Page 4 of A Pack of Honey
Sunny
I'mwaytoobusyfor this. The line at The Evergreen Café is almost out the door. I know their pastries, the local hand pies, and lattes are great, but you'd think the three alpha owners wouldn't have time to be so successful, given they just found their omega four months ago. Not a chance. The place is busier than ever. I really need to invest in a coffee maker.
I’d just dropped off fresh honey and specialty products for the Café, and I need a quick caffeine boost before heading back to the farm. Sally and Sean, the beta twins who work for me, have everything under control with help from a seasonal crew. I trust them, but it's hard to leave other people in charge, even for a few hours.
In front of me an alpha—based on his six-foot-some-inches frame—is engrossed in typing on his phone. Thanks to the scent neutralizers the owners put in the Café last month, picking up alpha and omega scents is nearly impossible. They did this after two tourists realized they were scent matches to each other, and the omega basically doused the place in her perfume in themiddle of the lunch rush. It took forever to dissipate. Hooray for love and all, but no one needed the smell of patchouli on top of coffee. Not sure how anyone loves that scent, but that alpha sure did. He looked like he might bend that woman over the poor barista's counter—and the omega looked like she'd let him.
So it was strange that, even though the scent neutralizers were in full effect, I felt like I could smell citrus and amber faintly wafting off the alpha in front of me. I'd have to talk to Cali about telling her mates to up the neutralizers.
The alpha is older than I am, and from the slice of profile I can see, he looks dashing—in a professorial sort of way.
The hint of frustration and soft curses tumbling from his lips has me smothering a smile. The sight of tourists struggling to find reception at the secluded tip of the Peninsula is undeniably amusing. Our cell tower is far away in Suttons Bay, leaving us with only spotty service.
But when he dramatically smacks the phone against his forehead in exasperation, I feel a rush of empathy. His scowl is surprisingly charming.
"The WiFi name is ‘Calliope,’" I say, interrupting his phone-based self-flogging. He turns to look at me, and my breath catches in my throat. Now that I can see his face clearly, I realize my initial assessment was more than correct. He has a rugged nose that's prominent and hooked, but it only serves to enhance his features. His moss green eyes sparkle against the backdrop of his pale skin. Thick, black hair is pushed back from his face. He looks like he stepped out of a gothic romance novel. Almost as if he belongs to the pages ofJane Eyre.
"‘Calliope?’" He asks, his voice smooth and low. I nod.
"It's the name of the owner's omega. The password is…" I hesitate, and he raises an eyebrow. Leaning closer, I lower my voice, "It's ‘dirtylibrarian.’ All one word, lowercase." I notice the flicker of surprise on his face just before he suppresses a smirk.
"Because she's a librarian," I add, quickly trying to brush off the awkwardness of saying the phrasedirty librarianto a stranger.
"I see," he replies, his deep voice resonating like the narration of a steamy novel. He types the information into his phone, and I think our encounter will end. However, he looks back at me with a glimmer of curiosity.
"Is this line really worth the coffee they sell here?" he asks, green eyes locking onto mine.
Ever loyal to my friends, I nod vigorously. "Definitely. All the coffee is great, and the pasties are famous here." I point to a case in the corner. He nods solemnly as if this is vital information.
His gaze flickers over me again. "Have we met before?"
I nearly reply no, but the word catches in my throat. There's something inexplicably familiar about him, a resonance that pulses deep within me. I'm confident I've never seen him, yet something in his face is hauntingly familiar. My heart races, and my omega stirs restlessly, drawn to him in a way I don’t fully understand. I take a quick breath, hoping my perfume doesn’t betray me.
Down,I mentally scold my omega.He’s a stranger.
She doesn't seem to care.
"Those cakes smell good, " he comments, gesturing to the cakes made with honey from my farm in the display case. I feel my face flush. The scent neutralizers are not working well, but they must be working a little for him to not realize that the honey scent is actuallyme.
"Are you here for vacation?" I ask, hoping to mask my embarrassment with the question.
"No, business.” He puts his phone away and directs all his attention to me. "But it's so lovely up here. I regret not coming sooner."
"It really is. There's so much to do here; the landscape and nature are beautiful. There are some truly adorable towns. Though I, biasedly, think ours is the best. People who don't know about us miss out, but I'm glad we haven't evolved into something too corporate."
He hums in… contemplation? Maybe agreement?
"Any suggestions for things to do?" he asks.
I think about it for a moment. There's so much beauty up here, and so much to do, but I never have time for it. "North Bar," I finally say.
His eyebrow arches in curiosity once more, and the subtle movement sends a flutter through my belly. It makes him look even more captivating.
"They have good drinks?" he asks, flashing an amused half-smirk that makes my heart race. I giggle. Something I never do, and wish I could immediately take back.
"No, it's a great place to swim and not nearly as well known as South Bar, the more popular swimming location. It's more secluded."
"Ah," he murmurs, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. "I would probably need a bathing suit for that."
