11. A Day Off
A Day Off
Jessie
The autumn wind whips down Main Street, carrying the scent of woodsmoke and fallen leaves.
I shove my hands into the pockets of my light jacket and stroll down the cobblestone sidewalk.
Taking a Saturday off offers a rare treat.
The town board hired a permanent receptionist and a certified vet tech.
The guys cook dinner for me, they fix my van, and they fuck me brainless.
They hold back on asking me to let them mark me.
They let me call the shots. Calm acceptance replaces the constant, buzzing anxiety that used to live in my chest. The urge to pack my bags and disappear into the night stays quiet.
I look at the colorful storefronts lining the street.
Pumpkins and dried corn stalks decorate the wooden porches.
Locals walk their dogs and carry canvas shopping bags.
Alphas nod in greeting as I pass, keeping a respectful distance.
The intense, oppressive pheromones that clog the air in major cities fade away here.
I tend to view small towns as a trap, a place where Omegas get boxed into domestic corners. Willowside breaks all the rules.
My natural vanilla and toasted sugar scent drifts around me.
Ditching the suppressants offers a huge relief.
The synthetic pills make my body ache, and running without them lets my system reset.
It serves as a test, too. Walking around an unsuppressed Omega forces the town and my Alphas to prove they meant every word about respecting my autonomy. So far, no one treats me like a burden.
I stroll past the local diner and a hardware store before a vibrant window display catches my eye.
Small wooden crates of autumn flowers line the entrance of a shop called Rose's.
Brightening up the dull apartment sounds like a great idea, provided the plants survive Winston.
I pull the glass door open. The bell above the frame chimes a bright note.
The scent of fresh soil, damp greenery, and sweet blossoms hits my nose. I step further into the warm space, scanning the galvanized buckets for cat-safe options.
Two women stand near a huge display of white roses. A worker rings up a customer at the cash register in the back, leaving these two to browse the arrangements.
One woman with warm brown eyes and light brown hair inspects a white rose, checking the delicate petals.
Her hair hangs down in loose waves, hiding her neck, but the ghost of a faded bite mark peeks through the strands.
Bearing a permanent bond keeps her natural scent muted and contained.
She still radiates absolute confidence. My own unsuppressed Omega scent flares a bit in response, a subtle vanilla greeting.
Both women look up from the display. They offer bright, welcoming smiles. A spark of recognition hits the brunette. She steps away from the flowers and walks over.
"You must be the new veterinarian in town." She extends her hand. "I'm Sophia. I run the wedding planning business down the street. I saw you at Luca's a couple of times. Luca is one of my Alphas."
"Jessie." I shake her hand, noting her firm grip. "I do my job. The animals around here love getting into trouble."
"Tell me about it." The second woman with bright red hair holds two cardboard cups of coffee.
She possesses a quiet, clever demeanor, her green eyes scanning me with keen interest. "I'm Lacey.
I do custom portraits for Sophia's wedding clients.
I'm tagging along today for moral support.
Her current bride wants a specific shade of white for the centerpieces, and the drama never stops. "
"I had a bride threaten to throw her Alpha groom into the creek because he ordered the wrong cake flavor before she hired me." Sophia laughs, shaking her head. "I need these flowers to match the tablecloths, or someone ends up in the hospital."
"Did she throw him in?" I cross my arms over my chest, hooked on the gossip.
"No, but her other Alphas tried to." Lacey smirks. "Omegas around here demand respect. We run a tight ship. And speaking of running things, you have a stellar reputation. My neighbor's reat Dane choked on an entire tennis ball last week. You saved him a ton of grief."
"That dog acts like a menace." I let out a dry chuckle. "He tried to bite my stethoscope."
I watch the two women operate. They exchange banter with ease.
They own their space. In the big cities, Omegas keep their heads down and hide behind their Alphas.
Here, Sophia runs a thriving business, and Lacey creates art with absolute autonomy.
They treat me like a peer and a medical professional.
"My Alphas know to stay out of my workspace." Sophia points to a gorgeous arrangement of autumn leaves. "Luca tries to help with the spreadsheets, but I banish him back to his own shop. You get that. You run a whole clinic by yourself. We respect a woman who handles her own business."
"I appreciate that." I lean against a wooden display table. "I prefer calling the shots."
