Page 75 of Small Town Shy Omega
“Thank you,” Josh growled, eating a tangerine. “Dang, this fruit is good.”
“Very good fruit cup,” Dreydon complimented, and Irene batted her eyelashes.
“Thank you all! I can go home, and support my grandfather now.”
We leisurely strolled around the Public Gardens. Josh supported my parasol, and I sighed as the small-town vibes surrounded me.
“Come Christmas,” I said, pointing to the lake in the Gardens, “they turn that into an ice rink. You can skate in the fresh-falling snow.”
“I know, baby,” Josh purred, jabbing me with my parasol. “We’ve lived here for three years. We skate every year.”
“Oh, do you?” I fought the blush that arose from thinking of my Alphas donning ice skates and twirling around.
Josh sighed. “Winter in Applewood Falls is great. But, what we really like…”
“The blossom festival,” Blake said proudly, eager for the fest to start.
“Cherry blossom cookies,” Dreydon muttered hungrily. “Cherry blossom leis. The vibes are the snuggest they are all year. Even cherry blossom sparkling apple spritzers. And, cherry blossom art. It’s a cherry blossom extravaganza.”
My gaze settled on Dreydon. “I’d love to see you walking around,” I murmured softly, my soft fingers on his scarred arm. “Wearing a blossom lei, Dreydon.”
“Who knows?” Dreydon growled, wiggling a brow. “Maybe this year I’ll even put a blossom in my hair.”
We settled into a bench in the Public Gardens. A mauve caterpillar crawled along the bench, its fuzzy antenna fluttering in the breeze.
Honeyed sunlight fell over my cheeks, I she set the book I was carrying down to scoop the caterpillar up and set him on a nearby blade of grass.
The caterpillar clung to the grass; it swayed, then toppled over, the grass serving as a sort of rope swing to deposit the curious caterpillar on the ground.
It faded into the thick grass of the Applewood Falls Commons, and I sighed, my purple hair tumbling over my bare shoulders, shoulders which I seldom let see the sun.
I looked down, admiring the pair of linen pants I wore, and the flats I had on that showed off her pretty purple-planet nails. I didn't planet-gaze often while setting out my crystals to bathe inthe moonlight, but Jupiter had caught my interest last night, so I’d decided to paint the glowing planet on my big toe.
“You like my toenails?” I murmured softly, wiggling my toes.
Josh nodded. “Fabulous art.”
Blake took my hand in his.
“Layla, what I adore about you most is your precious sensitivity. Look at that caterpillar you just helped: you probably didn't even noticeInoticed, but I saw the way you brought it to the grass. Not every woman, Omega or not, would even notice or care. Some would scream, and order her Alphas to crush it. Not you. You care, Layla. You care about the littlest things, and it’s an honor to have your light in my life.”
“I feel myself becoming a better man,” Dreydon growled, scars flexing in the sunlight. “Around you, my past just…. Melts away.”
My vision blurred, and I rubbed Dreydon’s arm. “There, there, Dreydon. It’s okay.”
“I spent so many years,” Dreydon growled, eyes settling on a point in the distance. “So many years running from myself. I didn't give in to love, and I refused to open up. When I signed up to go into war…”
I nodded, listening intently. “Go on,” I urged. It’s not every day a man strong as Dreydon opens up about his feels.
“My hands have taken lives,” Dreydon growled. “Layla, what I can’t even fathom though… Isyourstrength.”
This caught me by surprise, and I lifted my head up. “Mystrength?”
“You… you’re stronger than warriors I’ve known,” Dreydon growled, massaging the back of my hand. “You have an inner strength that ninety-nine percent of soldiers on the battlefield don’t have. When you put your mind to something, you do it, damnit.”
“And,” Josh went on, softly and tenderly, “you’re so open, Layla. When you talk about your sister, Jasmine, or open up about your former mother-in-law… I mean, damn. Just damn… Most people can’t just… Share their feelings so freely, so unburdened.”
“I try my best to be honest,” I said softly, my nose pink with pride. “Honest to my feelings.”
