Chapter 3
Seth
Mrs. Henderson's cat is stuck in a tree again.
I've read this sentence four times now, and I still couldn't tell you which tree or what the cat's name is. My brain refuses to process words when my entire body is replaying what happened two hours ago.
The way Bea Wilson tasted. Cinnamon and apples and something uniquely her that made my alpha sit up and take notice for the first time in my life.
My fingers drift to my mouth before I catch myself. Again. I shove both hands under my thighs and glare at the computer screen.
Focus, Monroe. You're at work. You're a professional. You did not just have your first kiss at twenty-seven in front of the entire town with Ben Wilson's little sister.
Ben's little sister who used to be the popular cheerleader I'd see around town.
The girl who was always laughing with friends, confident and bright and if she was in my grade completely out of my league.
I remembered her—everyone did. But that was four years ago, when she was eighteen and leaving for college, and I was the awkward deputy who couldn't talk to women without stuttering.
She's not that girl anymore. And apparently, I'm not that guy either, because somehow, I kissed her back without passing out.
And now everything's different.
And now her scent clings to my uniform—cinnamon-apple warmth with an undertone of arousal that makes my pulse spike every time I move. Two hours later and I can still taste her. Still feel the way her body pressed against mine, all soft curves and desperate heat.
Twenty-seven years old, and one kiss has completely rewired my brain.
I type three words. Delete them. Type them again. My hand creeps back toward my face.
"You've got to be kidding me."
I jerk upright so fast I nearly tip my chair. Nate Thorn stands in my doorway, arms crossed. He's got about six years and thirty pounds of muscle on me, and right now he's wearing his "concerned partner" expression—the one that means he's noticed something's off.
"Working hard?" He doesn't wait for an invitation, just walks in and shuts the door behind him. "Or hardly working?"
"Just concentrating."
"On the same sentence you've been staring at for the last twenty minutes." He sits, studying me with the kind of patience that comes from being a senior deputy. "You've retyped it six times, Seth. What's going on?"
Damn it. "I'm fine."
"You keep touching your mouth." His tone isn't mocking—it's observation. "And you smell different. Like..." He leans forward slightly, eyes sharpening. "Is that omega scent on you?"
Heat crawls up my neck.
Nate's expression shifts. Not teasing, serious. "Seth. What happened at the festival?"
I could lie. Should lie. But Nate's been my partner for three years, and he's pulled me out of enough tight spots that I owe him honesty.
"Bea Wilson kissed me."
Silence. Nate processes this, his face unreadable.
"Ben's sister," he says finally. "The one who just got back from college."
"Yes."
"In public?"
"In front of half the town."
Nate leans back in his chair, and I brace myself for judgment. Instead, he asks quietly, "You okay?"
The question catches me off guard. "I—yeah. I think so."
"That's not exactly a confident answer." He's watching me carefully now. "Walk me through what happened."
I explain it. Bea looking panicked, her ex crowding her, the way she suddenly crossed to me and kissed me like her life depended on it. The kiss that started as desperation and turned into something that's been burning through my veins for the past two hours.
"So she used you," Nate says when I finish. Not cruel, just stating facts. "To get rid of her ex."
The words land hard. "Yeah. Probably."
"But you don't think so."
"Does it matter? She ran off right after."
"Or she was embarrassed about creating a scene in front of the entire town." Nate tilts his head. "Did she seem into it? The kiss, I mean."
Into it. My alpha side growls at the memory—her fingers tightening in my shirt, how she pressed closer when I deepened the kiss, that small sound she made. The scent of her arousal, unmistakable.
"She kissed back," I say quietly.
"That's not what I asked."
"She was into it." The admission costs me. "At least I think she was. But then she apologized and ran, so maybe—"
"Maybe she panicked." Nate cuts me off, voice firm.
"Seth, listen to me. I've seen you around women.
You're shy, you're awkward, you overthink everything.
But I've never seen you look like this." He gestures at me.
"You're wearing her scent like a damn cologne and you can't stop touching your mouth. That kiss meant something to you."
"It was my first," I admit, and his eyebrows rise slightly. "So yeah. It meant something."
Nate's quiet for a moment, and I can see him putting pieces together. "Twenty-seven and that was your first kiss."
"I've been focused on work."
"I know." He holds up a hand. "I'm not judging. But Seth, if that was your first kiss, then you need to be careful here. This girl just got out of a relationship. She's dealing with her own stuff. Don't set yourself up to get hurt."
The protective tone catches me off guard. Nate's not just my partner, he's been looking out for me since I joined the department.
"I know that," I say.
"Do you?" He leans forward, elbows on his knees. "Because I can see you're already planning something. You've got that look, the one you get when you're about to do something noble and stupid."
"I just want to make sure she's okay."
