Page 105 of Cost of Courting

He shakes his head. “She might need me.”

I don’t even try to dissuade him.

Dot turns and watches him go. “One day, he’s going to have to forget about your twit of a sister. It will take an act of a god to get her to look at him with anything but derision.”

I want to argue with her, but I can’t.

“But you aren’t looking at them with derision. Not anymore. What happened?”

“Oh, I know you’ve heard on the grapevine. Why are you asking me?”

I skirt around the table; she falls into step beside me. She’s right, they do watch me as I walk away. I can feel their eyes. The comforting, strange thrill of knowing the alphas I am so conscious of and so deeply aware of reciprocate with almost physical glances and smiles that are like a hand caressing my back.

The bonds throb with warmth, love, contentment. All is well in our world, in this moment.

The music blares through the neighborhood, and my friend Dot walks with me side-by-side. It’s rare for us to get together in public like this. It’s rare for us to be this happy and relaxed as a group.

It’s because of them. I’m willing to take more risks.

I nod to Cindy, Peta, and Evie, making a mental note that I never see them apart anymore. Are they a pack? Why has it never occurred to me to wonder? I wonder if they are happy.

“No fights for a while?”

“No. I’ve been able to avoid them, thankfully. Though I’m not sure for how much longer.”

Dot opens her mouth but pauses. Whatever she was going to say falling away as Kingston looms up in front of us, his eyes on me, a soft smile reaching in and lighting me up from the outside in.

“We have to head off for a little while,” Kingston murmurs and kisses my temple. “I promise we’ll be back in an hour or so.”

I shrug, trying to hide my disappointment. “Okay. Who’s going?”

“The three of us, but Bailey has taken some of the kids down the street to play a game of football. I promise, my heart, we will be back as soon as we can.”

“Okay, I’ll be here.”

He kisses me, the lightest brush of lips. In front of everyone.

I am claimed.

My heart clenches and expands, happiness spills out of me, and I am not alone. And now everyone knows it. That smallest token gesture has changed the entire neighbourhood dynamics. It tells them everything they need to know.

And everyone I see is smiling as the three of them get into their car and drive away.

Dot nudges me with her elbow. “I hope they are keepers.”

“Yeah, they are.” I finger the bonds.

“Good grief, girl, do you need smelling salts? Look at those bites!”

“Yes,” I say dreamily. “Wait! What?”

Dot laughs. “Come on, I want some of Mrs Fritz’s pasta salad. I dream about that salad.”

We wander back and join a circle of people talking. I notice the cheerful smiles of my neighbours. The chatter, the weight that has lifted off our shoulders.

The peace.

This is why we do these street parties. Because we need a break from the monotony of stress and survival and to give ourselves relief from the endless struggle. To remember that no matter how it goes down, we’re not alone.

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