Don’t really care though.
This town has always deserved the best. Don’t know why it settles for less.
Two women stand behind me, talking in the syrupy way people do when someone else’s life is burning.
“Did youhear? Lo Marsh is back.”
The words hit hard, like a nail gun misfire. Straight through the ribs. My Alpha instincts flare like crazy.
Lo Marsh iswhat?
“No shit,” the other says. “She crashed into Sylvia Hammond’s float. Parade went to hell. Beck Calloway carried her off like some knight in shining turnout gear.”
Beck. Of course.
Always the one with the rescue story. Always the hero people love to tell each other about over coffee and pie.
My packmate… but once my romantic rival.
Not that anyone knows it but me.
My jaw ticks. I keep my eyes on the counter. Vee slides my cup over and I take it, wrapping my hands around the warmth, letting the lid bite into my thumb until the plastic creaks.
“She was out cold,” the first woman whispers. “Probably on drugs. You know how her family is.”
I turn then, just a little. Enough to catch their eyes over my shoulder.
I don’t say a word. Don’t have to. People talk big until you look at them with eyes that let them know you’re thinking about what their bones sound like when they break.
They go quiet real fast.
I take a sip. Too hot, bitter enough to tighten the back of my throat. Good. I need it. I need something to burn clean through the taste in my mouth.
Lo Marsh.
She’s back.
The girl I’ve been scent-matched to since junior year woodshop. The girl who smelled of peach candy and riot girl perfume, who walked past me with her chin up and her eyes sharp, never even noticing the way my lungs locked up every time she was near.
Never noticing me at all.
So, of course, I kept our scent-matching a secret.
But how can that stay a secret now?
She was too busy running headfirst into every fire she saw. Too busy looking at Beck Calloway like he’d invented sunlight. And I just… waited. Watched. Built my life out of old timber and quiet mornings and the promise that if she ever came back, I’d still be here.
Didn’t think it’d be like this. Her crashing back into town dramatically, into one of the parade floats that probably took months to build.
Not that it matters when she’s hurt and alone, with this feral town gnashing its teeth at her presence.
“Ford?” Vee says hesitantly. “You okay?”
I blink. Force the tension out of my shoulders. “Yeah.”
“Big day,” she says, gesturing out the window where crews are retying bunting to the festival gates. “They said the floral arch by the north entrance is buckling. Can you check it after breakfast?”
“Yeah,” I say again, draining half my coffee in one swallow. “I’ll handle it.”