"We all do." Lacey picks her coffee up. "That keeps the dynamic balanced. You have three huge guys trailing after you, but everyone knows you hold the leash. The town respects it."
A hot flush creeps up my neck. I process the implication. The town watches us, but they don't judge. They don't pity me for being an unbonded Omega running with a pack.
"I have a consultation at noon." Sophia grabs a specific bouquet of roses, heading toward the worker at the register. "But we get beers at the Lucky Road Bar on Thursday nights. You should come with us, Jessie. The first round is on me."
"I'm in." I offer a warm smile, the invitation settling in my chest.
I grab a bundle of sunflowers because I know they're cat-safe. I follow Sophia to the checkout counter, paying for the bundle. Waving goodbye to both women, I step back out onto the sidewalk.
The interaction leaves my mind spinning. The guarded, suspicious towns I navigated in the past seem like a distant memory. Willowside operates on a different frequency. This place offers a haven, and I fit right into the puzzle.
I leave Rose's behind, cradling the paper-wrapped bundle of sunflowers against my chest so the delicate petals avoid getting crushed.
I head toward the town square. Market stalls line the cobblestone paths, offering everything from fresh produce to handmade crafts.
I stop at a farmer's booth and buy a canvas bag full of honeycrisp apples and acorn squash.
I hit up a small coffee cart next, ordering a large black roast to cut through the morning chill.
I carry my groceries, my flowers, and my paper cup over to the large community park in the center of town. I find a sunny wooden bench near the playground and take a seat. I set my canvas bag on the grass, resting the sunflowers next to me on the wooden slats, and take a long sip of my hot brew.
The park packs in people enjoying the crisp weather.
Families lay out picnic blankets. Couples walk hand-in-hand along the paved trails.
I scan the crowd, my instincts on high alert out of pure habit.
I expect to see the usual bullshit. In other cities, Alphas posture and dominate public spaces, puffing out their chests and treating their Omegas, who probably aren't compatible, like property.
I find none of that here. The environment stays relaxed. Alphas chase toddlers around the swings, Betas read books on the grass, and Omegas lounge in the sun without a care in the world. The communal vibe staggers me.
A sharp tug on my canvas grocery bag yanks my attention down.
A toddler with sticky hands, wearing a denim jacket, squats next to my boots. She roots through my bag, determined to steal a honeycrisp apple. She looks about a year old, her unsteady balance a dead giveaway.
"Hey, buddy." I rescue the apple from her grasp, offering a soft chuckle. "Those aren't washed yet."
"Juniper, no!" A striking woman jogs over, her dark hair bouncing around her shoulders.
She crouches down and scoops the toddler into her arms. She has beautiful heterochromia, one brown eye and one green eye, and a frantic, apologetic smile on her face.
"I'm so sorry. She acts like a little thief today. "
"No worries." I wave her off, taking another sip of my coffee. "She has good taste in fruit."
A blonde-haired, blue-eyed male Omega jogs up behind her. He carries a diaper bag over one shoulder. He rests a hand on the woman's lower back, an intimate gesture of support.
"I turned my back for two seconds." He shakes his head, offering me a sheepish grin. "I'm Ollie. This is Sandra, and the apple thief is Juniper."
"I'm Jessie." I gesture to the empty space on the long wooden bench. "Take a seat. Wrastling a kid that fast requires a breather."
"You have no idea." A third woman walks over, holding the hand of a little boy. She has warm, tan skin, dark hair, and an exhausted expression. "Try keeping up with this one. I'm Ruby, by the way, and this wild child is Leo."
I recognize all three of them from seeing them around the clinic and the local shops. Sandra and Ollie sit on the edge of the bench, keeping Juniper contained on Sandra's lap. Ruby guides Leo to the edge of the grass and drops down next to him with a dramatic sigh.
Sandra bounces Juniper on her knee. "You run the vet clinic. My Alpha, Jethro, brought our new Lab puppy in a few weeks ago for his shots. He said you handled the little guy with a ton of patience."
"He's a sweet puppy." I smile, remembering the floppy ears and the happy wags.
Ollie leans his head against Sandra's shoulder. "That covers all we ask. The Alphas run the Lucky Road Bar down the street. It gets chaotic on the weekends, so they handle the floor while I balance the books."
Sandra brushes a stray curl from Juniper's forehead. "And I direct the Omega Safehaven in town. Coordinating programs and keeping everything organized takes a ton of work."