Page 5 of A Pack of Honey
I stare at him, momentarily at a loss for words. "You don't have a bathing suit? You know this is a lake town, right?"
"I didn't think I'd need trunks for business meetings," he sighs, the hint of a smile still playing on his lips.
"Well, you could always go in the buff," I blurt out, and the moment the words leave my mouth, I wish the floor would just open up and gobble me whole. His eyebrows shoot up again, and I feel myself melting into a puddle of heat. Thank god he laughs. It's a rich sound that warms me from bottom to top.
Before he can say anything else, the cashier calls for the next person in line, pulling me back to reality. I study his back as he orders, wondering why my omega seems to whine within me.I just manage to keep it from morphing into a verbal omega whine. When he finishes ordering, he glances back at me before sliding down to the other end of the counter where the pickup is. I step up to make my order.
"The man who just ordered also paid for your order," the cashier informs me. I glance back at him. He's still waiting for his coffee at the other end of the counter, cradling the pasty I'd recommended.
"Thank you," I mouth, and he shrugs, a small but genuine smile lighting up his face. I order my usual black coffee, and the cashier hands it to me immediately.
I want to go to the end of the counter and spend time with the man who feels so familiar. My Omega sends another whine skittering up my throat, but I manage to tamp it down at the last minute. However, when I turn, the mystery man is on his phone again. So, I leave and head back to the Apiary, stealing one last glance over my shoulder and wishing for a different ending to our fleeting encounter.
Luca
Ilookupfroman obnoxious email to see the petite blonde beauty in overalls walking out the café door.Damnit! We didn’t exchange names or numbers, nothing at all. I pocket my phone, abandon the last coffee for my pack that hasn't been made yet, and march out the door after her without a second thought.
But when I get out of the café, she's gone. Did I fucking imagine her? No, that delicious smell of honey and tea is more pungent out here than inside. Before I can parse that, my phone buzzes in my pocket, and I quickly check the text.
Cole:
Did you get our fucking coffees yet?
The guys expected me to be back in five minutes, not forty-five. But after talking to the blonde beauty in overalls, I want nothing more than to rip up the town looking for her.
Luca: Yes. Coming back now.
I head back into The Evergreen Café and grab the last coffee.
I meet Cole and the others back at the hotel. It's a decent place but underscores the need for a more luxurious resort in this tourist town. It's a very mid-styled hotel with a bland exterior and an even blander interior. The walls are beige, the art is forgettable scenes of the beach, and the rooms are square boxes to sleep in and nothing more. I hand out the coffees, and the guys practically guzzle them as we work on various devices.
The entire time I "work," my thoughts are filled with the woman from the café. I glance up at Cole, who's engrossed in his phone. The omega courtings come to mind. Cole had pushed them hard, and I could see why he thought they were important. Our alphas have been more on edge and destructive for a while now. Without an omega, that part of our inner psyches would become more conflict-driven with each other. My alpha and Cole's alpha's were constantly snapping to the surface. I'd snap at him for being too aggressive and controlling. He, on the other hand, snapped at me for not allowing the courtings to move forward. I wasn't as bad as Jess, who made rejection of omegas an art. But I neverneededto keep any omega we had been matched to. I enjoyed omegas and betas for sure. But as casual hookups. None stuck. But the blonde woman at the café? She stuck in my mind like cement. I didn't even know if she was a beta or an omega. I resolved to look for her later after all the meetings were done for the day.
We pile into the car, and the afternoon is filled with meetings. First, we attend a site visit with the new contractor, who voices his doubts about the project's viability. At the permits office, they make it clear they aren't interested in who we are and will not speed anything up for us.
By mid-afternoon, Cole is fuming, and the tension is palpable. His hands are clenched into fists, and his face is set in a rigid grimace. This trip is not going according to his plan, and we all feel the strain. While we each work on our respective areas tosolve the problems, we aren't working as seamlessly as we once did. My head is entirely out of the game. I can't think of anything besides the woman I'd met in the coffee shop. Everything I do is laced with thoughts of her golden hair, soothing voice, and that blush she gave when she'd said "dirty librarian.”
As we drive along the picturesque beaches, we eventually turn onto a dirt road that leads into the woods. After a few minutes the dirt road opens up into a stunning meadow. A hand-painted sign that reads "Sunshine Apiary" marks the entrance. Beyond it stands a lovely white farmhouse with a spacious wrap-around porch. A small dirt lot accommodates several cars, and patrons are headed for a small, white cottage marked "gifts." Another sign points to an overgrown trail through the tall grass labeled "bee tours." Children play on a playground that looks like enormous bees pollinating flowers, but the stems are slides and the wings are climbing nets.
“Why are we here?" I ask Cole.
"I'm resolving this land issue once and for all," he growls.
"I doubt bludgeoning this ‘Sunny’ into submission will work. He's been resistant," I reply, challenging him.
"I will convince him," Cole states firmly. When Cole sets his mind to something, success is all but assured.
We drive up to the front and exit the vehicle. Cole leads the way past the little picket fence surrounding the farmhouse, taking the wooden porch steps two at a time. We follow closely behind, positioning ourselves along the stairs so we don't crowd the front door. Anyone opening that door is bound to feel intimidated by Cole, especially with three other alphas looming behind him. Cole presses the doorbell, which chimes a light tune. It's a stark contrast to his imposing presence and ridiculous enough to draw a stifled laugh from us.
"Excuse me, gentlemen," a cheery voice from behind us calls.
I turn and freeze.
Cole
Thewomanatthebottom of the porch steps glistens with sweat. Her overalls cling to her body, dusted with pollen and dirt. Her blonde hair is pulled back in a tousled ponytail, framing her face and accentuating her striking features which include a button nose and a pointed chin. Her sun-kissed skin is peppered with playful freckles that hint at long outdoor days. Whoever she is, she radiates a raw, captivating beauty.
Her blue gaze locks onto me with a smoldering intensity, making my heart race. It takes so long to gather my thoughts that my pack glances back at me, curiosity etched on their faces. All except Luca. Who, I note, looks as transfixed as I feel. I clear my throat, the tension in the air thickening around us.
