I’d fallen into the rhythm of it. Even the scent of fertilizer and rodenticide didn’t bug me anymore; it was like background radiation, so constant it might as well have been genetic.
In this lull, I usually let my brain chew on code problems or memorize the precise order of every fastener on aisle five.
Today, my brain refused to stay on script.
Every time the doorbell jangled, my pulse did the dumb cartoon thing, expecting Burke to barrel in with a joke and a grin. He hadn’t replied to my text last night. Not with a joke, not with a winky face, not with anything. But that was par for the course. Alphas were busy. Had lives. Had—if Dennis was any indication—rough priorities.
Still. I’d half hoped.
I was elbow-deep in a shelf-reset, reordering lag bolts by diameter, when the bell finally tripped. I didn’t look up right away, but the shift in air pressure, the sudden ozone-crackle of something alive, told me it was him before I saw the boots.
Then the voice: “Excuse me, sir, but do you know if these screws come in a less—uh, manly finish?”
I turned, already smiling, and there he was. Burke, in a battered leather jacket that made him look even taller, if that was possible. He leaned on the cart like it was an extension of his own body, eyes locked on me with an intensity that made it impossible to look away. If anything, the scent—sharp, foresty, edged with new-cut hay—was stronger than before.
My knees went soft.
He waggled the tiny cardboard box in my direction. “I’m trying to break a gender stereotype, but these are giving me flashbacks to drill camp.”
I tried to keep my voice level. “We have them in ‘zinc-plated’ or ‘stainless,’ if you don’t want to risk splinters.”
He brightened. “Stainless! That’s what my parole officer recommends.”
I barked a laugh before I could stop myself. Burke’s smile widened, the lines around his eyes crinkling. “Knew you had a sense of humor in there somewhere,” he said, and my heart did another traitor somersault.
I found the box he wanted and handed it over, letting our fingers touch for a split second longer than necessary. He didn’t pull away. If anything, he leaned in.
“You get my text?” I asked, too low for the other customers to overhear.
He didn’t break eye contact. “I did,” he said. “And I wrote out a reply. Six times. But they were all—” he broke off, searching for the word, “—lame.”
I shrugged. “I don’t get a lot of texts, so even a lame one would’ve made my day.”
Burke’s expression softened. “Noted for next time.”
I bagged the screws, doing my best not to let my hands shake. “So. What are you building?”
He hesitated, as if caught. Then he dropped his voice, conspiratorial: “Honestly? I just wanted an excuse to see you again. The greenhouse is already up. I finished it this morning.”
I felt my face heat. “You could have just… come in.”
He made a show of glancing around, as if checking for eavesdroppers. “What, and risk looking desperate in front of all these discerning locals?” He raised an eyebrow. “I have a reputation to uphold.”
“Yeah, wouldn’t want them to think you were here to flirt with the hardware guy.”
“Flirting?” Burke put a hand over his heart, mock-offended. “Danny, this is serious research. I have two omegas back at the ranch who will riot if the ventilation on that greenhouse isn’t optimal.” He leaned closer. “If I flirt, you’ll know.”
The heat in my cheeks went from simmer to full boil. I ducked my head, pretended to ring up the purchase, and hoped nobody else noticed.
But someone did.
Two ladies from the quilting club gave us matching side-eye from the end of the aisle. I could practically hear the gears grinding behind their polite smiles. One of them—the judgey one with the church-lady perm—made a small “tsk” noise, barely audible.
My ears burned.
I’d lived in Black Butte my entire life and I could count on one hand the number of openly queer couples that lasted longer than a month before the town shamed them into hiding or running.
Burke seemed not to care. He straightened, paid cash, and winked as he handed me the bill. “You ever need backup for the tomato wars, you know where to find me,” he said, loud enough for the ladies to hear.
