Knot Staying (Packs of Honeysuckle Grove #3)

Nash

Iwake up to shouting, and I already know it's going to be her.

It cuts straight through what little sleep I got after the night shift at the police department. Loud enough to drag me up from the bottom of it and drop me right back into reality. My eyes don't even open right away. I just lie there, staring into the dark behind my eyelids, listening.

"You can't just slap a notice on my door and call it a day! Where the hell am I supposed to stay!?"

Yep.

Nelly Davenport.

The town's chaos engine.

I drag a hand down my face and let out a slow breath through my nose. The clock on my bedside table reads just past ten. That puts me at about three hours.

Fantastic.

Another voice cuts in, one I recognize: Fire Chief Harlan.

"Nelly, I've explained this already—"

"I heard you," Nelly snaps. "I just don't agree with you. I've been living here just fine while working on the house. You should see the inside of it."

"I only need to look at the outside to know it's not safe enough to live in."

I sit up, already knowing there's no going back to sleep now. Not with her in full form. Not with whoever she's decided to go toe-to-toe with on any given day. I swing my legs over the side of the bed and grab the nearest clothes I can find: sweatpants, hoodie, and my boots.

I pocket my badge in case I need to flash it, though I usually don't have to. The town knows who I am, and I shouldn't need my uniform for something like this, anyway. This isn't official police business.

Yet, at least.

Nelly always has a way of creating more paperwork for me, though.

By the time I step out of the apartment complex, the argument outside has escalated another notch.

Her voice carries on the wind, and if the street wasn't awake before, it is now.

Clear, sharp, impossible to ignore, just like her entire existence back in high school.

I'm surprised Chief Harlan is keeping his cool with her, his voice measured and calm.

Then again, Nelly stresses everyone out eventually.

The scene on the sidewalk tells me everything I need to know.

A fire department truck sits parked at an angle along the curb, lights off, its presence loud enough on its own.

Three other firefighters lean against the shining red truck, watching it all unfold like they've learned better than to step into whatever this is. And right in the middle of it?

Nelly.

The most pleasantly aggravating Omega in town.

Her hair is piled up in a messy bun that's halfway falling out, streaked with dust and something that looks like paint.

She's covered in sawdust, her hands moving just as fast as her mouth.

She's squared off with Chief Harlan, who stands in front of her with a clipboard in one hand and the kind of patience that's hanging on by a thread.

Nelly shakes a bright red notice in the chief's face, and I recognize it instantly.

He's condemned the house she's working on.

"Well," I mutter as I close the distance, "that explains it."

Nelly's the first one to spot me. "Did you call him?"

Chief Harlan looks over at me, and something like relief rushes behind his eyes.

Nelly stresses everyone out eventually.

"Sheriff," the chief says with a nod.

I flash my badge anyway, then tuck it into my hoodie pocket. I look between Nelly's furious face and Chief Harlan's exasperated one.

Then I hold out my hand toward the notice. "Let me see."

"We don't need you, Nash," she says.

I just give her a tepid smile and wiggle my fingers.

Her eyes lock onto mine before she groans and slaps the notice into my hand. Sure enough, the fire department has condemned the house. No one is allowed to live in it until the renovations are finished and the fire department signs off.

"I want to know who snitched," Nelly says as she folds her arms across her chest.

"So, you admit the house isn't fit for you to live in while you're working on it," the chief says.

Nelly's eyes narrow. "That isn't what I said. Tell him that's not what I said, Nash."

"That's not what she said," I murmur as I read the notice.

"Good," she says with pride in her voice. "Now, tell him he can't do this, Nash."

I hand the notice back to her. When I look over at the house again, I have to admit, it looks rough. The roof is caving in. The porch sinks on one side. The yard needs grading. The gutters hang loose at one corner.

"You want me to lie, then," I say.

She scoffs. "I want you to use common sense."

"That's not the same thing."

Chief Harlan sighs. "It's not the end of the world, Nelly. You just can't live in it while you're working on it. If you want to keep me updated on your progress—"

"I don't have to answer to anyone about anything I do," Nelly says. "Tell him, Nash."

If I could roll my eyes in a professional capacity, they'd get stuck in the back of my head.

"Chief Harlan," I say, turning to the man who's clearly done with this situation, "just give me a rundown of what happened."

Nelly throws her hands up. "He's condemning my house. That's what's going on."

