Chapter 5
Bea
The afternoon lull at the general store is supposed to be peaceful.
It's not.
I'm reorganizing the impulse-buy display for the third time, and my omega won't settle down. This is Honeyridge Falls—I expected today to go sideways.
Mrs. Henderson started the interrogation the moment I unlocked the register this morning, asking about "that nice deputy" approximately twelve times, as if I didn't already want to crawl into a hole and die.
Then River Brooks showed up during his lunch hour, smelling like pine and sawdust, and offered me an actual legitimate job using my actual degree.
Now he's gone.
His scent is still lingering in the store—pine and fresh-cut wood that makes me think of building things, creating something that lasts.
And when he'd leaned on the counter with those stupidly blue eyes, all steady and sincere while explaining he genuinely needed my marketing skills—not pity, not charity—warmth had pooled low in my belly.
I am NOT into River Brooks.
I'm just... appreciating his business acumen. And the fact that he sees me as competent instead of broken. And maybe his forearms. For professional reasons.
Except my body didn't get that memo. When he got close to the counter, my pulse kicked up. My mouth went dry. And I noticed when his scent shifted, that spike of arousal he couldn't quite hide.
Which never happened with Terrance. Not once in our entire relationship.
But it happened with Seth at the festival. And now River.
Great. Fantastic. Exactly what I need right now.
Did I even take my heat suppressants this morning? Because this—whatever this is—feels like my omega biology has completely overridden my common sense.
Gum. Batteries. ChapStick. I move them around like shuffling will somehow reorganize my thoughts too. It doesn't work.
The bell over the door chimes.
I look up.
Seth Monroe stands in the doorway holding two coffee cups and looking like he's reconsidering every life choice that led him here.
Oh god. Not now. Not while I'm still flustered from River.
His scent hits me a second later—clean rain and cedar and fresh-baked bread—and my omega responds immediately.
Where River's scent made me hot and restless, Seth's wraps around me like a warm blanket.
Comforting. Safe. The complete opposite of River's "I work with my hands and you should definitely think about that" energy.
My body doesn't care that I'm confused. It just knows: alpha. Good alpha. Want.
My hands grip the counter. Not helpful, body. Not helpful at all.
We both freeze.
"Hi," he squeaks. Actually squeaks. His neck is already turning red.
"Hi."
Painful silence.
My mouth goes dry. I can't stop staring at his lips. Those lips. The ones I kissed at the festival—tentative and careful before turning surprisingly hungry for one perfect moment.
Heat creeps up my neck. Stop it. Stop thinking about how he tasted. Stop remembering.
He shifts his weight, nearly spilling the coffee. "I, um. I brought..." His voice cracks. He clears his throat, tries again. "Coffee?"
I take pity on him. "You brought me coffee."
"I can leave. This is weird. I'm making it weird." He's already backing toward the door, movements jerky. "I just thought... after Saturday... but I'm sorry, I'll—"
"Seth." I hold up a hand. "Breathe."
He stops. Takes a visible breath. His shoulders are up around his ears with tension.
"Did you want to give me the coffee, or wear it?"
That startles a small, surprised laugh out of him. "Right. Coffee." He approaches the counter like it might explode, sets both cups down with exaggerated care. "I brought coffee. Thought you might... I mean, I wanted to..."
"Seth." I take one of the cups, and when I look at the label my breath catches. "How did you know my order?"
"Hazelnut latte, extra shot, oat milk?" He's staring at the countertop now, neck getting redder. "Ben told me."
I blink. "Ben told you my coffee order?"
"Yeah. After the festival, I came by your house to check on you." He's turning an impressive shade of crimson. "Ben came out and we talked. He mentioned the coffee thing."
My stomach does a weird flip. "You came to check on me?"
"I wanted to make sure you were okay. After everything with your ex." He still won't look at me. "Ben said you were fine. That you just needed time. And that if I was going to show up, I should bring coffee. Your coffee."
"And you remembered it down." It should be weird. It kind of is weird. But it's also stupidly thoughtful.
"I wrote it down," he admits, pulling a small notepad from his pocket and showing me. There, in neat handwriting: Bea - hazelnut latte, xtra shot, oat milk. "Didn't want to mess it up."
My chest tightens. "You made a note."
"I make notes about everything." He tucks the notepad away quickly. "It's—I know it's weird—"
"It's thoughtful." And it is. Stupidly, annoyingly thoughtful. "I just... I don't want you to think that Saturday meant—that we're—"
His face falls slightly. "About that. I'm sorry if I made things awkward. I know you were panicking, and I should have—I mean, I didn't mind, but—" His voice cracks. "Not that I expected anything, or thought it meant we were... together. Or anything like that."
