4. A Stormy Dinner
A Stormy Dinner
Edward
Iwalk out of the Willowside firehouse doors.
The crisp morning air hits my face, a welcome shock to my tired system.
A twelve-hour night shift means sitting around the station doing equipment checks and waiting for a call.
Small-town rotations offer a lot of downtime, but my muscles ache from the stiff station cots.
I need a shower and a solid eight hours of sleep.
But the exhaustion doesn’t even touch the restless, wired energy humming in my blood.
Three days passed since Duke pulled his highway stunt.
I haven’t slept worth a damn since we walked out of that veterinary clinic.
My inner Alpha paces a constant, restless circle in my brain.
Every time I shut my eyes, the memory of Jessie hits me.
Her capable hands moving over the muddy dog stick in my mind.
The dirt-smudged denim jacket flashes behind my eyelids.
I think about the guarded, stubborn way she planted her boots and held her ground.
We crowded her small lobby, projecting a ton of heavy energy, and she didn’t flinch.
I climb into the cab of my truck. The diesel engine rumbles to life.
Cranking the steering wheel, I point the tires toward the center of town.
I keep the radio off so I can think in the quiet cab.
Jake and Nolan clock in for their shifts soon, and our pack agreed to meet up for breakfast. We need to talk.
The unspoken tension between the three of us reached a boiling point last night at the farmhouse.
I pull the truck up to Luca’s bakery on Main Street. The brass bell above the wooden door chimes as I walk in. The heavy scent of cinnamon, fresh pastries, and roasted espresso beans fills the room. I spot my pack brothers in the back corner booth.
We aren’t related by blood, but the bond we forged over the years makes us closer than most kin.
Jake sits rigid in his dark blue police uniform.
He has broad, heavy shoulders, thick dark hair, and a rough jawline covered in dark scruff.
His silver badge catches the morning light.
Nolan sits across from him, wearing his neat teaching slacks and a crisp button-down shirt.
Nolan has a leaner, athletic build, neat brown hair, and sharp, intelligent eyes framed by dark glasses. Neither of them looks rested.
I slide into the squeaky vinyl seat next to Nolan. A teenage barista drops off a plate of massive bear claws and three black coffees. We ignore the food. Dead silence stretches for a full minute. The air at our table feels heavy with unresolved frustration.
I check the room. A few older locals sit two tables over, reading the morning paper. I lean closer to the center of our booth and keep my voice down.
“I can’t stop thinking about the new vet.”
Jake lets out a harsh, jagged breath. He drags a heavy hand down his face. “Fuck. Me neither. I sit in my cruiser and stare at the dashboard, trying to figure out what the hell goes on in my head.”
Nolan nods, pushing his dark frames up the bridge of his nose. “It defies reason. Our nature demands an Omega. She offers zero natural scent, yet my instincts want to earn her attention. I want to sit in her clinic and watch her work.”
“She smells like a Beta.” Jake grips his coffee cup.
“She drowns herself in that synthetic floral perfume. The rose and musk smell fake as hell. But underneath that chemical barrier, the attraction is strong. I just want to talk to her. I want to get her out from behind that desk and have a real conversation.”
I take a sip of the smooth black coffee. “I don’t give a shit about her designation. I just want to know her. She looked at us without an ounce of fear. Most Betas avoid eye contact with us. She stood her ground. She handled Duke like a pro. I want to figure out what makes her tick.”
Nolan sighs, tracing a slow circle on the table with his index finger. “A Beta gives our instincts nothing to grab onto. It feels like a dead end. Pursuing this means throwing out the entire plan. We give up the chance at an Omega and a traditional dynamic.”
“The plan feels like bullshit right now.” I set my mug down with a loud thud. “I don’t care about a dead end. I care about the fact that she treated three Alphas like a minor inconvenience. She fascinates me.”
Jake leans back against the vinyl booth, crossing his arms over his chest. “I keep looking for an excuse to drive back over there. I lose my mind over a woman I spoke to for five minutes.”
“The contradiction is maddening.” Nolan takes a bite of his bear claw, chewing with a thoughtful frown. “We know nothing about her except her name and her job. But she exudes this intense, independent energy. That alone makes my Alpha want to earn her focus.”
