“B-but you don’t have time to do that.”
“I don’t have time not to. Go!”
The tears came harder, and I darted out of the kitchen and ran for the bathroom. I’d already made enough of a spectacle of myself. I wasn’t sure if I was more upset by my failure or touched by getting yet another chance. Amanda was doing more for me than my pack ever had.
Chapter Four
Lev
Living and working from home, even a trip to the grocery store was good for the soul. I loved the sounds of the city. Waiting for the crosswalk sign to change from the standing person to the walking one. Seeing people in their own worlds, shuffling around each other. Completing chores. Checking off mental lists. Worrying. Smiling. Young people sharing kisses while they walked.
I loved my job. I did. But being around people was good for me. Most of the time.
The market had the coleslaw mix I needed, but the sweet Hawaiian slider buns had to be bought from the local bakery. It might’ve been more convenient to purchase them from the grocery store, but the freshly baked ones were superior—and buying local as much as possible was my thing.
It was my day to cook so while the pork roast simmered in the slow cooker, I went out to buy the rest of the items.
The bell above the door made me smile when it dinged. I shook my head. I got the biggest kick out of silly things.
“Welcome to Bailey’s. Can I help you with anything?”
Bailey’s was a self-serve bakery. There was a wall of pre-packaged things like loaves of bread, rolls, and bagels, but on the other side was a case with trays and tongs which was self-serve. It had pastries, cupcakes, and croissants. I happened to know that my packmate and alpha, Miles, stopped in every morning for one of their caramel lattes and a scone. He was a creature of habit.
“No, thank you. I’ve got it covered.”
I didn’t only get the Hawaiian buns. There were too many tempting things. I got a variety of pastries and was eyeing one oftheir cakes, when a woman pushed out of the back. She blew out a long breath and put her hands on her hips and looked down in defeat. Her pink hair was piled up in a bun on the top of her head, and flour dusted her apron and her face. She even had some on her long eyelashes.
She darted to the bathroom and I caught the scent of her. It was faint, nothing more than a whisper, but to my bear’s nose, it was everything. Honey and cake so sweet and rich, I could almost taste them in my mouth. I almost dropped my shopping bags and the tray I held in my hands. I froze in place and waited there, like a goofy boy, for her to come out again.
I pretended to keep shopping even though my eyes were on that door.
After a few minutes that seemed like an hour to my bear, she came out. Her face was now clean but splotchier than ever. Her ears and cheeks pinked and her eyes puffy from her crying.
I had the urge to drop everything and wrap her in my embrace. Tell her everything was going to be okay. Fix all the things wrong in her life.
Huh. That was…interesting.
“Bad day?” I asked. I could’ve been cooler about it, but that was the first thing that came out of my mouth.
“Something like that. Um, can I help you find anything?” She looked around, still in some kind of funk.
“Oh, what cake do you recommend?” I stumbled for anything to keep her near me.
She began to point one out, but someone stuck their head out from the door that connected the storefront to the back. He called her back in, and she jumped a bit at the loud voice. “The chocolate ganache is to die for. Amy can help you check out.”
The omega rushed from my sight. I closed my eyes, letting my bear scent her. Sweeter than anything in this bakery, the omega called to my baser instincts.
I checked out knowing I would see her again. My pack and I frequented this place, so we would certainly see her again.
I had to tell them about her. It wasn’t every day an omega called not only to me but my bear.
That night, I waited until we were all seated and had our plates full before giving them the news. Honestly, I didn’t know how they would take it. We had dated omegas before in hopes that one would be a match for us. Omegas of all kinds. Some, we met in town. Some, we encountered on apps made for omegas and packs. At one point, years ago, we’d even considered a scent-match service that would find our perfect omega.
None of it worked. I had all but given up and I knew my packmates had as well.
The last thing we’d spoken about an omega was that if we were meant to find her, we would once we stopped looking. That seemed to be true.
“I met an omega today.” I spoke quickly before I lost my nerve. “Well, met is a strong word. More like, she bumped into me and we spoke briefly.”
