Page 60 of Lavender and Honey

Now, as I leaned on the counter, gratitude welled up for the foresight of stashing a small bottle of scent blocker in my bag. It served as a necessary shield, guarding me against the invasive curiosity of Alphas and preserving the delicate peace I had painstakingly built within these walls. With a soft sigh, I realized I had forgotten my morning dose of suppressants. The realization gnawed at me; a subtle, persistent reminder of myvulnerability. It was imperative I remembered to take them once home—without them things could definitely get bad for me if I go into heat.

Taking a breath I looked at the clock, putting the paintbrush down and went to start doing inventory. I grabbed the scanner, it chimed softly as I diligently worked through the inventory, a steady rhythm of mundane beeps. The systematic process served as a balm to the unease that had stealthily settled in my stomach due to the forgotten suppressants.

“Stay focused,” I murmured to myself, a gentle mantra in the midst of distraction. My hand hovered momentarily over a stack of pristine sketchbooks, when suddenly my phone vibrated violently against the wooden counter—a sharp, intrusive note in the calm melody of the shop.

“Hello?” I answered instinctively, not bothering to check the caller ID, assuming it must be another order to get ready for a quick pick up or even a question on if an item was in stock. All I received was a weighted silence, a pregnant pause that filled the space between my ear and the device.

“Hello? Who is this?” I queried again, my voice reverberating slightly against the otherwise empty sanctuary, carrying a tinge of impatience. But no voice emerged in reply, only the bleak, expectant hush of dead air.

And then—a click. The line went abruptly dead.

Frowning, I lowered the phone to see the screen marked with a solitary word: “Unknown.” A knot of irritation tightened within me. “Telemarketers,” I muttered quietly, shaking my head as I considered the unwelcome interruption. My thumb hovered over the option to block the number, but I paused—if it were important, the call would surely return, I reassured myself.

Setting the device aside, I redirected my attention to the neatly arranged inventory, zoning out as I tried to complete the task. Engrossed in cross-referencing the inventory list of art suppliesthat needed replenishing, I barely noted the gentle tinkle of the bell above the shop’s entrance. It was only when a familiar silhouette crept briefly into my peripheral vision that I snapped back from my focused state.

There stood Finn—a comforting presence clad in earth-toned attire that harmonized seamlessly with the warm, inviting hues of the shop. His eyes marbled with gentle humor, accompanied by the subtle crinkles at their corners as his smile lit up the room. In his hands he carried a small bag and a drink that looked as if it had been crafted with deliberate care, hinting at the promise of nourishment and the comfort of familiar sustenance.

“Good afternoon…” My greeting trailed into the air, a smile blooming across my face in response to his. His presence was as refreshing as a deep breath of forest air, grounding and enlivening all at once. With the delicate clink of glass hinting at the cool refreshment inside, Finn set his thoughtful offerings on the counter.

“Hey,” he replied in a voice that carried the melodic timbre, his grin widened as he nudged the paper-brown bag closer to me. “I brought you a raspberry lemonade, a grilled salami and cheese sandwich, and some chips. I figured you wouldn’t have time to pack yourself a lunch, seeing as you didn’t make it home.”

A light, genuine laugh escaped me as I reached for the drink, watching as beads of condensation gathered on its surface like delicate dewdrops in the early morning light. “You’re too thoughtful,” I said, my gratitude warm and sincere. In that moment, I felt a surge of relief mixed with hunger,

With the fluid grace of someone accustomed to navigating narrow aisles lined with canvases and easels, I swept over to the shop’s window and flipped the sign from ‘Open’ to ‘Closed.’ The soft click of the lock resonated faintly—a small, definitive proclamation of respite from the clamor of the outside world. Grasping the brown bag, the alluring aroma of grilled salami andmelting cheese mingled enticingly with the ever-present scent of oil paint, transforming the air with familiar comfort.

“Thank you. I had a few snacks prepared, but this is far better,” I said softly, as my stomach punctuated my words with an eager, low growl.

Finn’s eyes crinkled warmly as his smile exuded a brightness reminiscent of sunshine. He followed me with an unhurried grace, each step a testimony to the deliberate care vested in his presence. The familiar creaks of the shop floor played a quiet melody as we settled into the snug seating area secluded between vibrant canvases and carefully arranged art displays.

“Actually, I’ve been thinking,” Finn began hesitantly, pausing to catch my attention as I unwrapped the sandwich. His hands rested casually on the back of an empty chair, as if the anticipation of our conversation lent weight to his words.

“I figured we could plan a date while you’re here... I was the only one who didn’t get a chance to speak with you yesterday or earlier today so I feel I should get some of your time soon.” I heard the teasing tone so I knew he wasn’t upset causing me to give a soft smile

I nibbled thoughtfully at the crisp edge of the grilled salami and cheese, the rich flavors exploding on my tongue. Finn’s amused chuckle made my cheeks warm with a blush that wasn’t solely due to hunger.

“You turn the most fascinating shades when you’re flustered,” he observed, his tone a playful yet affectionate tease that felt like a light, reassuring touch.

“Flustered?” I replied with a half-hearted attempt at nonchalance, teetering between amusement and bashfulness. “I suppose you’re mistaking gratitude for... whatever it is you’re hinting at.”

He chuckled softly, eyes aglow with mirth. “Ah, my mistake. But honestly, gratitude looks rather spectacular on you.”

Our banter flowed effortlessly, a back-and-forth dance of words, as natural and shifting as the sunlit shadows that passed through the storefront windows. In that effortless exchange, each quip and gentle jibe wove together a tapestry of comfort and familiarity.

“So, about Saturday,” Finn began, leaning forward with elbows resting on his knees—a stance that suggested both earnest anticipation and a touch of vulnerability. “How about that stargazing date?”

My heart momentarily skipped a beat, the very thought of lying beneath the vast, inky night sky, wrapped in the serene embrace of the cosmos, felt irresistibly enchanting, “I am looking forward to that. I would love to do that this weekend.”

“Perfect,” Finn said, his smile full of secret promises and shared mysteries. “It’s a date then—Saturday night, just you, me, and the stars.”

“Sounds wonderful,” I murmured, already picturing the serene expanse of the open sky, the hushed whispers of distant constellations, and the intimate, quiet companionship of someone who asked for nothing more than my company.

“It’s been far too long since I last enjoyed a night under the stars.” I held his gaze a moment longer than necessary—a silent confession of the joy budding inside me. “But you must keep your promise,” I added playfully, a spark of challenge in my tone. “I expect a detailed tour of the constellations.”

Finn's laughter, light and melodious, eased the lingering tension in my shoulders. “I wouldn’t dream of disappointing you, Lydia,” he assured, his eyes twinkling with earnest delight. His infectious grin was impossible not to mirror, even as a slight vulnerability fluttered in my chest at this newfound closeness.

“Good,” I teased, my tone laced with faux sternness. “Because I’ll be holding you to it.”

Finn's eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled, a warmth spreading through his features that made my heart flutter. "I look forward to it," he said softly. "And to spending time with you, just the two of us." I felt a blush creep up my cheeks at his words, a mixture of excitement and nervousness swirling in my stomach. It had been so long since I'd allowed myself to be this open with someone, to look forward to spending time together. Part of me still wanted to retreat, to protect myself from potential hurt. But a larger part yearned for the connection Finn was offering.

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