Chapter 2 Garrick
GARRICK
Ishould've known it'd be Meredith Blackwell.
Eight o'clock sharp. Just like every damn morning. Low heels clicking, that powder-blue cardigan, already talking before she's through the door.
I'm pulling scones from the display case, but I'm not listening to her church committee bullshit.
Because that beat-up Ford is parked outside. Like a rusty middle finger aimed right at my storefront.
"Good morning, Garrick, dear," Meredith says, but her attention dart straight to the windows. "One maple pecan scone and a large coffee with two sugars and a splash of cream, please."
Of course she's looking. Of course she's already got questions.
"Coming right up," I mutter. Flour still cakes my hands from this morning's batch. T-shirt sticks to my back from the ovens.
Should've figured Meredith would notice the car.
She’s already drifting toward the window, adjusting her glasses like she’s about to bust a kid for skipping homeroom. That look’s legendary…and unfortunately effective.
Violet’s out there. Curled up like she's got nowhere else to go.
Not my problem.
Meredith's mouth purses. "Garrick, dear, there's a woman sleeping in that car out there. Has been since I drove past on my way to morning yoga. Is she alright?"
I focus on the scone. Don't look outside again.
But I do. Violet's awake now. Sitting up with her knees pulled to her chest, arms wrapped around her legs. Hair's a mess. Breath fogging in the cold.
Stubborn little thing is probably freezing her ass off and too proud to admit it.
Good. Maybe the cold will convince her to move along.
"I thought the same thing when I heard her sing." I yank Meredith's scone from the case too hard and crumbs scatter across the tissue paper. "Trust me, she's fine. Just passing through."
Wait. There's already a scone in the bag.
Shit, I really need to get it together.
"She sings?" Meredith's eyebrows shoot up. Hands clasped like she found Christmas morning. "Oh, how wonderful! We've been desperately needing a new voice for the church choir."
I pour her coffee. Two sugars, splash of cream. Muscle memory. Easier than dealing with that matchmaking look she's getting.
"She's not joining your choir, Meredith."
"Well, why not?" Meredith's at the counter again. "Fresh blood is exactly what our little community needs. I'll pop out there and introduce myself…”
"No."
My grip tightens on the coffee cup. Cardboard crumples.
Meredith steps back, with her hand to her throat.
"Look, she's an omega. A cranky one and wants to be left alone."
Not exactly true. Woman made it clear she's got an attitude problem and no respect for people trying to run a business. But Meredith doesn't need to know that.
“A grumpy omega, you say?”
There’s a pause. Then a smile spreads—slow and satisfied, like she hit the matchmaking jackpot. “You know, dear, you’re quite grumpy yourself. Perhaps you two belong together.”
The bell chimes and Frank shuffles in.
Good. I grab his usual without asking. He nods, pays, takes it, leaves.
"No." I set her coffee down hard enough to slosh it. Coffee spills over the rim, darkening the cardboard. "She's rude, and thinks I'm some kind of monster, because I don't appreciate being woken up by someone howling loud enough to wake the dead."
"You're probably dramatizing it."
"Go ask her yourself and see."
Meredith taps one manicured finger against her chin. "Maybe she needs the right teacher. I've worked miracles with tone-deaf children before."
The brass bell chimes again, with Xaden jogging in, still breathing hard from his run. Hair plastered to his head with sweat, wearing those ridiculous shorts despite the cold.
At thirty-two, he moves like the soldier he used to be. Every step deliberate.
"Morning," he says, grabbing a water bottle from the cooler.
Great. Now I've got two people who'll want to stick their noses in my business.
"Morning, Garrick. Meredith." Xaden's breathing hard but his eyes are already scanning, taking everything in like he always does.
"What's with the woman sleeping in the car outside? Been there since I started my run."
"She's not sleeping. She's sulking."
Xaden raises an eyebrow.
"Garrick tried talking to her," Meredith chimes in. "Now he keeps putting extra scones in my bag and spilling coffee."
“All I did was told her to move the car. She didn’t like that.” I scrub at the counter even though it’s already clean. “Crawled into the backseat like she plans to hibernate.”
Xaden leans against the display case. “Really?”
“I didn’t yell.” I toss the rag in the sink. “Didn’t growl. Barely even scowled and she acted like I kicked her damn puppy.”
Xaden laughs and Meredith’s smirking like she already knows how this’ll end.
A few regulars have wandered in, and none of them are in a hurry to order, just pretending to browse while they listen. Town thrives on gossip.
