Page 143 of All Packed Up

“So besides leggings and our shirts, what do you normally wear?”

Wendy smirked. “Leggings and my own shirts.”

The alpha huffed out a laugh, and between him and the taller racks of clothes, she relaxed.

Eventually she compiled a collection of clothes and headed for the dressing room. Unfortunately, it was a miss on most of them, and she huffed, disappointed as she restrung them on hangers and exited the stall.

Where did Griffith wander off to? Wendy wondered and reached to hang her discards on the rack outside the dressing rooms. It was full and she pushed aside the other clothes, hangers shrieking in protest.

And screamed as someone jumped out at her, heart leaping into her throat and stomach dropping like a stone.

Part of her realized it was just a child hiding in the clothes rack, playing a prank. But her heart still raced as if Derek himself was in front of her.

For a split second, she thought they’d found her.

“Wendy?” Griffith called, voice booming through the store as he rounded the corner, in search of whatever caused her distress.

Sucking in a harsh breath, Wendy waved a hand at the women who’d jerked their head in her direction to see what the hell her problem was.

The kid peered up at her with a shit-eating grin.

“I’m fine, sorry,” she whispered when Griffith made it to her side only a second later. She leaned into the hand he placed on her back.

Others were beginning to stare, and she did not like their attention on her.

“Jacob!” someone snapped, and the kid still snickering went pale before a hand appeared through the clothes on the other side, grabbed him by the upper arm, and dragged him out of the rack. “What do you think you’re doing? You’ll give someone a heart attack!”

Her gaze dragged guiltily to Wendy over the very top of the rack. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry about that, he was supposed to stay by the cart,” she explained, voice hardening at the end as she glared at the guilty party of one.

“Wendy.” Grif’s voice was quiet by her ear, and she jolted, realizing she’d never answered the lady.

“Yeah, yeah! It’s fine, no problem,” she said on autopilot, pulse rushing in her ears.

Before the lady could say anything else, Wendy turned her back and escaped the conversation before anyone could draw attention to her welling eyes. The dressing room was close, and she aimed for the one she’d just vacated, pushing it open and—

Griffith crowded in the small room with her and shut the door behind them, locked it.

“Oh, great,” she said. “Now you can see my blotchy cry face under all this perfect lighting,” she grouched, blinking against the bright white bulbs lighting the mirrors placed along each wall.

“I just need a minute,” she panted, staring at her shoes. She didn’t want to see her reflection, shook her head. “Sorry, it’s so stupid, he just scared me. It was just a little prank.”

And yet here she was, freaking the fuck out. She was frustrated with her own emotions, embarrassed. She tucked her shaking hands in her pile of clothes. Griffith reached out and stole the garments, piling them on one of the corner tables.

Griffith didn’t say anything, and he was probably wondering why the hell he’d agreed to bring her out, and—

The big alpha wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a hug before she could protest.

His arms were tight, secure, and his scent was thick like honey. It was comfort and familiarity baked in a sweet musk, and she finally gave in, her arms winding around his waist and tightening.

“For a second there…” she began.

Wendy shivered, and he stroked his hands over her back.

“Why would he do that?” she questioned, though she knew it was just a distraction. “Why would someone want to scare strangers? It’s so mean. I know he’s just a kid and he didn’t mean it, but in the second he jumped out at me I just—all I could think was—”

“Hey, hey,” Griffith soothed softly. “It’s okay,” he urged. Her thoughts bumbled around in her head, unfocused and overwhelming.

She was feeling things again, too big for her chest to handle, too big for her to understand. All she knew was that it wasn’t fair. Nothing was fair. “I can’t even go shopping like a normal person at ten AM on a Tuesday because of those fucking alphas,” she spat, though it came out in a muffled sob.