40. Rosie
Chapter 40
Rosie
“O h, gods. Try this!” Quinn says, moaning as he holds out a cracker smothered in a thick cheese spread. “I’m buying two.”
I let him feed me, laughing around bites at the dramatic way he’s fawning over the cheese at this stand.
The booth owner eats it up, adding another sample to his collection on a napkin. “If you like that one, you’ll love this goat cheese and chive.”
“Yes! And yes,” Quinn says, turning back to the man and asking him to ring them up.
From living around omegas my whole life, I know enough to understand that no matter what denials he’s cooking up, his heat is coming.
He slept most of the day yesterday and only perked up for our weekly game. When we told our group we were together, they revealed they’d placed bets on it months ago. They teased us good-naturedly the entire night in the chat while Quinn and I played from our couch nest side by side. We ended up passing out on the sofa watching a movie before Dane and Nash carted us off to bed.
This morning, however, he’s been the Energizer Bunny. We woke up entirely too early for Quinn on a mission: donuts and the farmer’s market or bust. Honestly, he’s so adorable like this I can barely stand it. His—our?—alphas are so doting that if this were a scene from a comic, everyone would be walking around with heart-eyes. Proving my point, Nash adds the original herb seasoning and olive oil that brought us to this booth in the first place to the heaping pile by the register.
“I see we’ve found another treat,” Dane says as he catches up, his smile wide.
We lost him three booths back, where he was waiting to pay for Quinn’s haul from the woman selling fresh bread. I snake my hand around Dane’s arm and look up at the handsome alpha.He’s all preppy today, and something about his buttoned-up polo makes me want to mess him up a little. Before I can tease him, he pulls out a bag from inside another. It’s stamped with the label from the indie book-and-game store down the street.
“I saw these and thought you might like them,” he says, handing the bag to me.
I peek inside and find it’s stuffed with little goodies. My mouth gapes before I do a little shimmy. He got stickers—a couple of funny gaming jokes and a stalker mask—and a card game that looks like a complicated version of rock, paper, scissors, but it's zombies and sharks. At the bottom of the paper bag is an old-school friendship bracelet that spells “pack.”
His cheeks heat when I don’t say anything. “I know it’s not what you’ll wear once we make it official. We haven’t talked?—”
“This is all really perfect,” I say as I rise on my tippy-toes to kiss his cheek. “I already know where the stickers are going on my laptop.”
His gift is spontaneous and so very Dane. It’s thoughtful and sweet. Genuine—like he is.
Quinn sidles up to us, eyeing the bag. He gets excited when he sees what Dane has found. “I bet we could play next time we visit Grandma Lily and Mr. Blakey. Good finds, alpha.”
“Yeah, alpha,” I nudge Dane, my heart spluttering when he gives a bashful smile.
Nash circles my waist, his warmth at my back. “Are we close to your shop? I want to see your window.”
“Yeah, it’s that way.” I nod in the direction of Bambi’s, only slightly nervous for them to see. And by “slightly nervous,” I mean frogs are leaping in my stomach.
Quinn tugs on my hand. “Let’s go.”
* * *
Bambi looks between the alphas and me. “You didn’t tell them?”
“Nope,” I say, trying to bury my smile. “Nash saw them first thing, the big pervert.”
Nash laughs. “Takes one to know one.”
“True.” I shrug.
“I’m impressed,” Bambi admits, crossing her arms.
Lana pops her head outside the shop, the bell jangling above the door. “Hey, babes. That lady from the town council is on the phone.”
Bambi hugs me, whispering, “This pack looks good on you.” She waves to the alphas on her way back inside.
Nash and Dane are still trying to find all my little hidden “mushrooms,” even after Quinn and I spent at least thirty minutes touring the shop before he shooed me outside so he could make some clandestine purchase. There’s no telling what Quinn’s buying in there.
“You’re gonna design the float for the shop, right?” Lana asks, leaning against the door. “I think this is going to be awesome with the decades guide thing Bambi is building for customers and you designing a killer float. We got the theater, the brewery guys, and Tanzy to make one too. It looks like everyone on our street is doing it this year.”
“I’m thinking about it, but yeah, maybe.”
Quinn brushes past Lana, another two bags in hand. This omega is nesting so hard, and he doesn’t even know it. Bless his heart.
The smile that takes my face doesn’t have an ounce of chill. “What did you get?”
He gives me a mysterious look, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Wouldn’t you love to find out?”
He places the purchases from Bambi’s into another of his bags and tugs on my hand, pulling me along to the bench a little farther down.He throws his arms around me, hauling me closer until I’m snuggled into his side.
“Your creations are beautiful in every form,” Quinn says quietly. “I hope you know how talented you are.”
My belly grows warm at his praise. I kiss under his jaw in thanks, my hand resting on his chest. It’s a busy Sunday morning downtown, and we people-watch while chatting about nothing and waiting for the alphas.
Quinn runs his fingers over the bracelet Dane gave me, the touch soothing.“I like this, although I’d like two bond marks more.”
I suck in a breath, meeting his gaze. “You mean that?”
“I’ve been in love with you for years. I would have already asked to give you one if I could.”
What do I say to that? I probably look like a robot on the fritz after being given a data set that doesn’t compute. It isn’t a conscious decision to blurt out the truth. “Loving you is easy.”
“Same,” he echoes.
I do love him… I’ve been falling for Kelly for years, and being around him in person is just as easy. It makes it real. But it’s knowing exactly where I fit into this pack that’s confusing. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, except I think they’re serious about making this work—about me.
Deciding not to worry about the rest for now, I curl into Quinn’s embrace and enjoy all the floaty feelings his love declaration sends through me.
After a while, Dane and Nash come over with smug expressions.
“Tell me it's not twelve shroom dicks,” Nash says triumphantly.
