Page 45 of Strawberry Moon

“That’s not even a real question,” I mumbled. “Who would turn down fresh homemade ice cream?”

Linden shrugged as he pulled an enormous tub of ice cream out of the freezer. “You could be allergic or lactose intolerant. But fair point, really. It’s pretty much the only thing that makes this recipe better.”

Half an hour later, full of fresh fruit and ice cream that tasted a lot like home, the fog in my brain receded further. Not to obsess about how Ford had walked away from me, though I’d certainly be doing a lot of that for a while, but in realization of the one thing every werewolf I’d met had had in common, alpha or otherwise.

Food. The entire Grove pack was all about it. Apples and pie and ice cream and just, everything they did was perfect and delicious, and smelled amazing. It wasn’t synthetic fragrance layered on top of synthetic pheromones, trying to pretend to be something it wasn’t. It was real apples, baked into a pie with cinnamon and butter and... well, whatever went into pies.

Maybe I couldn’t replace the synthetic pheromone part of the equation, but I could replace the synthetic scent with something natural, that wouldn’t ping all these sensitive werewolf noses as disgusting and fake.

I turned to Rowan, considering. “Does Cliff have some time this week? I have an idea I want to test out.”

Rowan’s eyes lit up, and he nodded. “Yeah. Yes. I’ll make sure he does. Do you think... do you think maybe you have something?”

“Only time will tell. I got a hit with Ford on a pheromone profile that he didn’t think smelled like much of anything, and I have an idea on how to maybe round out any edges that smell fake. There’s only one way to see if it works, though.”

Maybe, just maybe, I’d been overcomplicating everything. The sample that had seemed to work okay, and just a hint of a natural food scent. Vanilla, orange, just about anything, really, as long as it didn’t break down the chemical pheromones.

Maybe, just maybe... I smiled over at Rowan. Maybe I’d only ever be “see you” to Ford, but maybe Rowan still had a shot at his happily ever after.

31

Ford

“You gonna go inside?”

I’d been lingering on the gravel driveway, staring up at the farmhouse, long enough my hips were starting to ache from the strain of standing in one place. It didn’t help that they’d gotten a mighty hard workout the past few days.

I could still feel Archer in my arms, the heat and weight of his body, his breath against my lips, his bright eyes blown wide as I sank into him.

“Ford?” Ridge pressed when I didn’t respond.

The wolf was closer than ever, pacing and demanding we return to Archer. Go back to our mate.

Only, he wasn’t that.

Archer Sterling was a billionaire. And he hadn’t been a wolf for long. There were plenty of alphas who saw omegas through heats without mating them. I’d never managed it—falling hard and fast and sticking close to Lily, then to no one. But there was no reason that a man who’d been human a handful of months ago would go getting all attached just because we’d rutted a couple times—no reason a gorgeous billionaire like Archer would settle for a rough-and-ready farmer like me.

And there was no way—no way—I could tie my life to the Sterling Corporation. Not when they were responsible for Lily’s death, and the deaths of so many omegas like her.

I couldn’t stand the thought of it, benefitting from the company who’d caused so much hurt.

Our lives just didn’t fit.

It was good I’d gotten to help him out, but that was all it could be. All it could ever be.

“You okay?” Ridge finally broke down and pushed his shoulder against mine to get my attention.

“Haven’t decided yet,” I grumbled. I’d meant about going inside, but truth told, I might not be okay either.

I could feel Lily’s tree behind me, almost like her eyes were on me, heavy and disappointed for giving in—not that I’d helped an omega in need. She’d have understood that, maybe even wanted me to. I’d been alone for years, done my penance for letting her down.

No, that weight of disappointment was because my heart was all tangled up in it now. I still longed for Archer, even though we’d only been apart for the time it took to drag my feet home.

That was me, the pathetic, sad, edgy alpha who went falling for anyone who let him slip between their legs, even if it couldn’t ever work.

Ridge’s arm settled around me. He was a big guy—hugeguy, really. One of the biggest alphas I’d ever met. But he was careful with all that strength. He had a gentle heart. Right then, I hated him for being there and persistent and damn near perfect when I was such a mess. Where did a kid, barely out of college, get off being so steady?

Archer wouldn’t have had any reason to send Ridge sad eyes across the parking lot at The Cider House.

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