2. Dakota
Dakota
F ruit snacks.
When I thought about what my undoing in this life would be, never in a million years would I have thought that fruit snacks would be part of it.
Maisie…My sweet little four-year-old daughter had been possessed by a demon.
There was no other explanation for the catastrophic meltdown happening back at the ranch. Somehow, one of us had bought the wrong treats, and our tired little terror was having none of it.
We had tried all the usual tactics. Comforting her, reading books, cuddles—but no.
Berry Bunny fruit snacks were the only acceptable answer.
Usually, we wouldn’t give in to a temper tantrum, no matter how painful it was for us—because that was just asking our sweet Maisie to grow up to be an entitled asshole.
This was different, though. Nothing could console her but her favorite treat, so I had offered to go on a hunt for the correct fruit snacks.
Nodding at Darlene, the sweet middle-aged woman who my daddy went to high school with and who ran the register, I made a beeline for the snack aisle.
Grocery stores were a melting pot of scents, given all the people who wandered through, and usually I wasn’t fond of that, but this time there was a sweet scent that was more obvious than the others.
Sweet floral, almost painfully so, with a subtle fruity hint. It wasn’t cloying—quite the opposite. It was inviting.
As an alpha, my world revolved around scents.
The scents of my pack mates were home to me, comforting me at my lowest points.
Pack mates didn’t have to smell good to each other, technically, but what man would form a pack with another male who smelled like wet socks?
No sane man wanted to spend the rest of his life sniffing that.
Now, omega scents were different.
I had never met an omega who didn’t smell good. Their scent was meant to attract alphas—it was a crucial part of their designation—and we, in turn, were hard-wired to protect omegas.
Every now and again, though, an alpha would find an omega whose scent was simply perfect—nothing could compare—and the feeling would be mutual.
Scent matches. That’s the term people used to refer to these insane relationships where a scent would be so damn appealing that it addled their minds and they couldn’t think of anything else. Scent-matched packs were some of the strongest out there, and more importantly, the happiest.
Though the idea of destined scent matches was romantic, I wasn’t convinced they were entirely real. Sure, some omegas could smell extra good, but enough to make your brain turn to goo and lose all reasoning?
Still, deep down, a small part of me wanted that for myself. The life of four ranchers alone with a toddler wasn’t lonely, by any means, but there was still that small something missing from our lives.
As I turned the corner to the shelves of snacks, my mind lost in a sweet fog, my gaze was immediately caught by a tiny woman reaching up on tiptoes to grab something off the top shelf.
Her fingertips were barely brushing against the bag of cookies that had been pushed to the very back, way above her head. With every reaching grasp, her sundress rode up, exposing more of her legs. I couldn’t decide if I should keep watching, or hide her so no one else would.
Thick, dark russet waves fell down her back in a haphazard ponytail with most of the tendrils already escaping. Her face was full of concentration as she desperately tried to retrieve her snack.
Plastering a smile on my face, I strode up to her, reaching over and plucking the bag of goodies off the top shelf with minimal effort.
Compared to me, this omega was tiny, her head barely reaching the middle of my chest.
Adorably pocket sized. I hadn’t even properly met her yet, and I was obsessed.
“Hey, there,” I said, emphasizing my country accent a little more than usual—since girls from out of town seemed to love that. She clearly wasn’t a local—everyone knew everyone around here, so newcomers were easy to spot.
As I reached over her, I sucked in a lungful of her delicious floral fragrance that had me weak in the knees.
So, she was the source of that scent.
Who was she, and what was she doing in Sweetwater Springs?
“Oh! Thank you!” She glanced up at me, her eyes wide as she took in my sheer size.
I may have puffed up my chest in pride just a little at her awe.
“The least I can do! I’m Dakota Flint—and you are?”
“Piper Collins.” Her voice was breathy, and my mind went straight to the gutter. How would she sound moaning my name in that same wispy tone?
She was beautiful, with a smattering of freckles across her face and a button nose. Her pale green sundress was both demure and somehow filthy. What was it with sundresses? They were cute and innocent, but at the same time, invoked thoughts that were far from innocent.
It had been a while since I’d had a little fun. Occasionally, I would go to the local watering hole and find a girl to keep me company for a night, but I couldn’t remember the last time I’d ventured out. Fatherhood had been my only priority.
“Beautiful name,” I complimented, remaining in her personal space.
Her scent was magnetic, and the thought of moving away from it made my gut churn uncomfortably. I wanted to stick by her side like glue, pull her into my arms and see where that sweet scent was strongest.
Judging by the way her eyes widened as she took me in, her nose flaring as she scented me, her pupils dilating and her own scent blooming—she also very much liked what she was smelling from me.
She clutched the bag of snacks to her chest, her eyes never leaving me. “These shelves are too high,” she muttered, making me laugh.
“You’re just vertically challenged.” I shrugged, a shit-eating grin on my face.
“Maybe you’re just freakishly tall,” she pointed out.
That should have been the end of our interaction. It was time for me to turn around, give her a little nod, maybe call her ma’am in my most charming voice, then leave.
Only—I didn’t want to.
My deeply ingrained alpha instincts were screaming at me to stay.
They were also telling me to scoop up the adorable omega, take her home and keep her forever, but I had a feeling she wouldn’t be the most agreeable to that idea.
It was a shame, really.
For another awkward moment, we both stood there, staring at each other like a pair of moon-eyed idiots.
“I… Well, thank you again. I should probably just…” She ducked under my arm, which was still resting on the shelf, and scampered down the aisle, a blush staining her cheeks.
Piper.
Beautiful name for a beautiful omega.
I should have asked where she was staying—-then again, that may have resulted in me tracking her down like a madman so I could get another hit of her scent.
Would she smell as good to my pack mates?
Despite being a pack and having similar tastes, we didn’t always agree on scents.
Montana had dated a girl briefly who I thought smelled like bad beef jerky, but he didn’t seem to mind.
That was the day I decided my twin had been dropped on his head one too many times as a baby.
As I woefully watched her retreat, my eyes landed on the colorful box that was the current solution to my problem at home.
With a sigh, I grabbed the box of Berry Bunny fruit snacks and made my way to the checkout, trying to forget that floral and fruity scent that already felt ingrained in my mind.
Sadly, the omega was already gone, and I hadn’t even asked for her number.