2. Something’s Different About Her
Something's Different About Her
Jake
Icut the engine of my police cruiser in the parking lot of the vintage red brick clinic. The motor ticks in the brutal afternoon sun. I pull the keys from the ignition and shove them into my uniform pocket. The sweat on the back of my neck dries in the arid breeze.
Edward’s heavy-duty truck rumbles into the lot a second later. He parks in the empty spot right next to me. The passenger door swings open. Nolan hops out, pushing his dark frames up the bridge of his nose.
We meet up at the front bumper of my car. A collective sigh of relief passes through the three of us. The call confirming our runaway golden retriever survived his highway stunt took a weight off our shoulders. Losing him to the interstate would wreck all of us.
We walk up the concrete path toward the front entrance. I take the lead, squaring my shoulders against the heat. I reach for the heavy glass door handle and take a deep breath of the crisp Colorado air. I pull the door open. The brass bell above the threshold chimes a bright, ringing note.
Stepping into the confined space of the clinic amplifies our presence.
We move as a unit. Years of backing each other up on the job and living under the same roof tie us together into a solid front.
A quiet, ingrained trust acts as a constant, grounding weight in my chest. We rely on each other for everything.
Our broad shoulders brush as we crowd the small waiting room.
The sterile scent of industrial bleach and old dog treats hits my nose.
I stop dead in my tracks just inside the entrance.
A woman stands behind the reception desk.
She rests her hands on the laminate counter, wearing a polite customer-service smile.
I take her in. She wears a messy dark bun, practical cargo pants, a black shirt, and a faded denim jacket smeared with dry dirt.
She looks rough around the edges, but she holds herself with a quiet, undeniable strength.
My Alpha instincts flare to life, catching me off guard. An undeniable urge takes root, pushing me to step closer. It demands I keep her attention focused right on me. It scrambles my focus, replacing my usual calm with a possessive interest.
The shift in the room feels thick and sudden. We stare at a woman who triggers a deep, unexpected draw. My pulse picks up a steady, hard beat against my ribs.
I step forward. I rest my hands on the high counter, planting myself in her space.
“I’m Officer Jake Hayes. I think you’ve got our mud monster locked up back there.”
I hook a thumb over my shoulder at the two men standing behind me. “These two are Edward Brestein and Nolan Pearson. We share a farmhouse out on the edge of town. They’re my packmates. Duke is our dog.”
The woman offers a polite nod, unfazed by our size or the energy we brought into the room. “I’m Dr. Jessica Smith. Call me Jessie.”
I take a deep breath through my nose. I brace myself for the intoxicating, sweet aroma of a compatible Omega. I expect honey, sugar, or fresh fruit to hit my senses and explain the intense reaction sparking in my chest.
I catch a cloying, synthetic floral perfume. It smells like cheap air freshener. Beneath that sharp rose and musk lies a flat, neutral scent.
A Beta.
I try to make sense of the heavy attraction sitting in my chest, but nothing lines up. Alphas don’t get this kind of instant, possessive urge for a Beta. We don’t feel a deep, instinctual draw toward a woman without a scent match. It breaks every natural law we have.
I shoot a bewildered sideways glance at Nolan. The guy teaches high school science. I can see the gears turning in his head, trying to process the contradiction standing in front of us. Edward shifts his weight, his heavy work boots squeaking against the floor. His thick brow furrows.
Her designation makes no sense, but the physical attraction remains potent. Lust pools in my gut. I stare at her, searching her face for any clue, any hidden detail to explain the chaos erupting inside my chest.
Willowside offers a haven for Omegas, but it still lacks a large pool of unclaimed ones. My pack spent years searching for a scent match. Now, a woman stands in front of me, setting off a deep hum of interest in my blood, and she smells like a goddamn Beta.
I consider the stress of losing Duke today. Maybe the panic scrambled my senses. I glance again at Edward and Nolan. They stare at her with the same intense, baffled focus. The pull is real.
Jessie projects a quiet, steady confidence that throws me off balance. She refuses to shrink back. Instead, her posture stays rigid and composed. She treats us with a cool, polite distance, ignoring the charged energy the three of us radiate into the room.