"You've talked," I say as I cast Nelly a look, "and now it's his time to talk."

"Structure's just unsafe," Harlan says calmly.

"We've had multiple complaints about it being the eyesore of the block.

There's exposed wiring at the back of the house.

The side has a massive hole in it with insulation hanging out.

People on the block have reported movement in and out of the property at all hours. "

"That's me," Nelly snaps. "I'm the movement."

"I gathered," Harlan says dryly. "Doesn't change the fact that it's not safe for occupancy."

"It's not occupancy," she argues. "It's renovation."

"You're living here," he counters.

"I'm working here."

"You're sleeping here."

"That's not the point."

"That's exactly the point."

I scrub a hand down my face. There's a headache building behind my eyes already.

"Nelly," I say, cutting in, "are you living in the house while working on it?"

She looks at me like I've personally betrayed her. "That's not relevant."

"It is when the fire department's involved. Just answer the question. Are the utilities up and running so you can live in there while you work on it?"

"They shouldn't be," the chief answers.

I shoot him a look. "I'm asking Nelly, sir."

She exhales hard, glaring at the ground for a second before looking back up at me. "Temporarily."

"Temporarily," I repeat. "So, you're living in the house while you work on it. How are you cleaning up and feeding yourself?"

She scoffs. "Does that matter, Sheriff?"

There's the feisty Nelly I know. She only uses my title when she's pissed. "Yes, it does."

Her sigh is heavy. "Marge is letting me clean up at the gas station. But it's not that big of a deal. The house has cast-iron piping, for fuck's sake. All I have to do is get it replaced with PVC in some places, and we're good to go for water without leaks."

Chief Harlan butts in. "If there's water leaks in a place like this, there's most likely mold somewhere."

"I'd smell mold if there was any," Nelly says. "I'm not stupid. This is how I make my living, remember?"

I shift my weight and turn back toward the house. Worse than rough, really. This time I catch the half-stripped siding and the upper-floor windows, every one of them busted out.

A rumble of thunder in the distance sends a family of birds up off the roof, at least six of them scattering.

How in the world has Nelly been living in this dump?

My Alpha side prickles with anger.

No Omega should be living in a situation like this.

"You know I'm right, Sheriff," Harlan says.

"Come on, Nash," Nelly whines. "Where the hell am I going to go, anyway? You know I always sleep and eat where I work. It's just how I do things."

The chief cuts in. "She can continue renovation work under proper conditions, but she can't sleep and nest here. Not until it passes inspection. It's just not safe."

Nelly lets out a pointed laugh. "Proper conditions. That's rich. I've lived in and worked with worse, and you know it."

"It's just code," Harlan says.

"It's expensive, is what it is."

"It's safe, and it's my job to make sure everyone in this town is safe."

"No, that's Nash's job," Nelly says as she turns her attention to me. "And he knows I stay safe, right?"

Thunder rumbles again, and I've never wanted to be drowned out more than I do in this moment. Nelly has always been stubborn and hardheaded. Anything she's told to do, she does the opposite, just because she can. But the more I look at this house, the more my Alpha side bristles.

"The status of the house stands," I say.

"Oh, come on!" Nelly tosses her hands into the air.

Chief Harlan claps me on the shoulder. "Good morning, and good luck."

As he backtracks toward the fire truck, Nelly paces. "So, what? I just… pack up and magically afford somewhere else to stay while I fix this place?"

"Yes," Harlan calls from the fire truck.

"I wasn't asking you!" she shouts after him.

"Nelly," I say curtly.

"What?" she says, mocking my tone of voice.

Those ignited eyes of hers whip up to me, and fuck, it looks like she might actually pull one of those tools off her tool belt and chuck it at me.

I pinch the bridge of my nose.

This is exactly the kind of situation she always gets herself into. She pushes too hard, stretches herself too thin, and assumes she can outwork whatever problem is in front of her until it either works or collapses.

Today, it's leaning toward collapse.

"You can't just kick me out," she says, her voice strained as the fire truck finally drives off. "I bought this place, Nash. I'm fixing it. I'm doing everything I'm supposed to do."

"But you're not doing it safely," I say. "And I'm not letting you get hurt in there."

"I'm fine."

"You won't be if that roof continues to give."

She doesn't answer, and that's what gets me.

For the first time since I stepped outside, she looks…

stuck. Not angry or defiant, just frozen.

