Knot Just Animal Attraction (Crescent Lake Cozy Omegaverse #3)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Crescent Lake, California. Boy, have I missed you.

The transition from concrete and skinny palm trees to rolling green hills and lush pine is a long one, but when that mountain pops up above the horizon, blocking the rising early-morning sun, granting the peaks a glorious halo… I’m telling you, your entire body just relaxes, warm and comforted.

This is why, despite the circumstances, I’m very excited to return to the quaint town I’d spent every summer growing up.

After high school, though, my visits were fewer and farther between.

First, it was university taking up all my time, and then it was work.

In little over a decade, I’d been back to Crescent Lake only three brief times.

But that all changes now.

Just inside the northern city limits sits an old, modest farmhouse with more than several envious acres of land around it. That house had been my Uncle Jim’s. And now… now it’s mine.

I pull into the driveway and throw my SUV in park. The silence rings in the car for a few minutes as I just breathe.

Okay, let’s go. You’ve got this.

When I swing open the door, I’m greeted by a shout.

“Adley!”

I climb out of my car and find an elderly woman, about my height, with dark silver hair pulled back into a bun behind her head. My smile is big enough to make my face ache. “Lilly!”

I go to her, wrap my arms around her slight frame.

This woman who would always come check on me to be sure Uncle Jim wasn’t making me work too hard when I’d stayed with him.

The woman who would smuggle my favorite snacks into the house when Jim was on some new fad diet and didn’t want any junk food around.

The floral shop owner who taught me the meanings behind different flowers when I only cared about their beauty.

She pulls free of my embrace, but keeps our hands joined as she peers at me with sad blue eyes. “I can’t tell you how much we’re all going to miss Jim. Please, tell me if there’s anything we can do to help you.”

My smile is watery, my vision blurs. “I appreciate that.” The people here are amazing, but especially Lilly and her pack, all of whom made sure Uncle Jim’s ashes were delivered to my family in Los Angeles for his funeral.

That was their wish, not his. “Would you just give me the rundown before you go open the shop?”

Lilly leads me around the house from the driveway and gestures ahead with her arm. My eyes settle on fairly new-looking white paddock fencing around a huge area of the land. The bright red barn at the back of the area is definitely new.

I cast Lilly a questioning look.

She smiles and keeps leading me to the fence. When we get there, she raises her fingers to her lips and lets out one of the loudest whistles I’ve ever heard.

The sound stirs up a pounding I can hear but not feel yet. In a blink, a gorgeous brown and white horse starts running at us. The dirt his hooves kick up makes the horse look like a steam train as it barrels toward us.

Something trails the horse, obscured by the cloud of dust. My voice is hesitant. “Is that a baby horse?”

Lilly laughs, and I’m unsure of her tone right now. “Just hang on.”

In no time, the horse slows to a stop just in front of us, and I gape up at this giant creature, mouth opening and closing before I stammer. “I-I don’t know anything about horses. Like, I’ve never even ridden one before.”

“Don’t worry. Lloyd’s been taking care of these two, and he already has someone he trusts coming into town who’s willing to volunteer his time to care for them.”

There’s a lot to unpack there, but I’m stuck on “these two.” But only for a moment because the tiniest donkey I’ve ever laid eyes on—okay, the only tiny donkey I’ve ever laid eyes on in person—stands beside this specimen of a horse, and all I can do is squeal from the cuteness before turning back to Lilly. “Tell me what’s happening right now.”

She laughs again, but this time I’m pretty sure it’s good-natured.

“Well, I don’t know their stories, but each came in after their elderly owners passed.

Jim got Pie first, thankfully—oh, that’s this guy,” she pats the horse’s reddish brown side right where his markings begin to bleed into white and wrap around his back and upper hindquarters.

“Since Jim knew the horse needed a lot of space, he and a bunch of volunteers put up a barn and fencing like it was no big deal. Took three days.” She crouches down, and I cringe for her knees, but she seems in better shape than I am.

“Then Gator, here,” she gives the tiny white and light brown-spotted donkey a pat, “came into a pre-made home. These two are inseparable now.”

Back upright again, she sticks her hand into her jeans pocket. “These are your keys,” she says as she hands me a keyring. “Each is labeled, but I’m sure you’ll recognize the house key.”

