Page 4 of Alpha’s Sunflower Smiles (Sweet in Silford #8)

Chapter 4

Pete

I really should have stayed away but I was feeling sorry for myself.

I’d stayed at the office late last night and gone home with a headache, which only got worse when I’d checked my phone and saw that I had a dozen messages from Papa, telling me that he was disappointed in me.

I thought by morning, my headache would have gone but it was worse.

I’d need to sort the whole situation out but I couldn’t think what to do that would work out for the best.

My feet carried me over to Sunflower Smiles without my consent.

The door chimed as I went in and Wilfred looked up and smiled.

His smile slipped from his face and he moved out from behind the counter and came right over to me.

“Is everything alright? You look awful.”

I blinked at him, trying to think of something to say.

For some reason, my brain caught on the idea that I looked terrible and I wanted to peacock around to show him that I didn’t always look awful.

It didn’t help that Wilfred was wearing a silver-grey shirt that made his grey eyes seem to shine, and he looked absolutely captivating.

Clearly I had taken too long to answer because Wilfred said, “You know, I’ve got some excellent tea for that. Come out the back and I’ll make you a cup. It’ll get rid of that stress headache.”

“How did you know I had a stress headache?”

“Oh, um, I suppose I just… looked? Were you in a rush?”

I hesitated.

I probably should leave and get to work, and let Wilfred get on with his day, but I didn’t have the strength to say no to spending some time with him.

“A cup of tea would be really nice, actually.”

He smiled again, and I swear it worked like a balm on my soul.

My headache was already retreating.

“Sure, come through. I’ll get you settled and then we can chat.”

I followed Wilfred through to a workshop-slash-office and looked around, taking everything in.

It was a surprisingly large space, easily twice the size of the actual shop.

And it was cluttered and smelled of clay and lavender.

He pointed out a few of the things while he was putting the kettle on.

There was a potter’s wheel and workbench and so on.

It looked well-used.

I could tell immediately that Wilfred spent a lot of time out here.

He moved around the space so easily, stepping round a stack of boxes beside the desk.

I watched him work.

When he handed me a steaming mug, I took it, raising it to my nose to smell the aromatic tang of the herbs.

Normally, herbal tea smelled too flowery for me but this one was actually very pleasant.

It had a fresh scent without being floral.

“Do you normally give away tea, as well as candles?”

He smiled at me again and – again – I was struck by how natural it seemed for him to do that.

He beamed at me as though he was just enjoying being in my company.

“I only give tea to special people, too.”

“Do you have to write this down on your list of things you’ve given away?”

He waved a hand.

“No, I’ve already written off that packet of tea because Richard was stressed the other day from looking through these accounts. I don’t think I need to write it down again. Although hang on!”

He leapt up and hurried over to the desk, rifling through some papers to find a post-it note and scribbled on it.

When he came back, I raised my eyebrows in a question.

He shrugged sheepishly.

“I might have given away a test product, and I need to ask Richard if that counts or not.”

I nearly smiled.

“So you give away things all the time?”

“Not all the time!”

“Only to special people?” I teased.

“Exactly!”

“But already today you’ve given away two things to two special people.”

He looked flustered, but he stood his ground.

“I gave away the test product yesterday, and only to a special person. How’s the tea?”

I didn’t know whether he was trying to change the subject to divert us from talking about him giving things away or from me probing deeper into who else he considered special.

I’d seen him deep in conversation for hours with what appeared to be random customers, but by the time they’d got to know Wilfred, they were firm friends and they always came back to the shop eventually.

I nearly asked how special those customers were, so I could get an idea of where I was in that hierarchy.

Instead, I took a sip of my tea.

“Actually, it’s delicious.”

Wilfred nodded with satisfaction.

“Hopefully it’ll ease your headache a bit.”

I took another sip and we sat there in silence for several moments.

Most people would rush to fill the silence and I’d expected Wilfred to chatter away.

Instead, he sat beside me and looked content.

It made me feel content, too.

Our moment of peace was ruined by the door chiming as someone entered the shop.

Wilfred stood.

“Excuse me, I have to go and help that customer. I think it’s Mrs. O’Malley come to collect her vase.”

With that, he left me in the workshop while he went out the front.

I was surprised that he’d just left me there alone.

He really didn’t know me that well and he shouldn’t trust me around all of his personal things.

I took a deep breath, enjoying the fact that my head had stopped pounding.

I stood and walked around a bit.

I told myself that I was just browsing, taking a look at the interesting things that Wilfred had out here but somewhere deep inside I knew it wasn’t that.

My instincts were all over the place where Wilfred was concerned and something inside me was squirming uneasily.

An alpha’s instincts could get difficult to control – difficult but not impossible, and any alpha who claimed otherwise was an asshole making excuses.

Normally, I channelled my instincts in a healthy way.

I took note of them, realised what they were urging me to do, and then found a healthy, consensual way to act on them.

My instinct to protect my papa, for instance, was sated by making sure his house was safe.

I fixed his gate and had the whole place rewired when it started sparking, to make sure Papa was secure and not in danger.

This time, however, I wasn’t sure what my instincts were telling me to do.

I prowled round the area, trying to work out what was wrong.

What had made my alpha instincts rise at this time and this place?

Nothing seemed out of place, nothing jarred me or stood out.

Nothing had been moved recently.

Everything was clean-ish in the way that a craft workshop was, in that it had been swept and dusted and wiped down, but there were still splodges of paint and varnish on everything.

Nothing was too dirty.

Nothing was too clean.

I couldn’t get any information from the room that explained why my protective instincts had surged up in me.

Behind me, I heard a surprised, “What are you doing in here?”

I spun round to see Richard behind me.

I asked, “How did you get in?”

He gave me a sassy look.

“Through the door.”

Behind him was the door to the back of the building and it was closed now.

I hadn’t heard it open or close.

“Did you unlock it?” I asked.

“Why?”

“Humour me.”

“No, Wilfred unlocks it in the mornings. I just came in.”

My instincts roared inside me.

Okay, at least I’d finally established what was making them play up.

This place was a security nightmare.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” I explained to Richard, who was giving me some serious side-eye as he hung his coat up on the peg behind the desk and turned on the computer.

What was worse was that Wilfred definitely wouldn’t hear anyone come in, not from out in the shop.

Which meant somebody could sneak in, if they wanted to, and…

And what?

I didn’t want to think about the possibility that they’d hurt Wilfred.

It was unlikely.

But there was a whole load of expensive, specialised equipment out here.

Yeah, it wasn’t the risk to his tools that was making me uneasy, was it?

It was the risk to him.

Richard put his hands on his hips.

“Are you out here alone?”

“Yes.”

“Well I’m going to have to ask you to go back into the shop. This area is for staff only.”

I was so relieved to have found the cause of my internal conflict that I didn’t argue.

I followed Richard meekly out to the shop, where he began to berate Wilfred.

“You can’t let random people into the workshop, you know.”

“Pete’s not a stranger, though, is he?” Wilfred nodded at me as he said it, as though that illustrated his point.

Richard shook his head.

“He could have messed with anything out there, Wilfred.”

“He was only drinking a cup of tea.”

“He was totally unsupervised.” Richard turned suspicious eyes on me.

“Did you touch anything?”

I cleared my throat, since Wilfred was starting to look panicked.

“I didn’t get a chance. I’d only just got in there when you came in.”

“Well I’ll have to ask you to stay out in future.”

I nodded, catching Wilfred’s eye.

He seemed happy to let Richard talk for him but, as I studied him, I realised that he was restraining a smile.

I needed to know why.