I don't like it. It's not a good look on her.

Underneath the stubbornness and all the noise complaints her work has earned her over the years, I know her.

We went to school together. Grew up running these streets together.

I know how she gets when she's not getting her way.

But right now, she looks like someone just pulled the ground out from under her.

Like her parents always did when she was growing up.

My protective instincts churn to the surface. "I can give you until the end of the day to clear out anything essential. But after that, if you're still on the property—"

Her head snaps up. "End of the day? You're giving me a few hours?"

"Just your basic things. You don't have to store furniture or anything like that. You can't live here anymore. You can only work."

"But that's not enough time. I've got my nesting things. I've got my tools. I can't leave those out for someone to walk off with. I've got—"

"Well, it's the best we can do given the situation."

She laughs again, but there's nothing amused about it. "Unbelievable."

Silence falls between us. Then my instincts get the better of me. "You got somewhere to go?"

She scoffs. "Like you care."

"You know I always care."

"That badge of yours makes me think otherwise."

I do my best not to let her words get to me. "Nelly, do you have somewhere to go?"

She mocks my tone of voice again. "Nash, I'll figure it out."

"That's not what I asked."

"I said I'll figure it out," she spits.

So, no.

Great.

The thing about Nelly Davenport is when things go wrong? She has no plan for it. She has one plan, and she charges full speed ahead like the Kool-Aid Man through a wall. She plans for the part where she fixes the houses and sells them for a profit, and that's it.

I look back at the house. I look down at the notice crumpled in her hand.

Then my gaze slides to her face.

I've never seen her like this. When she gets upset, she paces. When she's pissed, she yells and argues. But right now, all she does is stare at that house with a longing in her features that tells me there's more to this than meets the eye.

My instincts don't like it.

An Omega with nowhere to go? No stable place to land? No plan beyond "figure it out"?

I'm about to do something stupid.

"This is a bad idea," I mutter, then pitch my voice louder. "You can stay with me, then."

That gets her to move, and she turns toward me. "What?"

I don't look at her right away. I keep my eyes on the house instead. The more I take it in, the more issues I clock, and the more certain I get about the words coming out of my mouth.

"You can stay with me," I repeat as my attention pulls back to her. "Until you figure this out or find another living situation."

She blinks. "You've got to be kidding me."

I crook an eyebrow. "Do you have a better option?"

She opens her mouth.

Closes it.

Opens it again.

"No," she admits.

I nod. "Then, there you go. Now you have an option until you figure something else out."

She stares at me, suspicion written all over her face. "What's the catch?"

"There's no catch."

"There's always a catch with you."

I huff out a quiet laugh. "Yeah? Name one."

"You've written me citations twice."

"Three times, and that's because you broke noise ordinances."

She waves a hand. "Technicalities."

"Loud ones."

She narrows her brown eyes at me. "You're serious."

"Unfortunately."

Her gaze searches my face like she's trying to find the angle. The joke. The part where I take it back. It makes me angry at her family, the way they raised her to be so suspicious of kindness.

But I don't budge.

I'm not leaving her out here with nowhere to go.

"This is temporary," I say when she doesn't speak. "You fix your house, you move out. I've got a spare bedroom. You'll have your own bathroom across the hall. You'll be safe until that place is safe."

She studies me for another second as thunder rolls in the distance.

"Can I see the house from your place?" she asks.

I nod. "From my bedroom, yes. Not from the one you'll be in."

"But I can come in and look at it whenever I need to?"

I snicker. "You're not in prison, Nelly. You can come and go as you please."

"You clearly haven't seen the weather reports lately. We've got massive storms rolling through. You know how summer is around here."

I'm really going to regret this. "Then, you can peek out my window at the place as many times as you need. And like I said, this is all—"

"Temporary," she says.

I nod. "Temporary."

And then, she does something I don't expect.

"Okay," she says.

I'm not sure I've ever heard Nelly agree to anything before.

I clear my throat. "Glad we could reach a solution."

Nelly heads for the house. "Don't get used to it. I'll start packing my things. You got a spare key I can use?"

Thunder rumbles closer this time, and it sends me after her. "I'll help you pack."

"I don't need help."

"Then tell me to leave."

She just scoffs and hops onto the porch. Her balance wavers when the rotted wood gives under her foot.

I'm really going to regret this.