Page 22 of Pumpkin Patch Pack
Jeeze Emma. Why so freaking nosy? Especially when you can’t reciprocate.
Liam nods, his eyes on Buttercup. “Rowan gave me a chance when I needed one. I owe him.”
The simple statement hints at a deeper story, but I don’t press. We all have parts of our past we prefer to keep private.
Instead, I say, “I’ve been taking lots of photos of the animals for social media. People love that content. Especially Maple… She’s very photogenic.”
At the mention of the goat, Liam’s expression lightens again. “She thinks she’s the star of the show, and she’s decided you’re her person, for whatever reason.”
“I’m flattered,” I say, smiling. “Though I don’t know what I did to earn her loyalty.”
Liam looks at me directly then, his eyes intense. “Sometimes it’s not about what you do. Sometimes it’s just intuition. Animals sense things we don’t always pick up on.”
His gaze makes me feel exposed, as if he can see through my careful facade. I break eye contact first, focusing on Buttercup again.
“Well, I’m glad she approves of me,” I say lightly. “Makes my job easier when the talent cooperates.”
Liam doesn’t respond immediately, and when I glance back at him, he’s still watching me with that same intense expression. But there’s something else there now—his nostrils flare as he steps towards me.
“Mmm, it smells so good,” he murmurs, leaning closer, eyes half-closed as he inhales deeply.
I freeze as Liam drifts toward me like someone in a trance. My heart lurches painfully in my chest. “What?”
He steps closer, and his eyes suddenly snap open, widening with horror. “Shit, sorry,” he stammers, lurching backward.
His heel catches on the water bucket, clattering across the stable floor. The pony startles with a nervous whine as Liam stumbles into its flank, but thankfully regains his footing.
Panic rises in my throat. The headache, my heightened scent… something’s wrong.
“Didn’t mean—thought—” His hands gesture uselessly. “Fuck.”
He takes a tentative step forward, and that’s when his scent hits me: smoke and bourbon. The perfect combination of woodsy and masculine musk makes my inner omega purr.
Oh my gawd!
“I should go,” I say, backing toward the door. “I have—work to finish—before tomorrow.”
Liam takes another step forward. “Emma, wait—”
But I’m already turning, moving quickly out of the barn and into the sunlight. I can hear my heart pounds in my ears as I walk as fast as possible without running to my cottage. I’m so focused that I nearly collide with Rowan as he emerges between two outbuildings.
“Whoa,” he says, his hands steadying me by the shoulders. “Everything alright?”
His touch sends a warm flutter through me, and I pull back instinctively. But not before I catch his scent; burnt sugar and musk, stronger than I’ve ever smelled. My reaction is immediate and horrifying; heat pooling low in my belly, my body responding to his alpha pheromones in a way that should be impossible with my extra-strength suppressant and two freaking patches.
“F-fine,” I manage, taking another step back, hoping my flood of hormones doesn’t reach him. “Just in a hurry.”
Rowan’s eyes narrow, his head tilting. “You sure?” He takes a deliberate breath, and I see the moment something changes in his expression—his pupils dilating, his posture straightening. “Emma—”
“I really need to go,” I cut him off, panic making my voice sharper than intended. “Deadline for tomorrow’s posts.”
Before he can respond, I hurry past him, not daring to look back. I can feel his eyes on me all the way to my cottage.
Inside, I lock the door and lean against it, trembling.
This can’t be happening.
Not now, not when I’ve finally found a place where I feel like I can relax. I move to the bathroom, pulling open the medicine cabinet where I keep my suppressants. The bottle is nearly empty, only six pills left.
