Chapter 22 Beau
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Beau
I should mention how fucking sexy she looks. That little pink set clings to her in all the right places, the hem of her top brushing her waist, her legs bare where the shorts ride up when she shifts in the passenger seat.
It’s the kind of outfit that makes every Alpha instinct in me sit up and snarl “mine.” But I bite it back. I can’t let it show, not now.
Not when she trusted me enough to come out here.
So instead, I clear my throat and go the safest route I can find.
“Have you thought about joining the Harvest Festival this year? They’ve got the pie competition again. I swear, if you came up with one of your recipes, you’d wipe the floor with everyone else.”
She laughs softly, shaking her head. “Honestly, Beau? I’ve been so wrapped up in getting the café fixed up. That’s my priority. Competing in the festival feels like something extra.”
I glance at her, watching sunlight spill across her profile as the truck bounces down the dirt road. “Fair. However, if you do decide to join, I’d be happy to brainstorm flavors with you. Maybe even be your official taste-tester.”
That earns me a smile that feels like a prize. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, her green eyes glinting. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
The truck jolts slightly as we crest a hill, and she steadies herself with one hand against the dashboard. “By the way, where exactly are we going? I feel like we’ve been driving forever.”
“The other route was muddy,” I say, cutting the wheel onto a narrower path that dips into the trees.
“So, I took this one instead. Figured it was better than getting stuck in a rut with no one around to tow us out. But don’t worry, I’ve got a spot near Fernbridge Trailhead.
It’s still one of the best places for a quiet afternoon. ”
Her laugh rings out, light and incredulous. “Fernbridge? You’re kidding. That place is still standing?”
“Barely,” I admit with a grin. “But yeah, the cabins are still there. They get used now and then—mostly by partners who want a little privacy. Or Alphas and Omegas who…” I hesitate, then smirk at her sideways glance. “Well, who need a place to get nasty when the timing hits.”
She snorts, rolling her eyes but blushing just the same. “I know. Ryker mentioned he was working on repairs. Said some of the roofing was caving in.”
I nod. “He’s done enough to keep them functional. Not pretty, but functional.”
The trees part as we roll into the small gravel turnout near the trailhead. The air shifts the moment I cut the engine—cleaner, sharper, filled with the scent of pine and moss after last night’s rain.
She pushes open her door and steps out, stretching her arms over her head. The hem of her pink top rides up, flashing a strip of soft stomach, and I have to drag my eyes away before I start panting like a rookie.
“God,” she sighs, tilting her face toward the sky. “The weather’s gorgeous.” She tips her face upward, lashes catching the light. The sky is a watercolor wash of blue and pearl, the air carrying the sweetness of something just beginning—spring, hope, maybe even love.
“It’s too soon,” I quietly remind myself, quickly looking away.
“Perfect picnic weather,” I agree instead, circling to the back of the truck. I grab the blanket and the bottles of sparkling cider I packed earlier, then hand her the basket. “Here—if you don’t mind carrying that, I’ll grab the rest.”
“Wait.” Her voice stops me mid-step.
I glance over my shoulder. “What’s up?”
She hesitates, then blurts it out. “I slept with Simon.”
The words hit me like a fist to the chest, but not in the way I expected.
I don’t feel jealous, not exactly. More like my body registers what I already knew—her scent has been carrying a thread of him since the moment she opened her door this morning.
I smile slowly, stepping closer until I can tilt her chin up with one finger. My thumb brushes the faint mark at her neck, the one she didn’t bother to hide. “I can see that. And I can smell him on you.”
Her breath stutters. “You don’t mind?”
“Nope.” I shake my head, my thumb tracing over her skin again. “If anything, I’m more surprised it hadn’t happened sooner. You’re fucking irresistible, Wren.”
Her lips curve, relief flashing across her face.
I don’t get to say more because a sharp voice cuts across the clearing. “Careful where you’re headed.”
We both turn to see Elias Burke making his way down the trail, a canvas bag slung over one shoulder. He’s in his late fifties, beard streaked with gray, eyes sharp under the brim of his cap.
He’s been caretaker of these trails for as long as I can remember, the kind of man who knows every tree and every rumor in town.
“Morning, Elias,” I call, adjusting the blanket under my arm.
“Morning,” he grunts, giving Wren a nod before his eyes slide back to me. “Watch yourselves near the bridge. Boards are slick after the rain.”
“Will do.”
