I take off my mask for the first time all day. In the soft light of our hotel room, the guys keep their voices pitched low as they talk. I’m only half paying attention. Moving around bookings we can’t make now because of the situation with Zeke and the omega. They leave me to my chair in a darkened corner. They know the amount of interaction has completely drained me.
Will the omega ever understand my needs? I tried to have relationships before I had a pack. They always pushed back on my quirks—called it “antisocial shit” they could fix me from. My pack were the first people to really understand me—and they convinced me I shouldn’t put up with it. So I got sick of it and started doing quick trysts in clubs. In corners and stalls.
Winnie’s face comes into my mind’s eye. She’s my mate. Her scent overwhelmed me in a way I didn’t know I could be overwhelmed. In a way that brought peace instead of anxiety. Will she try to fix me? My heart sinks. I don’t know if I could handle that from my mate.
A water glass appears in my vision. Rafe. He knows I haven’t had anything to drink since before the restaurant. I wouldn’t pull down my mask for it. I take it.
“It’s gonna be okay, man. We’ll figure this out,” he says softly.
I nod, and he takes that as his cue to go, knowing I can’t handle any big interactions tonight.
Because from every way I look at this situation, we're screwed.
Winnie
Tourist season has officially begun. We’re slammed from open until lunch, which I don’t take. Riley, the beta girl who works part-time for me between her online classes, is out sick. I’m pretty sure that’s code for sleeping in with her new boyfriend, but she’s generally a good worker, so I let it go. Deputy is with Corbin today. I got him all set up in his dog bed last night but I'm still not sure he's trained enough to be in the store with customers so Corbin agreed to work with him some more today at the station.
I’m checking out a customer when the scent hits me. It's coffee and woods and soft rainy mornings.
I glance toward the door and find Rafe, of all people, in the doorway. He somehow looks even more handsome than the last time I saw him. His wavy black hair is slicked back from his face. He wears a collared shirt, unbuttoned enough to expose the upper part of his chest. His jeans hug him in all the right places. He smirks when he catches me looking, and I have to tear my eyes away to finish with the customer in front of me. Thankfully, the line has finally died down while people browse.
Rafe steps up to the counter. “Busy day, Dulzura?” he asks. I’ve never heard the word before, and the distinct Spanish accent when he uses that word makes it sound sinful. I’m about to ask what it meanswhen a middle-aged woman with short, bottle-blonde hair steps up and asks about a gift on one of the higher displays.
I look to where she’s pointing just as a teenage boy steps up with a mug from our sports collection. My stomach, very unhelpfully, growls.
Rafe gives the woman a dazzling smile. “I’ll get that down for you, ma’am,” he assures her.
“Oh, it’s okay, I—” I begin.
“It’s no trouble, Dulzura. Go help your customer. And then please, eat something. I think you rattled the shop with that stomach growl.” He winks, and then he’s off. The middle-aged woman takes his offered arm, her hand wrapping around his bicep, and he dazzles her with another toothy grin.
I shake my head but let it go. Two more people join the teenager in line.
I really do need the help.
Rafe
Rafe
Not gonna lie—when I first saw Winnie with her big, pretty eyes and that little dress, she screamed innocence. Very sweet, maybe a little naive.
Watching her move around her shop, dealing with dozens of demanding customers for the last few hours, drills into me that she’s also incredibly smart and independent and completely capable of holding her own under stress. She deals with everyone, from the sweetest kid to the grumpiest alpha, with a smile, poise, and delicacy.
To put it bluntly, she’s amazing, and I’m half in love already.
I did call the Evergreen Café, knowing one of her omega friend’s pack owns it, and asked if anyone knew her favorite foods. I had them delivered. She looked ready to pass out when it arrived. I busied myself while the alpha who delivered it talked to her.
A light hand touches my forearm, and then tender, soft lips press to my cheek. When I look down, her big brown eyes and freckled face meet mine with an expression of adoration I definitely don’t deserve… yet.
“Thank you,” she says softly. This is the first time she's ever touched me, my Dulzura. My mate. And I wouldn't break this moment for anything.
“It’s nothing. Now go eat. I’ve got it covered up here,” I promise. She nods and heads to the back to eat.
The rest of the afternoon and early evening passes slowly as I handle the last few customers of the day. Finally, she locks up and flips the sign to CLOSED. She turns to face me, and there’s adorable suspicion on that beautiful face.
“What’s that look for, Dulzura?” I ask.
Her mouth quirks at the nickname, but then she goes serious. “Why did you come to the shop today?”
