When I bring everything to the counter, she rings it up. Professional. Distant.
Up close, her scent is even better. That cinnamon-apple warmth wraps around me, and underneath it I catch something that makes my alpha growl with interest—the faint sweetness that means omega. My body responds before my brain catches up. Blood heading south. Breathing deeper without permission.
She notices. Her pupils dilate slightly when my scent shifts, sandalwood and cedar intensifying with arousal I can't quite hide.
For a moment we just stare at each other across the counter. Close enough that I could reach out and touch her hand. Close enough to see her pulse fluttering at her throat. The air between us feels charged, like the moment before lightning strikes.
Her lips part slightly. My gaze drops to her mouth before I can stop myself.
Then she blinks and looks away, fingers fumbling with the register. "Busy morning?" she asks, voice slightly breathless.
I clear my throat, trying to sound normal. "The usual Monday rush. You?"
"Interesting." She doesn't look up, focused intently on scanning items. "Half the town's been in asking about supplies they clearly don't need."
"Ah. The excuse to gossip method."
"You know it well, apparently." Now she does look up, challenge in her eyes. "So what's your excuse?"
"Actually need supplies." I gesture to the items. "Been running the hardware store solo since Tyler's back in school full time. Sometimes it's easier to grab basics here."
She studies me like she's trying to figure out if I'm lying. "Your total is forty-three fifty."
I hand over my card. While she processes it, I make a decision. Milo said not to push, but that doesn't mean I can't offer options.
"Hey, random question. You looking for extra hours?"
Her eyes narrow. "Why?"
"Because I need help." I keep it simple, honest. "I heard you have a marketing degree. I could actually use someone who knows that side of business. The store's social media is basically non-existent, and I've been meaning to figure out how to reach customers beyond word of mouth. Plus, help with stocktake."
"Who told you I have a marketing degree?" Suspicion colors her voice.
"Ben mentioned it. I buy parts from his garage sometimes." I lean against the counter slightly. "He's proud of you. Talks about his smart little sister who went off to college and got her degree."
Her expression shifts, something softer underneath the suspicion. "Ben talks too much."
"Ben's a good guy who's proud of his sister." I meet her gaze. "And he wouldn't lie about you being smart and capable. So, you interested in helping a hardware store enter the twenty-first century, or not?"
She opens her mouth to argue, but something shifts in her expression. The walls coming down just slightly, letting me see the exhaustion underneath.
"I'll think about it," she says quietly.
"That's all I'm asking." I take my bag and receipt. "You know where to find me if you decide you want it. No pressure."
I'm almost to the door when she calls out, "River?"
I turn back.
She's watching me with an expression I can't quite read. Wary but curious. "Thanks. For not asking about Saturday."
"None of my business unless you want to talk about it." I shift the bag to my other hand. "But for what it's worth—anyone who makes you feel like you need to do something desperate just to get away from them is an asshole."
The corner of her mouth quirks. Almost a smile. "He was just wrong for me."
"Still. You shouldn't have had to deal with that." The protective instinct surges again, stronger now that we're actually talking. My alpha wants to find her ex and make it very clear he's not welcome back. "If he shows up again and bothers you, let me know. Or Seth. Or Ben. We'll handle it."
Now she does smile—small, but genuine. "I'll keep that in mind."
