Page 16 of A Pack of Pumpkins
Outside, the sidewalks are slick with rain, scattered with red and gold leaves that cling to the cobblestones in wet patches. Every time the door opens, a damp autumn breeze rushes in.
Inside, the Evergreen Café hums with warmth from a fire snapping merrily in the corner. Pumpkin spice muffins cool on the counter, wood burn scent in the air, the soft clatter of mugs and plates wrapping everything in comfort.
"Yeah, apparently it’s some mix-up at their rental office. Bram's handling it, but since we don’t want to move out because of the whole scent sensitivity thing, he can’t exactly ream them out over a situation we plan to keep.”
They all gape at me, and I realize I’ve gotten ahead of myself.
So I rewind and give them the abbreviated version. Everything from the moment I walked into the house to the police finally leaving. I’m interrupted by a customer, and when I return, I’m greeted by a row of mixed expressions.
Winnie stares at me with wide, worried eyes. Cali, an omega with auburn hair and a baby bump, watches me with the creased brow and quiet concern only asoon-to-be mother can master. Sunny, the local beekeeper, tugs at the ends of her blonde hair like she’s ready to storm over and scold someone. And Rose, a beta with wild curls and curves for days, is still typing furiously on her phone. She’s a workaholic, but a ride-or-die. Always there when her friends need her.
“So, they’re your mates?” Cali asks, rubbing slow circles over her belly.
I take a deep breath. This is something I’ve always dreamed, and telling my closest friends makes it feel real. It's second only to actually meeting the alphas.
“Yes. They are.” I’m not going to hedge this with a maybe. The scents, the feelings, the connection with these alphas is real… Even with Victor.
“Clara,” Rose says, reaching across the table. Her phone is finally down, and concern clouds her features. Clearly she’s been listening through all her typing. “Maybe you should come stay with one of us. I have a spare room. You don’t have to stay in that house. I know you’re excited they’re your mates, but that doesn’t mean you have to stay if you’re uncomfortable.”
“Exactly,” Winnie chimes in, nodding. “Iknewthat rental price was too good to be true.”
I smile around at my friends.
“I’m fine, guys. Really.” When they still look skeptical, I add, “I promise, if I need you, I’ll let you know.”
“Okay, but we aredefinitelygoing to have to meet them,” Sunny insists. “And see your new place. Why don’t we do dinner there this week? Like a barbecue or potluck.”
My eyes widen. Panic bubbles up. Sunny isnotknown for taking no as an answer. But I amnotbombarding the alphas with my exuberant but well-meaning friends so early in our courtship.
“I’ll ask the guys,” I say quickly, just as another table waves me down.
“ASAP!” Sunny callsafter me.
I can’t help but laugh because Sunny's already planning the ambush in her head.
Victor
Claraflitsaroundthecafé like a leaf on the autumn wind. She smiles and laughs and talks to every customer like they’re already her friend. Maybe they are. I wouldn’t know. I don’t know who Clara considers a friend and who she doesn’t.
I’m avoiding her but I can’t stay away from her. Every part of me battles with itself when I’m around her, and it’s killing me. My alpha is very fucking clear.She is our mate.He wants her. He wants her so badly it makes my teeth ache. My cock throbs every time I get close enough to scent her.
But laid over that, like mold on a perfectly symmetrical pumpkin, is me and all my fucked-up baggage. Trust me. I know how fucked up I am.
There’s the reasonable voice in my head, too. The one I ignore for everything. It says my experiences aren’t universal. That just because something happened once doesn’t mean it’ll happen again. That I’m not doomed to misery.
Fuck that voice.
I glance down at the sketch pad in front of me and add some shading to the drawing. The bell over the café door jingles, and in walks Deputy McBadge from the night everything spiraled. He looks even more clean-cut and heroic in daylight. His eyes go straight to Clara.
And, as a man, I don’t blame him. She’s beautiful. Flawless skin, maybe no makeup—or she uses it so well you can’t tell. Curves that dip and swell in all the right places. Thighs peeking out beneath a little skirt that makes me want to sink my teeth into her.
No, as a man, I don’t blame Officer Fuckface at all. But as an alpha? It takes everything in me not to go rip his damn head off.
He shouldn’t be looking at my omega.
Which is, of course, hypocritical as hell.
Like I said—baggage.
