Page 20 of Sweet Whiskey
I smile politely, walking toward her. “I’m just visiting, and I know my mom used to come here a lot. I was wondering if the town keeps records of…like past newspaper clippings. I tried searching online, but I couldn’t find anything.”
She nods. “Oh, yes. I can show you. We’re in the process of doing all that electronic thing, but the kid who does it is out on summer break.”
“Oh, I’m sure it’s a long process, but easier in the end,” I nullify her. I can’t imagine they have a lot of traffic.
Her eyes brighten. “It will help clear up some room for a kiddie corner. Some of the town is nearly breeding age, and the town council agreed to my idea of a small place just to bring the babies.”
I blanch at her casual use of the word breeding. Given omegas’ unfavorable history of being captured for such purposes, most steer away from reminders of the dark past. I shudder, needing to find a doctor who can administer my shot before my next heat.
“That’s—uh, wonderful,” I say with a frown.
She tsks. “If only Marley would let go of that old schoolhouse on her family’s land, that would be perfect.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask if she means the Marley I work with at Sweet Whiskey, but I stop myself. This is exactly how small town gossip never seems to end. Marley’s business is all hers, and it definitely isn’t mine. I don’t care what Marley does on what seems to be her land.
I paste a thin smile on and nod just as we walk around to the back wall.
She waves a hand at the boxes. “If what you’re looking for is here, it’s somewhere buried in the boxes.”
My heart sinks. It’s a disaster, everything stacked upon each other with no labels. “Uhh, thanks,” Iget out before she walks away and I seem ungrateful. But god, I’ve seen better organization on the playground with a group of toddlers.
The longer I stare at the mess, the more I don’t feel like even starting. What exactly am I even looking for? I grab a chair from a nearby table and slump into it. I’m almost tempted to come back with Brielle and beg her to help me. Maybe even trade the sequin top she’s always eyeing.
“Kinsey?”
I look up, startled for the second time today. “Dallas?” I say hesitantly, glancing around him. “Are you guys stalking me?” It’s blurted out before I can think about it, and then I blush when his eyes go round.
“Uh. No?” His eyes widen in horror.
“Wait, what do you meanyou guys?” he asks, concerned.
“I ran into Brooks earlier, and now…”
“And now me,” he says, nodding as his cheeks stain a little red. “I can see where you’d get the notion. I was dropping off somethings for the high school and decided to stop by to see if they have a book.” He waves something in his hand before hiding it behind his back when we both register the cover.
“The Inner Workings of Pack Dynamics?”
Dallas clears his throat. “Colt is being a little stubborn. I figured it would be better to just have this appear in his truck one day.”
My smile widens. “I think between you and Brooks, Colt won’t know what hit him.”
“Oh no. What did Brooks say?” he asks with a grimace.
I laugh. “Oh, nothing bad. He just mentioned about courting with his pack.”
Dallas pales. “Courting? With his pack?”
Nodding, I bite down on my lip for a few seconds as a panic starts to build on his face, and I put my hand on his arm. “If it calms you, he mentioned courting…me?”
It’s bold of me to assume that’s what he wants, and for a slight moment a fear of rejection threads into my heart.
Dallas breaks out with a grin, a hopeful expression glowing on his face. “And what’d you say?”
“I said I’d be interested.”
He blows out a bated breath. “Then I’m definitely getting this book.”
I smile. “Colt that stubborn?”