"That's the noble part." Nate's expression softens. "The stupid part is if you go over there expecting her to fall into your arms. She used you as a shield, Seth. Maybe there was something there, maybe not. But you need to go in with realistic expectations."
"I'm not expecting anything."
"Good." He stands, heading for the door, then pauses. "Look, if you're going to check on her, do it. Just be honest with yourself about what you want from this. And if she's not in the same place, don't hang around hoping she'll change her mind. You deserve better than that."
"I won't."
"And Seth?" He opens the door. "Next time you can't focus on work, take a walk. Clear your head."
It's not harsh—it's the kind of thing an older brother would say. Tough love wrapped in genuine concern.
"Thanks, Nate."
"Don't thank me yet. Thank me when you don't get your heart broken." He leaves, pulling the door shut behind him.
I last thirty-eight minutes before giving up on the paperwork.
The Wilson house looks exactly like it did two years ago when I stopped by to drop off Ben's forgotten toolbox from the station—white paint, blue shutters, a porch swing that's probably older than I am. Normal. Familiar. Not at all the kind of place that should make my palms sweat.
I'm halfway back to my patrol car when the front door opens.
"Seth?" Ben leans against the doorframe, surprise flickering across his face before breaking into a grin. "Everything okay?"
Too late to run now. I turn back, trying to look official. "There was an incident at the festival. With your sister. Wanted to make sure she's okay."
"Ah." Ben's grin widens as he steps onto the porch. "The incident. Yeah, heard about that one. Pretty sure the whole town has by now."
Heat creeps up my neck. "Her ex seemed pretty persistent. Just wanted to make sure he's not still bothering her."
"Terrance left town about an hour ago. Saw him packing up his car myself." Ben crosses his arms, but his posture is relaxed. "So she's safe from him, if that's what you're worried about."
"Good. That's… yeah. Good."
"But you really came to check on Bea." It's not quite a question, and there's something knowing in his eyes. "Not just about Terrance."
I meet his gaze. No point lying to Ben. "Yeah."
"Well, she's currently holed up in her room." Ben chuckles. "Won't come out. Think she's trying to pretend the last few hours didn't happen."
"Is she okay?"
"She's fine. More than fine, actually." Ben's expression turns thoughtful.
"Look, my sister's going through a lot right now.
Not bad stuff, just... figuring-out-life stuff.
She's got these big dreams about starting her own marketing business.
Knows it's gonna take time, money, a lot of work.
She came home to regroup and plan her next move. "
"That's ambitious."
"That's Bea." There's clear pride in his voice.
"She's never done anything halfway. Problem is, she's so focused on her goals that she sometimes forgets to let herself just..
. live. Feel things." He pauses. "Whatever happened today at that festival?
I think it caught her off guard. In a good way, maybe.
But she needs time to figure out what it means. "
Hope flickers in my chest. "I don't want to complicate things for her."
"You won't." Ben's grin returns. "Seth, I've known you since you brought your pet turtle to show-and-tell in first grade. You're a good guy. Steady. The kind of guy who shows up when it matters." He meets my eyes. "The kind of guy who'd be good for my sister, if that's where this is heading."
My heart kicks up. "I—"
"I'm not saying rush anything. Bea needs time to figure out what she wants. But between you and me?" Ben leans in slightly. "I saw the way she looked when she came back to the truck today. That wasn't regret, man. That was someone who just had their world tilt a little bit. In a good way."
"So what do I do?"
"Be patient. Keep showing up, not in a pushy way, just... be around. Let her see you're not trying to derail her dreams or pressure her into anything." Ben claps my shoulder, friendly and encouraging. "Be yourself. That's enough."
"I can do that."
"I know you can." Ben steps back toward the door. "And Seth? Next time you show up, bring coffee. Hazelnut latte, extra shot, oat milk if they have it. Shows you're paying attention. That goes a long way with Bea."
"Coffee. Got it."
"She starts back at the general store Monday morning, in case you need to know." Ben's grin turns mischievous. "Just got her old job back. You know, for official deputy business or whatever."
"Right. Official business."
"Exactly." Ben opens the door, then pauses. "For what it's worth? I think you'd be good together. You're steady, she's ambitious. You're patient, she's stubborn as hell. Could work." He disappears inside with a final wave.
I stand on the sidewalk as evening settles over Honeyridge Falls, Ben's words settling over me like a warm blanket. That wasn't regret. Her world tilted. In a good way.
I head back to my patrol car with something bright and hopeful blooming in my chest. The general store where Bea works is right on my usual patrol route. Pure coincidence if I happen to stop by Monday morning with coffee from Maeve's bakery.
Nobody's going to believe that excuse, least of all me.
But Ben said to keep showing up. Said I'd be good for her.
So that's exactly what I plan to do.
Because I've been playing it safe for twenty-seven years, and one kiss with Bea Wilson taught me something. Maybe it's time to stop playing it safe and start showing up for what I want.