful.

Winnie's scrubbing a particularly profane word which makes me wince since I've realized that she never even swears. "What about your store?" I ask.

"I closed for the next two hours. It's the off-season. I'm sure I'll miss being open for the one guy in town who needs nails."

They're all doing so much for me.

The Mayor steps up. She's a tall, broad alpha of a woman. About as tall as Seth with golden skin, straight black hair and almond shaped eyes. She extends her hand, introducing herself. "I don't think we've officially met. I'm Mayor Hana Liu. This is my husband, Rob." Rob waves from his place on the wall. He's a fit beta man, taller than me with dark brown skin and close cropped black hair.

"I know, congratulations on your wedding. I'm Cali."

Mayor Liu smiles and the expression is surprisingly soft for such an imposing woman. "When Mr. Evergreen called, I was appalled. I knew I had to come down and help. I hope you're all right. If you ever need anything you can always call me." And she hands me a card. It's thick card stock and shiny. Clearly expensive. I thank her and pocket it, and she goes back to scrubbing in what I assume is a very expensive suit. Whether that's all politics or true caring I can't tell, but I'm grateful for the help either way.

Connor kisses the top of my head and returns to his part of the wall. As I get everything set up to start on my own piece, I look down the line. These people, this place, make me feel fuller than anything else ever has. It feels like home after only three weeks. I will not let some jerk push me back into bad habits or dictate my life. This is my library, and I will protect it with everything I have.

Later that night, the guys practically beg me to move some stuff into their house. They don't want me to stay alone, and I don't want to either. Their presence calms me. They help me load some stuff into Bax's truck and we end up at their house. I'm tired in my soul from the events of the day. We snuggle on their alpha-sized sectional couch and watchThe Fellowship of the Ring. Because it's the extended cut, I fall asleep before anyone leaves The Shire.

Bax

Thewomanworkswithbooks all day, and can borrow any of them for free. What was I thinking? This is a terrible fucking date idea. But it's too damn late to change now. I'll just have to grin and bear it until we get there. Then Cali'll probably inform me that she hates it, I'll take her home, and I'll drop out of my pack. There's no way I'll destroy their happiness just because I'm a dumbass.

And Cali looks so fucking cute in an overall dress with little mushrooms on it, a puffy-sleeved red sweater underneath, and black leggings that show off her beautiful legs. I could kiss her into forgetting about the date. Or beg forgiveness. But neither of those is fair. She's clearly put effort into her appearance, even though I'd think she was gorgeous in nothing but a shirt. Actually, I prefer that. If it was my t-shirt with my scent all over it.

I shake myself, trying to stay in reality, and the fact is that I'm so angry with myself that I can't focus enough. We've been sitting in this car in silence for twenty minutes while driving, and her scent has gone from dew in the morning to rain-tinged with burnt grass. The earth tones turn scorched whenever she's upset, nervous, or stressed. That isn't good, and I want to fix it, but I have no idea how. I'm sure that my scent, described as smokey, has also gone bitter. She's reacting to my scent and demeanor, and I'm responding to hers. Stress on stress. Fucking great.

We finally turn down Main Street. We're two towns over in another touristy town called Sandyville. Winter is their slow season, just like us, but where we've decided that the Ice Festival is the answer, Sandyville has decided that a mid-winter book festival is the solution. The town is set up much like Lakeside Point, with a main street that ends at the beach. But Sandyville is on the east side of the Peninsula, and the beach opens onto the end of Grand Traverse Bay, instead of Lake Michigan.

Across Main Street, from light pole to light pole, hangs a banner readingSandyville Book Festival: 10th Annual Book Buying, Selling, and Signing. Other signs describe the types of books sold and the signing authors. The street is blocked off, and booths and tables are lined up in three rows all the way to the bay.

I glance at Cali as we pull into the closest parking space on the main drag. She's staring out the window at the banners and posters. Eyes wide, mouth slightly open like she can't believe I'd bring a librarian to a book festival. I internally groan, and do my best not to fall face-first into my steering wheel in exasperation.

Then she turns to me, tears pricking the corners of her eyes, and I can't take it anymore. I move over to sit in the middle of the bench seat of my pickup truck where the steering wheel won't be in the way and gather her into my lap.

"Raindrop, I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. This was clearly a bad idea. I'll take you anywhere you want to go. Do anything. You just tell me. I promise I can do this better."

She pulls back just enough to look at my face, her forehead furrowed. "Why are you sorry?"

I huff out a laugh. She doesn't look mad, but my Raindrop is a very kind person. I press my forehead against hers. "I messed this all up. Bringing a librarian to a book fair. You're around books all day. Why are you crying if it's not because I've epically fucked up?" She giggles, and I feel so much pride in making her laugh.

"Because…" Cali trails off, and I give her a moment to compose her thoughts. I'll wait forever if she's in my arms while I do it. "Because no one's ever done this kind of stuff for me. You, your pack, it's so overwhelming to be thought about like this. In a good way." I snuggle her closer and purr deeper.

"Do you want to go pick out some books?" I ask, and her smile is the sun.

Calliope

Thebookfestivalisfantastic. We visit every stall, and Bax enjoys himself as much as I do. Whenever I find a book that interests me, I flip it over to check the price. But quick as lightning, Bax snatches it from my hands and holds onto it until I finish browsing. He then pays for the, sometimes small—often large—stack of books he collects from me. Occasionally, I notice him taking out a small notebook and jotting down something. When I ask him what it is, he simply replies, "Research," and doesn't elaborate.

I do my best not to think of the cost like he's asked, but some of those are sprayed-edged, special edition covers, goddammit. I tried to reason with him, to at least tell me when we spent a certain amount of money. But he won't have it. I push it aside. I need to trust him and let him lead.

Finally, we arrive at the author-signing events, and I'm excited to see several of my favorite authors. They're all incredibly kind, even though I think I act like a crazy fangirl. The last signature I get is from Lisa Bowl, and it's the one I've been looking forward to the most. When I mention that I'm a librarian, she asks for my card to arrange a book signing event at my library. I couldn't be happier!

I skip and squeal all the way back to the car, gushing about everyone we met and the books we found. Bax has a wide grin on his face.

He effortlessly carries all the bags. Winking at me, he asks, "What are you thinking about?"

"I was thinking you would make an excellent library page. I can barely lift four books at a time before my arms feel like noodles."

I cringe a little at a thought that pops into my head. Nick called me lazy because I wanted to read at night, and he thought we should go to the gym. Bax must catch the look because he asks what's wrong. I say it's nothing. He wraps the book bags in a tarp in his trunk bed and comes around to help me.

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