I focus on straightening the pastry display. Don't need to justify myself to anyone.
Xaden wipes water off his chin, still grinning. “You can’t do normal human interaction. Especially with women.”
“Fuck you.”
Xaden's been calling me on my crap for three years now. Doesn't mean I have to like it.
"So what's her story?" Xaden nods to the window. He's finished his water and is now doing those subtle stretches that runners do, rolling his shoulders and flexing his calves. "Car trouble? Running from something? Both?"
"How should I know?" I toss the cleaning rag into the sink with more force than necessary, the wet fabric slapping against the stainless steel.
"Like I said, she wasn't interested in conversation.
She sang her lungs out at four in the morning and then give me attitude when I suggested she move her piece of junk before it exploded all over my storefront. "
"Did you ask her name?"
I pause, my hands stilling on the counter. “Violet.”
I lie. Shit, I didn't ask her name, but she gave it to me anyway.
"Did you tell her yours?"
Another pause. "What does it matter? She isn’t staying."
Xaden shakes his head in disbelief, droplets of sweat flying from his dark hair. "Jesus, Garrick, it's like watching a caveman try to conduct a diplomatic summit."
"The poor dear is probably terrified," Meredith's tone annoys me.
"A young omega, alone, broken down in a strange town, and the first person she meets is..."
She gestures vaguely in my direction with one perfectly manicured hand.
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," I say dryly.
"Oh, you know I love you, dear, but you're about as welcoming as a root canal when you put your mind to it.
That girl's been hurt, mark my words. I've been around long enough to recognize the signs.
No one ends up sleeping in their car, in a strange place, unless something bad happened to them. No one."
Something cold settles in my stomach. I push it away. "Not my problem."
"Garrick!" Meredith's sharp, teacher voice rings out. "How can you say that?"
"Easy." I busy myself scrubbing flour off my fingers."I'm not a charity for every stray that wanders into town."
Xaden moves closer to the counter, expression serious now. "You know, for someone who benefited from kindness when you wanted to start this place, when you had a chip on your shoulder and a bad attitude, you're being pretty fucking heartless."
I shut the water off, hard enough to rattle the faucet.
"That was different."
"How?"
"Because I wasn't..."
I trail off. Because I can't finish that without sounding like an asshole.
"You weren’t her. That’s the difference. You had options." Xaden’s voice goes hard-edged, that old military tone he used when patience wore thin and someone needed a verbal smack upside the head.
"Because I didn't cop an attitude when someone asked me to move my broken-down piece of shit away from their business," I snap, grabbing a clean towel.
"Fuck, Garrick." Xaden runs a hand through his damp hair. "You really are determined to be an asshole about this, aren't you?"
"I'm being practical. This town doesn't need whatever drama she's running from. We've got a good thing going. I'm not interested in complications."
"That's what you call a young woman who needs help? A complication?" Meredith asks.
I toss the towel onto the counter. "I worked my ass off to build this place. Build a life that doesn't involve other people's problems landing on my doorstep."
“You used to give a shit about people.”
“Yeah, well Rebecca taught me a great lesson. The only person you can count on is yourself.”
"You know what?" I move to the cash register, punching keys. "I'm done with this. I'll call Tom and have him tow the car to his lot."
"Garrick!" Meredith gasps. "You can't be serious."
"This is a business, not a charity. She can't afford to fix her car? She can figure out some other solution that doesn't involve camping out in the parking lot."
Xaden stares at me. "Where's your heart, man?"
“I tossed it out and threw it away, after being stabbed the last time."
"Garrick," he says, gentler now, "you need to leave that shit in the past. Not everyone is…”
"Out to screw me over? Take whatever they can and disappear when things get difficult?" I bark out a laugh. "You're right. This new omega shows up, causes a scene, and I’m the asshole for not rolling out a red carpet?”
"That's not what I meant."
I move toward the kitchen, needing distance from the disappointment on their faces. "I want her out of here by noon."
"What if she has nowhere to go?"
I pause at the doorway. Grip the frame until my knuckles go white.
For that brief moment when I went out to talk to Violet, I realized we were a scent match. Her scent hit me like a sucker punch to the gut, made every instinct I've spent years burying roar back to life.
She may be on the run, but I'm in hiding. And I can't afford to let my heart get broken again. I won't.
I disappear into the kitchen. Behind me, Xaden mutters, "Stubborn bastard." Meredith makes that disapproving tsk sound.
Fine. Let them think I'm heartless.
Easier than explaining that I'm not feeding my heart through the shredder twice.