She kisses me then. It's soft and quick.
After she leaves, I start thinking about the possibility that maybe my career doesn't have to end.
My phone buzzes. It's a text from Cassian who is at the station: "Thank you for having Sharon around. She needed that as much as you did."
I smile.
I text back: "We need to talk about Sharon. All three of us. Soon."
The response comes immediately: "Yeah. I know."
I put my phone down and look out at Pine Hollow. The town is quiet under the winter sky, lights twinkling from houses scattered across the mountain.
I'm starting to understand why Cassian and Pine are both falling for her. It's not just her scent or the way she fills out those jeans. It's the way she cares, even when caring makes everything harder. The way she tries, even when she's terrified of failing.
My brothers are right about her. Sharon Martinez isn't just some omega planning a wedding we don't want. She's someone worth protecting, and claiming, if she'll have us.
I close my eyes and let that truth sink in. My career might be uncertain, my future unclear, but this feeling about Sharon is the most sure I've been about anything in a long time.
Tomorrow, I'll figure out what that means. Tonight, I'm just going to sit with it and let myself want something good for once.
13
SHARON
I’m in my hotel room at the Pine Inn, sitting on the bed with my laptop trying new marketing strategies, when there's a knock on the door that makes my entire body go tense. I'm not expecting anyone. Cassian, Jett, and Pine are all doing something with work today. Jessica is on a skiing trip with her siblings for the next couple of days.
I open the door to find Penelope standing there with red-rimmed eyes and her designer coat looking significantly less pristine than usual. Her matching eye patch tattoo seems to mock her as she stands there looking like she's been crying for approximately three days straight without stopping.
"Can we talk?" she asks, and her voice is small in a way that feels completely at odds with her usual imperious tone.
Every instinct I have is screaming at me to close the door, because I don’t know how she found out where I am staying. Maybe I told her when I paid the bill. Yeah, I did, I just remembered. Every part of my brain that knows what Penelope and Ben are planning is telling me that this is some kind of trap. But I'm also an omega, and there's something in her scent that's making my protective instincts flare up despite the fact that I know better.
I step back and let her into the room, closing the door behind her. She walks over to the window and stares out at Pine Hollow like she's seeing it for the first time. Her shoulders are hunched, and her scent is absolutely all over the place. It smells like desperation mixed with sadness and something that might be genuine distress.
"I know what you and Ben are planning," I say, deciding to get straight to the point instead of dancing around it like we're going to pretend that she hasn't been running up massive debts all over town. "I know about the real estate development. I know about the books you bought. I know about the fraud you're committing against Ben's family."
Penelope turns to face me, and tears are streaming down her face in a way that looks genuine even though I know it could be an act. It could be a manipulation tactic. It could be something she researched in one of those books about psychological manipulation.
"You have it all wrong," she says, and her voice cracks in a way that makes my heart hurt for her even though I know I shouldn't trust anything she says. "I need the money, Sharon. My grandmother is dying. She needs medication that costs thousands of dollars a month, and I don't have insurance that covers it. Ben said he'd help me. Ben said once we were married and I had access to his family's money, we could pay for her medication."
I stare at her, trying to figure out if this is real or if this is the most elaborate manipulation tactic I've ever encountered. Her scent is definitely broadcasting genuine distress, but alpha scents are complicated. They can be faked by people who are good at lying.
"There are better ways to do this," I say quietly, sitting down on the bed and gesturing for her to sit. She does, and she sits far enough away that we're not quite close but we're not quitedistant either. "You could have taken out a loan. You could have done a fundraiser or gotten a job or literally anything except commit fraud against his entire family."
"I did ask Ben for help," Penelope says, and her voice is small and broken and sounds like the truth. "He said he couldn't give me money without his family asking questions. He said the only way to get access to money without questions was to marry him and then have access to family accounts. He said it wasn't fraud."
Which is complete bullshit, and we both know it. But I'm sitting here listening to Penelope explain how Ben manipulated her into committing fraud, and I'm starting to understand that maybe she's not the mastermind here. Maybe she's just the desperate woman who got caught up with the wrong alpha.
"I'm glad you're my friend," Penelope says suddenly, and it's so unexpected that I have to process it for a moment. "Even though you have every right to hate me. You're still sitting here talking to me like I'm not a complete disaster."
"I'm not your friend," I say, but my voice is softer than I intended. "But I'm not your enemy either. I'm someone who understands that sometimes people make terrible decisions because they're desperate."
Penelope nods, and she's wiping at her tears with the back of her hand like she's angry at herself for crying. "What should I do?"
"You should tell Ben that you're not doing this anymore," I say slowly. “Admit what you've been planning and face the consequences. You should figure out a way to help your grandmother without committing fraud. There are organizations that help with medication costs, government programs, etc. which don’t involve breaking the law.”
"He's going to be so angry," Penelope whispers.
