Maybe.
I stand there, looking at myself one last time in the mirror, trying to convince myself I’ve got this. I take a deep breath, forcing myself to exhale slowly.
This is just dinner. Just a date. It’ll be fine.
But the tightness in my chest doesn’t go away. It lingers, heavy in my sternum, and I’m not sure whether it’s nerves or something more complicated and more dangerous than I’m willing to admit.
“Alright,” I mutter to myself, giving one last glance at Tansy, who’s still lounging on the couch with that smug grin on her face. “I’m going.”
“Hell yes, you are,” she calls out, clearly satisfied with herself.
I make my way to the door, my steps slower than usual, like I’m trying to drag this out just a little longer.
But I can’t. I know I can’t.
I’m not sure I want to, anyway.
Fuck these instincts.
Outside on the crooked, sagging porch, the evening is cold but welcoming, and the soft scent of jasmine and freshly mowed grass floats through the breeze. Some people already have Christmas lights up, illuminating driveways and asphalt with a myriad of colors.
It’s my favorite time of the year. At least, it was, at one point. For a moment, I allow myself to remember the massive balsam fir Christmas tree Mom used to put up every year. The hot chocolate my father would make from scratch while we listened to Christmas carols on my grandmother’s old record player and decorated the house.
I miss the feeling Christmas used to give me.
Ford smells like Christmas.
I take a deep breath, letting the calm settle into my chest, hoping it’ll push the anxious buzz of my Omega instincts back down.
And then I see him.
Ford’s standing at the end of the driveway, leaning against his truck with that effortless, quiet presence of his. He’s dressed in jeans that fit against the thickness of his muscles and a simple shirt that clings to his broad shoulders, and damn it, the way his hair’s falling into his face, slightly messy but still perfect, makes me want to run my fingers through it.
Makes me want to grab it and shove his face between my legs.
He’s gorgeous. Of course he is.
But it’s not just his looks that hit me as a punch in the gut. No, it’s the way he smells. That deep, earthy scent of pine and worn leather, like Christmas morning, and it hits me all at once, powerful as a wave.
It’s been so long since I’ve unwrapped a Christmas gift.
My Omega stirs, instinctively reacting before my brain can catch up. I’m suddenly aware of his presence, the tension building in my chest as his scent wraps around me, grounding me, calling to me.
It’s like an invisible pull I can’t resist, and I hate how easily it happens. My heartbeat picks up, my breathing shallow. I can’t make it stop. I can’t hold it back. Every fiber of my being is telling me to get closer, to close the distance between us, and I almost do without thinking.
It’s too much. Too fast. Toointense.
I freeze for a moment, anxiety creeping in. I try to overcome my Omega, to think about what Ishouldbe doing while in town…
But I can’t stop myself. I want this more than I should.
His eyes flick to me as I approach, and a soft smile pulls at the corner of his lips. It’s subtle, but it’s there, and it feels welcoming.
“Lo.”
My heart stutters in my chest at the sound of it.
“Hey,” I reply, walking toward him slowly, hoping my legs don’t betray me and send me straight down toward the cracked pavement of the driveway.
