Page 7 of Knot Your Problem, Cowboy
“Good to know,” I say, turning to stare out at the ridiculously beautiful green landscape. I’ll be out of the cowboys’ hair soon enough anyway. And as gorgeous as they are, drop-dead, drive-into-a-tree gorgeous, they didn’t exactly seem thrilled to see me.
“Word of advice? Those cowboys might seem like trouble, and they are, don’t get me wrong. Cashespecially has a reputation for being a bit intense when something catches his interest. But they’re good men. Whatever happens with the ranch, don’t write them off too quickly.”
I snort. “Great. Intense Alphas with broody streaks. Just what every emotionallystableOmega dreams of.”
Belle smirks. “Yeah, well, stable is overrated.”
I shake my head. “I’m not here to catch feelings or collect cowboys. I came to sign paperwork and head back home to Chicago, where I have semi-control over my life.”
“Whatever you say,” Belle murmurs.
“This is going to be fine,” I say, more to myself than to her. “I’ll talk to the lawyer, we’ll sort out the sale, and I’ll be back home eating overpriced sushi and ignoring emotionally unavailable men in no time.”
And maybe, if I keep repeating it, I’ll actually believe it.
We drive in silence for a few minutes, the truck bouncing gently along the road. Then Belle glances over at me.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“How’d you end up coming out here on your own? No pack escort or anything?” Her tone isn’t judgy, just curious. Maybe a little surprised.
I huff a small laugh. “You mean, how did an unclaimed Omega dare to breathe country air without a personal bodyguard?”
She holds up a hand, amused. “I’m a Beta. My stepsister is an Omega, though, so… I get it. She’s not even allowed to go to the corner store without someone shadowing her. Last year she snuck off with some friends to a night market two towns over, and the next morning, Dad signed her up for the mate-dating institute. Said she couldn’t be trusted to make her own decisions.”
“Yikes.” I wince. “That’s… harsh.” I’ve heard plenty of stories. Some Alpha parents treat their Omega daughters like delicate glassware, terrified they’ll get scratched if they so much as look at the wrong male. There’s this disgusting belief floating around in some circles that ataintedOmega, one who’s been out in the world, has opinions, has spent time around Alphas, somehow loses her value. That she won’t be as desirable.
Because God forbid an Omega have a life before getting claimed.
Some Alphas want them pure. Untouched. So innocent they’ve barely exchanged two words with anyone outside their family. Like that’s supposed to be a virtue.
It’s bullshit, if you ask me.
I grew up that way, sheltered, careful, constantly reminded of how a good Omega behaved. And it still landed me in a cold, loveless relationship I hated. But I stayed, because that’s what was expected. That’s what Omegas do, right? Obey. Settle. Serve.
Never again.
I refuse to live like that. And hearing about Belle’s sister, about anyone else being shoved into that mold, makes my skin crawl.
Belle shrugs. “Yeah. She’s still pissed about it. But, you know, Alpha dads and control issues.”
I nod, jawline tight. “My best friend, Meredith, was supposed to come with me on this trip. She’s a Beta too, and she was going to drag her brother along. But they had a family emergency, and I had to come settle the property stuff alone.”
I don’t addBecause I need the money. Because one of my freelance social media clients just ghosted me, and another pushed their campaign back a month.But I grit my teeth and keep going. “Didn’t really have the luxury of waiting around.”
Belle is quiet for a second, then offers a half smile. “Well, look at it this way: If you’re staying anywhere near those three cowboys, no one’s going to question whether you’ve got protection.”
“I’m not staying,” I say quickly, too quickly.
She raises an eyebrow but doesn’t push it. “Right. Of course not.”
We drive the rest of the way with light chatter about the town, where to get the best coffee, the fact that everyone knows everyone’s business, and how the mayor’s cat has more Instagram followers than the actual town account.
Eventually, Belle pulls to a stop in front of a brickbuilding withHartwell & Associatesetched on a brass plaque.
“Good luck,” she calls out, putting the truck in park.
