The downtown office of Reimagine Rios is quiet this mid-afternoon.
The four co-owners of the construction company, Wyatt Comeaux, Elias Gallo, Hunter Bailey, and Knox Winter, are sorting through bids they’re considering, so we’ve yet to start any building projects.
We’re a new construction company formed shortly after completing the condo down the street. That’s how I met them—or rather, how they met me.
They met on a previous project and became pack mates. Before we came to Rios several months ago, we were all traveling construction workers. Like most who enjoy this kind of work, settling down wasn’t a priority for any of us. But they met Maisie, an omega who was, for a short time, a waitress at the diner, and settled.
When we finished the condo, I had another big, well-paying job in Florida lined up. There was no reason I shouldn’t take it, except that voice in my head telling me I wasn’t finished in Rios yet. I didn’t know what that voice was until I ran into Rose Hayes.
It was the universe whispering for me to stay put, or I would have missed out on something most people could only ever dream of finding: their scent match.
“Heard you have a pretty woman moved into your house,” Wyatt says in a Southern drawl.
I look up from plans for a custom farmhouse, a proposal we’re costing for the client. It’s just one potential job, and we have a stack of bids to review, so there’s no need to rush. The people looking to hire us know how we work, that we’re good, and have decades of experience between us.
Four men stare at me from the large, rough-hewn table.
There’s little else in this office yet, just tools we’ve accumulated over the years in a couple of storage rooms, another smaller room that will probably be where Wyatt, as the de facto CEO, meets with prospective clients, a small bathroom, and this big central room with two large filing cabinets and a wall of frosted glass that looks out onto downtown Main Street.
By the front door is a small wooden desk and chair, where Maisie, their bonded omega, will work in the mornings when we go out to view a site. The chair is empty today. She’s at their home, a large farmhouse about thirty minutes outside of town, probably busy baking one of the pies that she and Nico’s Diner are known for. One of the biggest perks of this job, other than working with guys I like and respect, is the pies they bring into work several times a week.
Knowing it would be pointless to lie, I let out the weary sigh of a man who sees no way out of a conversation he’d been desperate to avoid. “I hate small towns,” I grumble.
Hunter, a former semi-pro surfer from California, grins at me. “Who's the girl?”
I consider lying, but I figure, what’s the point? All small towns are the same: everyone is a little too concerned with your business, and hoping to keep any secret for long is like wishingfor a snowball fight in the Sahara Desert. Mission in-fucking-possible.
“My scent match,” I quietly admit.
Clearly not quietly enough, because Elias Gallo, who’s sitting farthest away from me, narrows his eyes at me. “Your what now?”
“You heard me.” I set my pen down. They won’t let me work until they’re done dragging out all the information they want to know about Rose and me.
“Sothat’swhy you stayed in Rios instead of taking the Florida job,” Knox says, scratching his jaw. “And you rushed back from Wyoming pretty fast when we told you there was no need to.”
I was supposed to be in Wyoming helping at the ranch for three days. After two days, I had a desperate urge to come back to Rios, so I hit the road and drove practically all night. My brothers thought I was insane. For a hot second, I thought I was too.
Raking a hand through my hair, I lean back in my seat as my wooden chair creaks beneath me. “I didn’t know she was coming here. It just felt like I had unfinished business in town.”
“Unfinished business?” Wyatt’s lips twitch. “You sound like a ghost.”
“Fuck you.” I ball up a piece of scrap paper and toss it at him. He catches it and redirects it to the trash can beside the table.
“So…” Hunter drawls.
I give him a long look, pretending I don’t understand where he’s going with this when in reality I know exactly what this is about. Just because I work in construction, usually with more men than women, doesn’t mean they don’t like to gossip.
He wants me to spill when I’m still navigating my feelings after going from being a loner to having a pack and a mate with nearly two kids.
Ilikebeing alone.
People have expectations, and they like small talk more than I ever will. But since Rose and Ben moved into the house, there’s been more laughter and conversation than I thought I’d ever be comfortable with. Surreal in the best way possible.
“I’m not talking about it,” I tell Hunter pointedly.
“You didn’t need to rush back to work, you know?” Wyatt says, gesturing toward the table littered with papers and floor plans. “We’d have handled these bids without you.”
Flying would have made the journey to Wyoming faster and easier, but the only thing I hate more than crowds is sitting in a big metal object that can fall out of the sky. Give me a thirteen-hour road trip over a five-hour-long plane ride any day of the week.