“So we agree?” I look between Jake and Nolan. “We stop fighting this? We accept the confusion and just try to get to know her?”
Jake nods. “Yes. I want to solve the puzzle.”
Nolan taps his fingers against his coffee mug. “We need to play this smart. She isn’t a local. She already told Jake she plans to leave in a few months. We come on too strong, she packs her bags and drives out of state. We earn her trust first.”
“He’s right.” I take another long pull of my coffee. “We dial back the heavy Alpha energy. We treat her like a neighbor. We show her we pose no threat.”
“Dinner.” Jake sits up straighter, a spark of energy hitting his eyes.
“I get off shift at four. Nolan finishes at the high school by three. Edward, you swap your night rotation with a rookie. We catch her right as she locks the doors for the day. We bring her dinner and frame it as a proper thank you for keeping the dog off the interstate.”
I nod, a tight, anticipatory grin spreading across my face. “Perfect.”
The late-summer sun sits low on the western horizon, casting long shadows across the asphalt in the clinic parking lot.
I kill the engine of my truck, pull the keys from the ignition, and shove them into my denim pocket.
The cab smells like roasted turkey, bacon, and fresh diner fries.
I grab the grease-stained brown paper bags off the passenger seat.
I bought enough grub at Lucky Road Bar to feed a damn football team.
Jake parks his personal truck in the empty spot next to me. He ditched his police uniform, swapping the badge and heavy belt for a comfortable gray t-shirt and jeans. A second later, Nolan pulls his sedan in on my other side.
We step out into the evening heat and meet up on the concrete sidewalk.
We timed this perfect. Jake finished his patrol route, Nolan graded his last stack of papers, and I called in a favor to swap my night shift with another firefighter.
We have the entire evening free. I haven’t seen her in three days, but the anticipation burns a hole in my chest. My blood hums with a restless, demanding energy.
We spent breakfast talking ourselves in circles, and now I just want to see her face again.
I glance up. The bright blue sky takes on a bruised, dark tint. A severe storm is brewing. The clouds look heavy and mean, the kind that dump massive hail and rip shingles off roofs. But my mind remains too focused on the woman inside the building to give a shit about the weather forecast.
We walk side-by-side up the concrete path. Jake reaches for the glass door and pulls it open. The brass bell chimes, announcing our arrival.
The moment I cross the threshold, the sterile, stinging smell of bleach hits my nose.
Right beneath it, I catch that synthetic floral perfume.
It smells like cheap air freshener, cloying and abrasive, masking whatever natural scent she possesses.
But the second I inhale it, my chest tightens.
The physical draw hits me hard. My inner Alpha wakes up, buzzing with a heavy, protective urge.
It demands I step closer, claim her attention, and keep her safe.
The clash between her Beta scent and my intense attraction makes zero sense, but I accept it.
I stopped fighting my own instincts hours ago.
I look toward the reception desk.
There she is.
Jessie looks up from the computer monitor.
Her dark hair sits pulled back in a bun.
She wears her dark scrubs like a suit of armor.
Her posture straightens, her shoulders squaring off the second she spots us.
The exact same soul-deep pull yanks at my center.
The attraction the other day wasn’t a fluke.
It feels like a living, breathing thing in the room with us.
She looks exhausted but capable, and it makes me want to pull the heavy workload right off her shoulders.
I want to pull the pins from her tight bun and see how long her hair gets.
The lobby sits dead quiet. A corkboard covered in faded lost-pet flyers hangs on the far wall.
The lack of support staff is obvious. She manages this entire place by herself, and the sheer competence of that makes my attraction spike.
She doesn’t need us, and that fierce independence drives my instincts wild.
I take the lead this time. I want to show her we bring no threat.
I walk right up to the laminate counter, flashing her my easiest, most genuine smile.
I set the heavy brown paper bags down on the desk between us.
The scent of roasted meat and hot fries fills the sterile space, overpowering the bleach.
“Evening, Doc. We couldn’t let your good deed go unrewarded. We brought you dinner.”
I keep my voice low and warm. I make sure to keep my shoulders relaxed, leaning my weight against the high counter so I don’t tower over her workspace.
I force my Alpha energy to dial back. I refuse to intimidate her in her own clinic.
I want to reach across the desk and trace the line of her jaw, but I keep my hands planted flat on the laminate.