I look down into my palm and immediately spot the worn, scuffed key, painted white with pink and purple flowers scattered across it.

My laugh turns to a sob almost immediately.

Like a kick to my chest, I see Uncle Jim and me standing in the small hardware store in town.

He needed a new house key, and let his eight-year-old niece pick the design.

“Great choice!” he’d told me with a wide grin when I handed him the uncut flowery key.

In twenty-two years, he never changed it.

How am I going to do this without you?

Another whistle, much like Lilly’s, makes me look over at the barn where Lloyd stands at the open doors, one arm raised high in greeting. I wave at him with a smile and watch as Pie and Gator hustle back inside.

“Lloyd is going to make sure everything is okay for those two for the rest of the day,” Lilly says. “His friend will be in town tomorrow afternoon, and he’ll come straight here. His name is Ezra Finn, and he has plenty of ranch experience. You’ll all be in good hands.”

I smile, but my gaze swings over to the old trailer just beyond the new paddock fencing.

I don’t know why it’s still there, especially so close to the pristine new barn.

It stands out like a sore thumb, stained and crumbling in the corners.

The roof probably leaks terribly. The outside is in a terrible state, and I can’t imagine what the inside looks like.

It’s probably filled with fun stuff like bugs and other creepy-crawlies.

I’ll have to deal with that another time.

After thanking Lilly and saying our goodbyes, I head for the house. It’s a two-story high ranch, the wooden shingles blue, the trim white. Some of the wood is rotting and needs replacing, and I’ll have to have this roof checked for leaks, too, eventually.

As soon as the key slides into the lock, a chorus of barks begins behind the door. I take a deep breath, let it out slow and smile before swinging the door open and passing through, closing it behind me.

The barks are loud, but not aggressive as I slowly walk through the entryway, not looking at the fluffy creatures crowding around me, no matter how much I want to.

I stay calm and positive all the way into the kitchen, where I place my keys on the tile countertop and slowly lower myself to sit on the tile floor.

I’m immediately swarmed by waggly butts and sniffing noses, my smile growing wider with every jingle of dog tags around me.

A little Boston Terrier with a slightly offset black and white mask makes herself comfortable in my lap, and I peer at the collar around her neck: REMY.

“Hello, Remy,” I sing gently as I pet the top of her head.

A giant fluffy head rests on my shoulder from behind, sniffing my hair loudly against my ear, and I laugh. “Hey, bud.” I scratch one big, floppy ear, turning to see the cutest light chocolate eyes, surrounded by all-black fur, save a tiny bit of graying scruff on the chin. The dog tag says CROOZE.

There are three other dogs around us, one that looks like an all-black German Shepherd, only a bit smaller in stature, another that’s small with big, pointy ears, brown with a dark face, and another small terrier, all black with folded ears, that sits quietly away from us all, watching with intelligent brown eyes.

Eventually, I rise and go to the back of the kitchen where the food and water bowls are, noting as I refresh all their water that there are two more bowl sets than there are pups.

The wooden cabinets in the kitchen are dark wood, all the appliances are black, the counters and floor are tan tile. The whole house is dark, like old houses from the 70s and 80s usually are. I wouldn’t be surprised if the wood paneling on the walls in some of the rooms is still there today.

I walk through the house, checking on the state of the place, opening blinds, and making mental notes of all the things I’ll need to do, like dust and vacuum, replace the old beaten-up couch in the living room, along with some other items. I’ll need to make an official list and prioritize while figuring out my business plan.

This was all so sudden. And now that I’m here, now that it’s real…

My breathing stutters, and I plop on the edge of the creaky couch.

You can do this, Adley. You have to do this. Not just for Uncle Jim or for the animals, but for yourself. This is going to work out.

I press my lips together and steady my breathing when I notice the black terrier watching me from the doorway into the kitchen, her curious brown eyes assessing me. That’s when I hear the tiniest meow at my feet.

There, sitting only inches away, is a small gray and brown tabby cat with little white patches around its face and ears.

At its feet is a fluffy blue ball with googly eyes.

I slowly reach my hand out with a smile and gently rub my fingertips along the top of the cat’s head, realizing he hasn’t opened his eyes.

The little tag on his collar reads ODIN.