Page 16 of A Pack of Honey
I open my mouth, maybe to tell him about my suspicions about the vandal. Or maybe to tell him off. I'll decide as it leaves my mouth, but a car rumbles down the dirt drive to the farmhouse. It's Cole's. Here to pick him up.
Good. I don't need them here anymore. I can't handle his overwhelming scent and their overwhelming presence. I needed space to think. But when Luca and Hunt get out of the car, they start pulling out duffle bags. Cole gives me one last once over and heads down to pull one out too. Jess also comes out of the farmhouse to get his own bag.
They turn to look at me.
"What do you think you're doing?" I deadpan.
"Coming to stay, Sunshine," Jess replies. I cringe at the nickname. I'm well aware that my disposition doesn't match my name. I'd received that monicker in school in the most ironic sense.
"Excuse you?" I balk. "You definitely are not." If they think they're staying in my house just because we're scent-sensitive matches, they're dead wrong.
Luca approaches. I take a step back, and he stops just at the bottom of my porch steps. The soft hurt in his eyes at my subtle rejection has me feeling like the jerk here. But this is my home. I won't feel bad for not allowing them to invade it. "You're being threatened. From what you’ve said, it's gone from threats to small vandalism to destruction of private property. The obvious next step is violence."
I scoff. I don't think it'll escalate that far.
"We're staying." Cole's voice is cold and definitive.
"Not in this house. If you try, I'll call Randy." Randy is the local sheriff. He's good friends with my grandmother. He'll kick out anyone if I ask. I know he'd arrest my suspected vandals if he could. The law and lack of evidence tie his hands.
"Fine," Hunt says, and I'm surprised it's that easy. These alphas don't seem like ones to give up. Cole certainly hasn't come across that way in email, and even less so in person.
Hunt walks around the back of the car and pulls out a box about half his size. It's clearly just been purchased. All the stickers are on it. It's labeled as a luxury six-person tent.
Cole
Sunny'smouthdropsopen.We anticipated that she wouldn't let us stay in her house. I'd be upset if she did. It shows a level of self-preservation and care that she protects herself, even from us. Sunny's angry at what's been done to her home, but when I'd looked into her eyes earlier, I saw fear and sadness so deep that I'd do anything to root it out.
So, I sent Hunt and Luca to town to make arrangements. They've packed up everything at the hotel, checked us out early, and canceled any and all appointments for the rest of the day and tomorrow, along with our flight home in a week. A camping store near Route 22 had been open, and the guys picked up the tent and supplies there when we anticipated she wouldn’t let us stay at the house. The hotel was just too far away for our alpha’s comfort.
I'm leary about it. I haven't been camping in over twenty-five years. That brief sojourn was set up by a well-meaning but clueless uncle. We'd gotten on his nerves so bad he took me and my brother home early.
I've also braced for the chance that Sunny might call the police to kick us off her land. There's a public campsite just off her property. It'd be a thirty-minute walk for us to check on her house in the night, but we'd do it in shifts if we have to. Ideally we can stay in the yard. . Our mate being in danger is unacceptable. Our alphas won't allow us to leave her, but even if they did, we wouldn't go.
But to our surprise, she doesn't immediately tell us to get off her property. She smirks and saunters back into the house. We all glance at each other, shrug, and move to the side yard next to the front door. We begin unboxing the tent, and I growl in frustration.
"Jesus, Hunt, did you choose the most difficult tent?" Jess asks. Hunt has the good sense to look slightly abashed and rubs the back of his neck while looking down at the number of stakes, poles, and odd plastic bits involved.
I hear the screen door open, and bang shut behind us. We all turn to see Sunny stroll out onto her porch, still wearing that gingham dress and holding a massive glass of wine. The first smile I've ever seen on her face is far more mocking than pleasant. She sits on her porch swing and sips, eyes locked on us and our tent—prepared for a show.
Sunny
Howmanyalphasdoesit take to put up a tent? That sounds like the beginning of a dirty joke, and I giggle a little. Said alphas look up at me, and when I don't say anything, they all reluctantly return to their work. I'm on my second glass of wine. It makes me feel light, and all the crazy issues feel less stressful.
The guys have been going at the tent for an hour, and this half-up-half-down thing looks like it'll blow over with one good gust of wind. In their efforts, they've worked up quite a sweat. Suit jackets and ties have been shucked off, sleeves have been unbuttoned and rolled up, revealing massive biceps, and the tops of hair and non-hair-covered chests with impressive V's at their pecks. It makes me hot for a totally different reason, and I ignore the ache forming between my thighs.
Jess tries to stake down a corner of the tent and breaks the cheap plastic stake with his massive alpha foot… again. You'd think, for how expensive that tent looks, it would have provided metal stakes. The sun is just about to set. Thankfully, it's June and not too cold at night. They won't freeze or anything, butI know these guys haven't thought this through. Heat, lights, chargers, bathroom facilities, water? Nah. I give them one night before they book it back to the city.
That's what I want. It's what needs to happen. Then why do I have this horrible, hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach? My omega whines within me at the thought of them being further away than the yard. I shush her. She doesn't know what's best for us. She doesn't live in the real world of bills, business, and managing. She lives in scents, instincts, and desires. She may have a significant hold on my reactions sometimes, but I'm still in charge.
I keep telling myself that as I descend the front porch steps and walk over to a small shed on the cornerback of the property. The guys are still grunting and struggling behind me. I swing open its large double doors and swat away the angry wasps that have made nests in the wooden beams.
I sift through a couple of boxes and move a few pieces of lawn equipment before finding a box with extra screws, nails, and metal stakes. Huffing back across the lawn, I step up to Cole, who's staring holes into my face. I don't meet his eyes when I thrust the box into his hands.
"Thank you!" Jess calls at my back as I make my way into the farmhouse.
"Don't go near my bees!" I call as the screen door slams behind me.
Am I being an asshole? Maybe. But I don't know these guys. I should call the cops and have them removed from the property. I originally planned to do just that. Let them struggle to get the damn tent up, and then call the cops to have them removed anyway. But my omega has some serious feelings about it when I try to do it. Apparently, I'm not going to completely make them leave. Whenever I reach for the landline to call the police back, I panic a little. My heart rushes in my ears. And then I drink morewine. Cause if my life is going to be this messed up, I might as well be blitzed for it.