Relief washes over me, followed immediately by something that feels suspiciously like disappointment. "Okay. Good. So we're on the same page."
"Right. Same page." His shoulders slump just slightly before he straightens them again. "Complete understanding. Friends who... had a weird moment."
"Exactly."
"Great." He's nodding, grabbing his own coffee just for something to do. Takes a sip, burns his tongue, tries to hide it.
I can't help it, I smile. "You okay, Deputy?"
"Fine. Coffee's hot. That's what coffee is." He sets it down quickly. "River Brooks was here."
The subject change is so abrupt I almost laugh. "Stalking me?"
His neck flushes darker. "I was patrolling. Doing my job. Saw him walk in."
"Uh-huh."
"So... what did he want?" He's trying to sound casual. Failing miserably.
"He offered me a job. Marketing and some stocktake work at the hardware store."
His expression softens—pride, maybe. Relief. "That's great, Bea. Really great. You'd be really good at that."
The quiet sincerity catches me off guard. "Thanks."
He checks his watch, fumbles it, nearly drops it. "I should... patrol. Sheriff doesn't like when I..." He edges toward the door. "If you need anything—not that you need anything, you're obviously capable—but if you wanted..."
He pulls out a card, drops it, picks it up, hands it to me with shaking fingers. "My number. For emergencies. Or not. You don't have to—"
I take the card. "Thanks, Seth. I'll have to thank Ben for the coffee intel."
Seth goes completely still. "I... don't think I was supposed to tell you that." His face turns bright red. "Ben's going to kill me. He just started telling me when I came by! He was being helpful. Supportive." He's spiraling. "Please don't be mad at him. Or me. I should have asked you directly—"
"Seth. Breathe. The coffee was perfect." I soften my voice. "I'm just going to kill my brother later."
"Right. Okay. Good." He's at the door. Pushes when he should pull. Corrects himself, even redder. "I'm leaving before this gets worse."
Then he practically flees, leaving me with perfect coffee and a brother I'm absolutely going to murder.
Mrs. Henderson returns, eyes gleaming. "Was that the deputy? With coffee?"
"I REALLY NEED TO REORGANIZE THE STOCKROOM," I announce, fleeing to the back.
In the blessed quiet, I lean against the shelves and wonder how my life became a rom-com without permission.
My scent is all over the place—cinnamon-apple sweetness with an undertone I recognize as attraction. Two different alpha scents cling to my clothes. River's pine and sawdust from when he leaned close across the counter. Seth's clean rain and cedar from standing near him at the register.
I should be panicking. Should be running for the hills like I did with Terrance.
Instead, my omega is content. Almost... pleased.
My phone buzzes.
Ben: heard River stopped by AND Seth brought you coffee. which one are you into? taking bets.
I'm going to kill my entire family.
By five, I walk into the kitchen to find my entire family at the table like an intervention.
"Sit," Mom says.
"I'm being ambushed." I drop into the chair anyway because arguing with Mom is futile.
"You're being loved," Papa corrects. "Aggressively."
Ben's grinning. "So. Two alphas in one day."
I groan. "River offered me a job. Marketing and social media for the hardware store. And Seth brought coffee. That's it. That's the whole story."
They all exchange knowing looks.
"Speaking of Seth's coffee," I add, glaring at Ben. "You gave him my exact coffee order?"
Ben's grin widens. "I was being helpful. Supportive."
"You were being nosy and meddling."
"He came by to check on you after the festival," Ben says, all fake innocence. "He was clearly interested. I gave him useful information. That's what good brothers do."
"Good brothers don't ambush their sisters with matchmaking schemes."
"Good brothers help awkward deputies who are clearly into their sisters but too nervous to make a move," Ben counters.
"Seth brought you coffee," Mom interrupts, that knowing omega smile on her face. "How thoughtful."
"It was friend coffee."
"Friends who've kissed," Ben adds.
"ONCE. By accident."
"You can't accidentally kiss someone, honey," Papa says, because apparently he's committed to making this as mortifying as possible.
"I panicked!"
"And landed on a very nice alpha's mouth," Dad supplies. "Good panic response."
I drop my head to the table. "Why is this family like this?"
"So are you taking River's job?" Mom asks, patting my hair.
I lift my head. "I don't know yet. Maybe? It just happened."
"What are you worried about?" Dad asks.
"What if everyone thinks it's pity?"