I pull my leather wallet from my uniform pocket. I slide my driver’s license across the laminate desk.
“Here’s my license. to confirm my name.”
I turn on my usual charm to test the waters. I lean in closer to the counter, invading her personal space just a fraction. I put on a bright smile. “Welcome to Willowside, Doc. Thanks for keeping the idiot out of traffic.”
Jessie glances at the plastic card, her expression flat. “Don’t roll out the welcome wagon too far. I’m just here for the short term.”
I frown, the smile dropping from my face. “Oh, really?”
“I do roving relief work.” She taps a manicured fingernail against the counter. “I cover rural clinics between permanent hires, handle staff shortages, or step in during natural disasters. I plan to stay three months max. Then I move on to the next town.”
The concept of her being temporary hits me with a sudden sting. A sharp pang of disappointment fills my chest. The thought of her packing up and leaving this town makes my jaw clench.
A faint, pink flush creeps up the side of her neck.
I reach out to take the ID back. Our fingers brush against the counter.
Her breath hitches. It happens in a microsecond.
She hands the ID back without making direct eye contact.
Those physical cues tell me a different story. She feels the pull, too.
The realization fuels a steady, hard curiosity. I want to see what happens when she drops the professional mask.
“Everything matches.” She turns away from the desk. “Let’s go get your dog.”
She leads us back through the clinic to the chain-link runs. Duke lets out a joyful bark the second he sees us. Jessie grabs the metal latch on the kennel. She lifts the lock and swings the chain-link door wide open.
Duke bolts out of the enclosure. He tackles Edward the moment his paws hit the linoleum.
I watch her; a genuine smile transforms her face, erasing her reserved customer-service mask. The sight sends a heavy ache straight to my chest. I want to see that smile directed at me. I want to get to know the woman hiding behind the desk.
Nolan crouches down to put on Duke’s collar and leash. “Come here, buddy. No more solo road trips for you.”
Nolan rubs the dog’s muddy ears, keeping a tight grip on the lead. Edward stands up and brushes a paw print off his jeans. He looks right at Jessie. His voice drops a full octave, a low, rumbling Alpha timber slipping into his tone.
“We owe you one. You saved our asses today.”
Jessie holds her ground, refusing to retreat or act intimidated by Edward’s size or his proximity. “Just keep him out of the road. That’s thanks enough.”
She maintains her professional boundaries without breaking a sweat. She steps to the side, gesturing for us to follow her back to the lobby. I admire her quiet strength. She holds her own around three Alphas with zero effort.
We walk back to the front desk. I reach for my wallet again. “What’s the damage for the impound and the exam? I’ve got cash or a card.”
Jessie waves a hand in the air, shutting the gesture down fast. “Put the leather away, Officer Hayes. I don’t charge an invoice for keeping a golden retriever off my bumper.”
“You run a business. We take up your time, we pay for it.”
“Consider it a public service.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “But take a piece of professional advice. If that dog clears your fences, you need to hook him up to a long lead when you leave him outside unsupervised. Next time he hops the property line, he might not meet a driver with fast reflexes.”
I appreciate her genuine care for the dogl’s wellbeing. It adds another layer of attraction to the pile.
We have no more excuses to linger in her clinic. I turn toward the door. “Thanks again, Doc.”
My eyes stay on her face for a long, searching second. I inhale deep, hoping to catch a slip of something underneath the perfume. I want a hint of a scent match.
I get nothing but roses and musk. The floral scent burns the inside of my nose. I push past the irritation, my brain still trying to find the source of the pull keeping my boots glued to her floor.
She offers a polite nod and returns her focus to a stack of paperwork on the desk. A clear dismissal.
The three of us walk out the front glass door.
The bell chimes behind us. We step onto the sidewalk in a collective daze.
The cool afternoon breeze does nothing to shake the heavy, lingering distraction she caused.
I stop on the pavement and look back through the glass.
I catch a glimpse of her dark hair before she disappears into a back room.
Edward and Nolan stand beside me, staring at the brick building. A heavy silence stretches between us. We just met a Beta who threw our instincts into a tailspin, and none of us have a damn clue what to make of it.