“No can do,” I reply with a grin. “You know that means you win a custom piece of lingerie, fitted just for you.”
“Bring it on, baby,” Nash says without hesitance.
Both the alphas swell with pride, exchanging high fives and self-congratulations while Quinn starts with ideas for the lingerie he would like to see Nash in.
My voice rises above their celebration. “I’m gonna do the float. If you guys will help me. I know it’s a lot to ask, and?—”
They don’t let me finish rambling. I’m swallowed up in a hug, all of them asking questions a mile a minute.
I think my heart is in big trouble of being stolen completely.
* * *
I park on the far side of the parking lot in the closest spot to the side gate, hoping I can sneak in and out without drawing attention to myself.
The football field is sort of neutral ground, but being anywhere near the high school makes me itchy. It feels as if sneak attacks, little ghosts, and bad memories could pop up all over the place.
Checking the mirror, I adjust the little buns on my head, sighing when they don’t do what I want. My face is flushed from the dance workout class I just left, but at least I’m in a pair of tight high-waisted workout pants that make my ass look fabulous. Throwing on my pistachio ice cream lip balm, I try to psych myself up.
Grandma was drained from physical therapy today. Between that and worrying over getting this legal stuff to Dane’s dad on time, I’m not exactly in the best headspace to make an appearance in front of the crowd that’s always assembled at football practice.
I knew this would come up eventually. Football is Dane’s world. But I kind of like the bubble we’ve been in for the last few days, and I’d rather it not pop.
Since I was waiting on a document I needed to copy from the courthouse, I’m running late. It was either dropping these off to Dane at practice or making him come all the way home before bringing them to his dad’s. He even offered to send me to meet his father, but football practice seems like the least of all evils. I met his dad when I was a kid and even heard him lecture Dane a time or two after a game, and that man scares the shit out of me.
My phone buzzes from its holder, giving me momentary reprieve.
Kelly: Did you get what you needed at the courthouse?
Raven: Yup… finally! At practice now. Hoping to duck in and out without detection by the community fan club.
I send him a GIF of a puppy hiding its face with its paw.
He laughs at the meme, but then three little dots appear for so long I get nervous.
Kelly: You belong there as much as anyone, and I know he’ll be excited to see you.
Raven: deep sigh Rah-rah, I’m going. I got this.
Kelly: That’s the spirit!
Remember, we’ve been courting for years. We just didn't know it. It's not fair to compare your relationship with Dane to us.
Raven: I know. It’s me. I’m awkward.
Kelly: You’re adorable and completely capable of walking onto that field. Gotta go. Send me an update. Heading into a patient’s room.
Hearting his message, I sigh. Time is up on stalling. Grabbing the thick envelope and tucking it under my arm, I climb from the car.I’m hoping it’s what Dane’s dad needs to make sure my family’s threats are just that.
My secret side gate under the home field bleachers that Grandpa showed me ages ago still works, and I use it to duck inside the larger stadium.
I spot Dane immediately. He’s on the sidelines, talking to the man I know is the longtime head coach for Knotty Pines. They’re coaching the spring exhibition game together in a town send-off to the beloved man. Dane looks at home here, his stance confident as the two alphas study the players and bark commands.
Past the stands and around the curve in the track, I stop at the short gate. It gives me a perfect spot to watch from, and I take in Dane, this warmth growing in my chest as I watch him work. He was the reason I found the art in the game. That first time I filmed for my grandpa, I didn’t know what I was doing or where to even look. But about halfway through, I realized I just had to follow the ball—and that led me right to this man.
He must sense my eyes on him because he looks my way. I swear I can feel his gaze from here, that strange pulsing pull that seems to happen anytime I’m around the men of this pack.
Dane jogs to me, an appreciative smile on his face. He whistles when he gets near, taking off his hat and wiping his brow. “You better be wearing those pants later,” he says, his voice smooth and a little cocky.
“Guess you’ll have to find out,” I tease, my heart racing at the heated way he’s eyeing me.
He clears his throat, breaking his gaze. “Where you headed now?”
I pass him the envelope. “To check in with Nash about repairs at my house. Quinn likes cake, right? I thought I could bake tonight for his first day at work?—”
“He’s gonna love whatever you make, and that’s reason eleven,” he assures me.
“What’s eleven?” I ask.
“On my list of ways we fit,” Dane says all nonchalant, as though it isn’t the cutest thing ever that he’s actually making a list. The type A runs strong in this man.
“And Quinn being willing to lie over my baking prowess is number eleven?”
“No one said anything about lying.” He cracks a smile.
“Last I checked, you crashed out at two.”
“I’ve been keeping track.” Dane shrugs. “And your baking isn’t eleven. We can make that twelve, but only after I taste-test a batch of cookies.” He waggles his eyebrows. “With extra chocolate chips.”
“Deal, but now you have to tell me what eleven is.”
“Eleven is core values.” He taps his heart. “You take care of your own, and we do too.”
Well dang, that’s actually another one of his astute observations. “Yeah, I guess we do.”
He leans over the fence, curling his finger at me, his intent clear.“Let me also remind you of point number two.”
Looking around hesitantly, I find no one is paying us any attention.
He cups my face and nuzzles his nose against mine. “Thanks for stopping by.”
His words are full of pride, and even though he doesn’t say it, I know he knows this little trip was a big deal for me. Soft lips brush against mine. It’s chaste and only a moment, but I feel the kiss down in my toes.
Players on the field call out, “Get a room," in chorus.
My cheeks go up in flames, but Dane looks pleased with himself.
“I’ll bring these to my dad after practice,” he says, jogging backward before waving the envelope and turning back to the field.
“Thank you,” I call after him.
“Thank me by keeping those pants on,” he tosses back.
The entire way back to my car, I’m smiling like an idiot.