Page 50 of Secret Heart
“I didn’t realize they made synthetics.”
A corner of his lips flips up. “Not in most people’s income brackets, they don’t. They’re like that specialty lube that triggers an Alpha’s knot or lock when their partners aren’t Omegas.” He presses his lips into the palm of my hand. “It’s vanilla. The… the pheromone I purchased. I would always put a couple drops on my wrist before riding.”
Something warm and weighty spreads under my sternum.
“Did you wear it the night you won the buckle?”
He nods.
“Fuck, Triston,” I groan, pulling my hand out of his hold.
His eyes are wide when he twists to look at me.
“I want to lock you so damn bad right now,” I admit a bit ruefully. “And knowing it was my scent you craved while you were chasing your dreams only makes me want to do it more.”
He grins, and some of the fragility that’s clung to him since he came back to Creek Falls disappears.
I ease out of the Jeep and lock my arm with his once he’s on the sidewalk with me, palming his bicep. He’s only an inch taller than me, my extra height from being an Alpha and his more slight build from being an Omega making us nearly even. I press my lips to his shoulder as we walk across the street to the Haven’s mixed designation entrance.
There’s a few gasps around us, but Triston doesn’t stop or look toward the sounds at all. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a pair of women around my age—late twenties or early thirties—holding up their phones toward us.
Nerves rocket through me, but I swallow them down as we step into the Haven and away from the prying eyes on the street.
BEAU
Mom hands me both paper cups with a smile before grabbing the small pastry on the counter and giving it to Penny. She giggles as I perch her on the bar height table that overlooks Main Street. While she takes a big bite of the berry filling coming out the side, Mom leans against the table beside me and sighs. Her eyes scan over the Rustic Roast before they freeze on someone across the space. I don’t bother looking. It’s the corner Molly Bailey always occupies when she stops by for her coffee most weekdays. I’m sure this Friday won’t be any different. Her lips purse, and then she busies herself wiping crumbs from the counter beside Penny.
“You’re in the paper this week,” she says, her voice low enough it won’t carry beyond the table nearest us, currently occupied by tourists I’ve never seen before. “Don’t let Emily read it.”
Ever since she mentioned people had their phones out while she and Triston were in Jackson for his appointment onWednesday, I’ve been waiting for the news to break in Creek Falls. The Baileyshatethe Monroes, and Jessica gets way too much delight out of making life miserable for both Emily and Ethan. Two full days is honestly better than I’d expected. When Ethan and Brielle were seen making out on the Fourth, Jessica hadn’t wasted any time dragging Ethan through the mud over it. At least she’d left Brielle out of it, though there’s been some rough articles since then.
There’s no way Jessica will pull punches with Emily, though.
I grimace. “That bad?”
Mom nods, her lips thinning.
“It also includes Triston,” she says, continuing to clean up the crumbs Penny’s dropping. It’s her way of keeping her own reactions in check, a habit she picked up when Caleb and Hudson were driving her up the wall in high school. “I expect all of us are about to be inundated with questions. He’s the darling of the NBRA, the one every woman—and a lot of men—is hoping to end up snagging a date with.”
I swallow down a large portion of the coffee to keep from groaning.
As if on cue, Molly Bailey approaches Joan with a large smile. Her eyes, though, are shrewd as can be. Her heavily-highlighted brown hair is styled into the large barrel curls she’s worn since I was a kid, the ends landing just below her collarbones. Today, she’s wearing a yellow sundress with flowers embroidered along the bottom hem that hits a few inches above her knees. I turn and focus on Penny, using her dirty hands as an excuse to ignore Molly completely.
“Oh, hi Joan,” she says, her voice that fake sweet that makes me want to vomit every time I hear it.
I tune her out, knowing Mom’s more than capable of handling the thinly veiled jabs and snooping. My phone vibrates with a text, and I quickly swipe it open. It’s from Brielle.
Faedra said they’re just getting into town. They should be there any minute.
Thanks for meeting them for me.
I send her a quick text back to soothe the anxiety that’s clear in her words.
Of course. You rest with Naomi.
She sends back an eye roll emoji, and I can’t help but chuckle under my breath.
Don’t you start on me. Your brother’s done enough already, promise.
