Chapter 8 #2
Zane studies me closely. Whatever he finds, he clearly doesn’t outright disagree with it. “Helena is my client.”
Client. That’s what his words say. But his body coiling tight, the protective stance he’s dropping into—these tell different stories.
“We’re here on holiday for her,” Zane supplies. “Then we’re going back to the city. That’s all I have say on that.”
This is seriously too much, too fast. Too everything.
I shake my head and clap him on the shoulder. “Listen, thank you for bringing it up, but it’s not going to be a problem. Or a thing. But I’m happy to see you back in Seamuse. They say the village has a way of bringing everyone back eventually.”
Zane inclines his head. “That it does. Thank you, Cole.”
We head back inside and I’m too scared of saying something to piss Zane off to say much of anything.
Luckily, Helena’s there already. “Thank you again, Cole. The bun and coffee were delightful. Hope to see you again!”
“You too,” I say and she and Zane trail off toward the front door. All the while I wonder what Helena must think—if anything.
Wait.
Helena.
As in Lucas’s Helena?
The scent-matched omega tourist he saved from drowning?
They’re already out of sight by the time I process this information. Which is probably for the best.
I have to tell Lucas.
I need to figure out what this all means.
I need to get a fucking grip.
Seamuse Beach at lunchtime is the opposite of the bakery.
The sun is harshly shining today after last night’s storm, and the hum of holiday-goers is layered with gull shrieks and the crash of surf.
I jog down to the beach on my lunch break hoping to catch Lucas.
Sure enough, there he sits in the northernmost lifeguard chair in the full sun, king on his resin throne.
He spots me before I reach him and raises a hand in greeting.
His ocean-blue eyes are shaded by mirrored sunglasses, but his smile’s visible from orbit.
He’s shirtless except for the red-and-yellow vest, which looks comically small across his chest and arms. I guess that’s what you get for lifting since childhood.
“Early lunch?” he calls.
I shake my head, catching my breath. “Even better. Remember that omega you rescued? She came in this morning.”
Lucas leans forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. His eyes go wide. “No way. Did you talk to her? How are you sure?”
“Said her name’s Helena, and she was shadowed by an alpha. Touristy-feeling. It’s her.” I hesitate, grinning at the memory. “Better yet, I actually know her alpha. Zane’s from Seamuse.”
Lucas whistles. “That’s a hell of a coincidence.”
“Might be.” If the three of us alphas are all scent-matched to the same omega, Zane and I knowing each other from childhood might just be fate. If you believe in that kind of stuff.
I honestly didn’t until today.
Lucas tips his head back, considering. “You gonna make a move?”
I snort. “With Zane shadowing her? No thanks. I value my limbs. But…”
Lucas lets logic fill in the gap. “I’m with you, Cole. I want to, too. Did she give any inclination she knows about the scent-match? Maybe she’s on blockers or something.”
“That block only her sense of smell and nothing more?” I chew the inside of my cheek. “I just want to see her again. Not, like, track her down or anything. See her somewhere and chat.”
Lucas grins from ear to ear. “We will.”
I study him. “You sound very confident about that.”
Lucas points down the beach. “They’re here right now. Haven’t come by to say hi, but I spied them earlier.”
I follow where he points and, sure enough, there Helena and Zane are. A few hours ago, they were in my bakery buying breakfast. Now, they’re decked out in swimwear catching some warm sun.
Lucas shrugs. “Arrived half an hour ago. That’s probably long enough now where they won’t mind being interrupted if we go say hi.”
I nod. “Yeah, sure. That sounds reasonable.”
Tell me why I’m nervous as fuck.
A timer goes off on a clock nearby. Lucas slides off his chair and dusts sand from his shorts. “That’s my lunch break.” The lifeguard replacing me appears. “And that’s my cue for freedom. Let’s go say hi to Helena.”
We weave through the crowd. It’s impossible to ignore the honey notes of Helena’s scent as we approach. It’s subtle, but it hits like a shot of adrenaline.
Helena glances up, eyes narrowing before recognition lights her face. “Cole! Hello again. And Lucas!”
Zane glowers, only slightly so. But I don’t think it’s truly territorial in nature. “Hey.”
“Did you survive the coffee?” I ask her.
She laughs. “Barely. I see you weren’t exaggerating about the strength. It was definitely an adventure.”
Zane’s glower is momentarily exchanged for a chuckle. “Try keeping up with her when she’s that caffeinated.”
I’d do anything to keep up with her, so I don’t see her caffeination level as an obstacle. “You both settling in okay?”
Helena smiles. “Better, now that we’ve found the best bakery. And the beach.” She gestures at her towel, where a sandpiper is hopping perilously close to her bag. “It’s lovely here.”
Zane is less effusive, but there’s a glimmer of old camaraderie in his eye when he looks at me. “Not much has changed.”
“Except for you,” I say, and he huffs out a short laugh. “You look like you could bench-press the cliff.”
“City gyms,” he replies, dry as dust. “You should visit sometime. See how the real athletes live.”
Helena glances between us.
Lucas clocks it. “Let them have it out. Best to leave them to it. May I?” He indicates the empty space in the sand on Helena’s side opposite Zane.
Helena gestures to it. “Of course. You saved my life, after all.”
And there Zane goes, back to glowering again.
Silence fills the air between us all. It feels sudden and stilted. Awkward enough that I wonder if there’s a hope this could turn into something—anything.
Scent-matches are simply biological processes, after all. They don’t guarantee chemistry.
Lucas clears his throat—and the air. “Well, don’t let us interrupt your sunbathing.” He points to me. “He wanted to say hi, and I wanted to check in on you after the whole riptide thing.”
“Oh, we’re not—” Helena starts, but Zane puts a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“It’s good to see you, Cole,” he says, direct and heavy with meaning. “Maybe we can catch up for a pint later? Lucas, you’re welcome too.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I say.
We linger a few seconds longer to exchange numbers before Lucas and I make our exit.
Back at the lifeguard chair, Lucas props himself up and stares at the horizon, thoughtful. “You think they’ll stick around?”
“I hope so,” I admit.
He watches me for a beat, then grins. “You really are hopeless.”
I can’t deny it. My brain’s already running scenarios: beach barbecues and baking lessons, maybe even a pint with Zane at the old pub.
Lucas claps me on the back. “Take it slow, man. They’re probably gone by September. Scent-match and pack or not.”
Or not.
Lucas and I aren’t a bonded alpha pair. We’re just great friends.
There is literally nothing here saying anything must happen.
So why do I want everything to?