All too quick, Jack was reading out her total. She paid for her items, grabbed her two cloth bags, and headed to the door.
I wanted to run after her. I could offer to carry her bags so she didn’t have to balance them on her bike handlebars as she rode back to the lighthouse. Or I could carryherif she wasn’t feeling up to biking today.
But my feet stayed rooted to the floor. She already felt like mine, but I was terrified of messing this up. After she’d practically run away from me the second time I invited her to dinner, I realized I needed to rethink my strategy.
I’d been told repeatedly that I came on too strong, and that, according to the last woman I’d gone on a few dates with, my attention wassuffocating.And my Olive was skittish. She only came into town when she’d run out of her stash of ramen and TV dinners. Shenever initiated conversation. I’d never even seen her smile. I had to play this right. I couldn’t scare her off. I wouldn’t survive it.
I watched her through the large market windows as she got on her slightly rusted bike and set off down the road.
“Umm, are you going to buy that?” Jack gestured at the crushed box in my fist. A dusting of baking soda spilled onto the floor.Shit. I looked around furtively to see if Marisol or Carmen were around. They would kill me for getting their floors dirty. I let out a little sigh of relief when I didn’t spot either of the sisters. This was another reason I had to be careful with Olive. I’d never gotten used to my alpha body—the way I towered over pretty much everyone, especially omegas like her, and how I constantly bumped into things and broke them with my clumsy limbs.
I never wanted to break her.
I mumbled an apology as I handed Jack some money. By the time I left the store, Olive had already disappeared down the winding road that led to the bay. I hated that she didn’t live closer to town. What if something happened to her out there, all alone?
My legs were heavy as I headed back to the house I shared with my packmates.
Finn was making lunch when I entered the kitchen. His eyes flicked to me and the still-leaking box in my hand. “Are you going to tell me why you sprinted out of the house like it was on fire?”
I’d been hovering by the window all morning, knowing Olive usually went to the market on Thursdays. My heart had almost exploded when I saw her coming down the street. But saying that would make me sound like a stalker, and I definitely wasn’t.
“We needed baking soda,” I grunted. I opened the fridge and set the sad little box on the shelf.
Finn looked like he wanted to press me, but he just turned back to his sandwich. I wanted to tell him about the woman I dreamed of making our omega, but Finn was still lost in his grief after the death of his grandparents, and Lars was still obsessed with an omega he’d scented years ago.
I took a deep breath. First, I would convince Olive to give us a chance. Then, I would convince the guys.
2
OLIVE
I cringedat the squealing bike brakes as I approached my house. I’d found this bike in a small shed on the property when I moved in a month ago, but it wasn’t in the best shape. I needed to figure out how to fix it so the chain stopped popping off and the brakes stopped sounding like a siren. Still, I wouldn’t complain. It made transporting groceries back home much easier.
I parked by the front door, pausing for a moment to breathe in the salty sea air and listen to the crashing waves. A meow alerted me to the presence of Sir Cat, the fluffy orange, white, and brown stray who had been sitting by my front door the day I moved in. He’d walked right inside, making himself at home as I’d hauled in my sparse possessions consisting of a suitcase and a couple of boxes.
“Hello, Sir,” I said, bending down to scratch his head. He didn’t have a collar, so I had no idea what his real name was. I’d tried out several, but he had fixed me with a deeply disapproving expression, so I just stuck with “Sir Cat.” He was regal enough to warrant the name, anyway.
When I interviewed for the lighthouse keeper position, I’d been told the house came furnished. I’d arrived with a rental car packedwith my limited possessions and opened the door to an almost empty house. There were some dishes in the cabinets. A small wooden table in the kitchen. Some books on lighthouse-keeping on the built-in bookcases. I’d purchased an air mattress to sleep on and a few other small things at a thrift store, but that was it. I was so close to paying off my credit card debt and needed to save every dollar. My new job came with free housing, but the salary wasn’t much.
I’d been relieved to have Sir Cat with me that first night. A small storm had blown through, howling and rattling the windows. He’d kept me company in the lighthouse watch room, purring the night away on my lap as I acquainted myself with the lighthouse manual and storm protocols.
We’d quickly fallen into a quiet routine. He rarely left my side, trailing me through the cottage and lighthouse like a fluffy shadow. I’d found a basket for twenty-five cents at the thrift store and put one of my own blankets in there for him. He certainly couldn’t keep sleeping on the floor.
“That alpha was at the market again today,” I said, my voice almost a whisper as if we would be overheard.
Easton.
The golden-skinned, curly-haired alpha with thick forearms, a broad chest, and stubble on his jaw. We kept running into each other, but he hadn’t asked me out again after I’d absolutely panicked the first two times he’d tried. He’d obviously come to his senses and given up, which was for the best. I’d moved to Starlight Grove to be alone. I couldn’t think of many jobs more solitary than lighthouse keeper.
So then… why did it feel like my heart was breaking at the thought of Easton giving up on me?
I moved inside, holding the door open for Sir Cat, and unloaded my groceries. One day, I’d learn how to cook. Pasta with jarred sauce was about as advanced as I got, and that’s what I was planning for dinner. Although, the only thing I was craving right now was croissants filled with Nutella and thick slabs of chocolate cake. I sniffed my sweater, unsure if I could actually catch a hint ofthe alpha’s rich, chocolate hazelnut scent or if it was just wishful thinking. My inner omega let out a forlorn whine, but I drowned her out with the kitchen radio, turning the knob until the static faded and music filled the room. My heart ached as I recognized the song. It was by one of me and my mom’s favorite artists—a semi-local singer we’d seen play at a bar before he blew up. Mom and I had played this album on repeat on the boat until my dad banned it.
Until the next day, at least. He could never refuse us anything.
I swallowed the lump in my throat as I drained the pasta. What would it be like to have a love like they’d had?
“What kind of music do you like?” I asked Sir Cat. He cocked his head. “Something sophisticated, right?”
