Page 91 of Knot Baked Out For This
"Delivery of treats to the other side of the fair took forever," he says casually, like we do this all the time, like his arms around me are normal and expected. "The kids were losing their minds over the cookies. Nearly had a riot."
I lean back into him, unable to help myself, looking up to meet his storm-gray eyes. They're soft, concerned, asking silent questions. My eyes go glassy with relief and residual anxiety, tears threatening to spill.
Instead of showing the anger I can feel thrumming through his body, his gaze gentles further. Then?—
He kisses me.
WHAT.
His lips are soft against mine, careful but claiming, and he tastes like coffee and something darker, sweeter. It's barely a kiss, just a press of mouths, but it rewrites the entire atmosphere.
"What's wrong, our sweet honeybug?" he murmurs against my lips, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Missed us that much? Sorry for taking so long. Should have left Levi here, but you know how tedious he gets about security."
Our. Us. Claiming words. Pack words.
He positions himself so he's practically wrapped around me, a living shield, before slowly turning his attention to Korrin like he's just noticed him.
"Oh, customers." His voice is pleasant, mild, but there's something underneath that makes the hair on my neck stand up. "Want to buy the remaining batch? Last of the day, very exclusive."
"We wouldn't buy this trash if—" Malcom starts.
"Trash?"
Levi's voice arrives before he does, sunshine turned sharp. He appears at the booth's side, flannel sleeves rolled up, looking like a farmboy who could cheerfully commit murder.
"The baked goods that went viral on three separate social media platforms? The ones that have brought more traffic to this fair than anything in the last decade? Those trash goods?" He tilts his head, all fake confusion. "That's rather contradictory, if you ask me."
He moves to my other side, and suddenly I'm bracketed by Maddox twins, their combined scents creating a wall of protection.
"Besides," Levi continues, that dangerous smile playing at his lips, "what's an elite group of cocky fuckers doing at our little farmer's market? Slumming it? Lost? GPS malfunction?"
Our market. Our town. Our omega, the subtext screams.
"Levi," Korrin says slowly, like he's seeing a ghost. "Luca. What are you?—"
"Oh good, you're all here."
Rowan's voice is authority incarnate, cutting through everything else. He's still in uniform from the public safety demo, looking every inch the fire captain who could bench press a car and probably has.
Korrin's face goes through several expressions—shock, confusion, something that might be fear.
"Rowan? What the fuck? These are your packmates now?"
Rowan shrugs, one shoulder, dismissive. "What are you doing in our small town, Korrin? Thought you hated anything little and inexpensive."
He takes in the scene with those amber eyes—me pale and shaking, his friends positioned protectively, Korrin's pack arrayed like invaders.
"Actually, nevermind," Rowan says, and his voice has gone to full Captain mode. "I'm not even interested in your explanation. This booth's closed. Find somewhere else to be."
The authority in it makes everyone in a thirty-foot radius stop and stare. The market's gone quiet, that special small-town quiet that means everyone's pretending not to watch while absolutely watching.
"You can't just—" Alexis starts, her perfect face flushing with embarrassment.
"I can. I am. Move along."
"This is ridiculous," Korrin sputters. "She's just—she was my?—"
"Was," Rowan emphasizes. "Past tense. Now she's under our protection, and you're trespassing on our territory. Leave."