He keeps walking, boots crunching over gravel until he disappears into the trees. The air feels heavier for a moment, as if his presence has stirred the tension sitting between us.
I reach for her hand, curling my fingers around hers. Her skin is warm, soft, and grounding. “Come on. Let me show you the spot before anyone else tries to scare us off.”
She squeezes my hand lightly, and we step together onto the trail, the basket swinging at her side.
And I can’t stop thinking—no matter how this ends, no matter who she chooses, right now she’s here with me. And I’ll take that, for as long as it lasts.
The trail narrows as we cut through the trees, her hand tucked in mine, the basket bumping lightly against her hip. The sound of the falls grows louder the deeper we go, water rushing over rock, steady and strong.
I’ve walked this path more times than I can count, usually alone, always needing a place to clear my head after long shifts. Bringing her here feels like handing over a secret, and I’m not sure what that says about me.
We step into the clearing, and she gasps.
The waterfall spills from a jagged cliff into a wide basin below, sunlight catching the mist in shifting rainbows. The rocks around the pool are smooth from years of water and weather, moss climbing up their sides.
I drop the blanket and shake it open, spreading it across the grass with practiced hands.
“You weren’t kidding,” she says, setting the basket down. “This is gorgeous. How have I never seen this part of it?”
“Because most folks don’t bother taking the side trail. It doesn’t show up on the usual maps, and Elias doesn’t go out of his way to point people toward it.” I glance at her, smiling a little. “Guess you could say it’s my private place.”
Her green eyes shine as she kneels beside me, smoothing the edges of the blanket. “Well, thank you for sharing your secret with me.”
I clear my throat, trying to focus on unpacking the basket instead of how close she is. I set out the cider, a couple of sandwiches I had thrown together that morning, and the blueberry muffins Cora insisted on sending. Wren laughs when she sees them, shaking her head.
“She’s never going to give up until she gets that recipe from me.”
“Probably not,” I admit, passing her one of the drinks.
I sit back, letting the sounds of the falls and the faint hum of cicadas fill the silence between us.
But my thoughts are too loud. I watch her bite into a sandwich, watch the way her shoulders relax, and the words bubble up before I can stop them.
“Wren… about the café. Have you thought more about the repairs?”
She stiffens slightly, lowering the sandwich. “Why?”
I shrug, pretending to fuss with the cap on my cider. “Because I’ve been thinking—if you need help covering some of the costs, I’ve got savings. Not a ton, but enough. I could help you bridge the gap until you’re back on your feet.”
Her head tilts, those sharp eyes pinning me. “You’d just… give me money?”
“Not give, I’d loan you the money. Or whatever makes you more comfortable. I want to help. You don’t have to do this alone.”
She exhales, long and heavy, shaking her head. “I appreciate it, Beau. Really. But no. I can’t say yes to that.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t like being dependent on Alphas.” Her voice is steady, not sharp, but the words still land like steel. “I grew up watching my mom bend herself in half around my dad. I saw what it did to her. I swore I would never put myself in that position.”
I let that sit, my jaw tight. It’s not the first time I’ve heard something like it. Plenty of Omegas here don’t want to risk the weight of an Alpha’s control.
And hell, they’re not wrong—there are too many examples of Alphas taking advantage of their place in the hierarchy. But still, hearing it from her… it cuts deeper than I expected.
“You know that’s not me,” I say finally, voice low.
“I do. That’s why I’m saying thank you and not just walking away. But Beau… I don’t want to use you. I want you. There’s a difference.” Her eyes soften as she brushes her fingers along my forearm, a fleeting touch that sends heat rippling under my skin. “I’ll figure it all out. I always do.”
I swallow hard, nodding slowly. “Fair enough. Offer stands, though.”
“I know.” Her lips twitch in a small smile. “But maybe instead of stressing about money, we can revisit that Harvest Festival talk. Because now I’m picturing it—me entering a pie, you standing there heckling the judges.”
That earns her a grin from me, wide and unguarded. “I don’t heckle. I cheer aggressively.”
“Same thing,” she teases, scooting closer until our shoulders brush.
We sit like that, watching water crash down into the pool. Warmth radiates from her, and I can smell a mix of flour, sugar, and her own sweet Omega scent, threaded with the faintest trace of Simon still clinging to her skin.
My body aches to press closer, but I force myself to keep still.
“Did you have waterfalls back in Idaho?” she asks suddenly.
“Plenty of rivers, lakes, even hot springs if you knew where to look. But nothing like this.”