Page 8 of Breaking the Alpha (Serpent’s Tongue Ink #2)

A ngelina clicked the lock, walked into her shop, and propped open the door with the pretty, floral-painted doorstop she’d bought from an artist online.

She tucked her purse under the till, turned on the soft harp music she favored, and sat in the bamboo rocker she’d picked up for a song at a flea market two towns over.

There was a tiny price tag stuck under the seat which refused to come off without stripping the finish, but she also was in no hurry to sell the piece.

After all, her long days were made infinitely more entertaining by people watching the strip mall clientele from the relative peace of Wholly Yours.

Of course, it was also an ideal spot to greet Zoe as she strode in, two coffee cups in hand. “I’ve waited six long days, girl. Spill.”

Feigning ignorance, Angelina accepted the drink with a smile and rocked in her favorite chair. “Spill? Well, I got a new shipment of anklets coming in this week, if that’s the gossip you’re hoping for.”

Zoe’s dark eyes narrowed into accusatory slits. “I watched him approach you. You talked to him. You know who. That Ocean or Lake dude.”

“I talk to a lot of people. It’s a perk of owning a store.” When her retort was met with a light kick to her shin, she laughed. “Fine. Yes, I talked to River. Yes, he’s a sweet guy. And no, there’s not much else to say.”

Zoe sat on the knotted rag carpet (which was currently selling for eighty dollars) and crossed her legs. “I don’t care if he’s sweet. Did he drag you up to his room and do unspeakable things to you?”

“How could I tell you if they were so unspeakable?”

The exasperation on her friend’s face was priceless.

“You’re the worst best friend ever. You bag the most delectable hunk of man who’s ever graced this town, and then give me zero details?

I mean, come on. Those fuck-me eyes? Those biceps begging to be licked?

And I know damn well he has a v-cut because no man’s shirt dips in like that if he doesn’t. ”

Shaking her head to clear the memories of River, she sighed. “He isn’t a steak. Stop slicing off the best pieces and admiring them.”

“Do you have any idea how long I would chew on that?” Zoe growled before she grinned and looked up. “Seriously, though, there’s no way a man like that was sniffing around and you just talked. That would, frankly, be a crime against womankind everywhere.”

“Fine.” When Zoe straightened and leaned in, she bent down and lowered her voice to a whisper. “We had Mexican. Best enchiladas of my life. And now he’s probably back in LA doing LA guy things.”

With a groan, Zoe stood. “I’ve got to get to work, but for the record, you suck. And apparently not on the right thing if all you did was inhale tacos.”

“Enchiladas.”

She smirked as Zoe flipped her off during the entire walk to her car.

She’d been under no illusion about the few scant hours she’d spent with River in his hotel room last week. They’d been nothing more than two strangers sharing a circumstantial moment, turning up in the right place and connecting at the right time when River seemed to need it.

And maybe even when she needed it.

The last decade of her life had been spent working toward inner tranquility, toward achieving a sense of peace and calm in a world that was anything but predictable or kind.

She was an island of peace unto herself.

A lone beacon. She drew her strength from the inside because she’d learned long ago that she was the only person she could count on to watch out for her, to put her first, to keep her safe.

For her, emotions were safest when they were dampened and kept in line through deep breathing, personal mantras, and meditation.

Frustration and anger were tempered, sadness and fear were acknowledged but not indulged, excitement and joy were experienced without the need to grasp for more.

But one night with River had her grasping.

He’d set her on fire.

And, as terrifying as the idea was, she wanted more.

It took less than four hours for some model from LA to mess with her equilibrium.

His intriguing combination of strength along with a masked vulnerability he couldn’t quite keep out of his incredible green eyes had drawn her in.

It came in flashes, in flickers so quick she would’ve missed those brief insights into his true self had she looked away or blinked.

Her desire had spiked to levels she didn’t know she could feel when he’d given up control to her, when he’d hesitated long enough to let her know that he didn’t trust easily.

Then came the sadness.

Disappointment.

And, if she was honest with herself, anger.

They’d walked into his hotel room knowing it was nothing more than a fling, a few hours of fun and a decent meal.

Except it wasn’t fun. It was electric. Intoxicating.

Addicting. During her years of using her voice and body to build up a nest egg large enough to overhaul her life and leave her past far behind and away from her present, she’d never once done it in person.

Never once wanted to do it in person. Online, there was a barrier keeping her viewers as distanced as she wanted them to be.

It had never been sexual for her. If anything, her work had made her even more cool.

Frigid, according to the rare man she dated.

But from the moment she’d stepped into River’s hotel room, she’d wanted to seduce him.

Not fuck him. Seduce him. She’d wanted him wrapped in her voice and her words, craving every sound from her lips and watching every movement of her hands.

She’d wanted him to think about her long after he returned to LA, wanted him to wake up with the sensation of her fingers ghosting across his inked skin.

Because unless she was willing to blow her savings on a trip to Los Angeles and spend months walking the streets looking for a man whose last name she didn’t even know, all he’d ever have of her would be his memories.

With a long exhale to relieve the tension and remove the negativity of her thoughts now clouding her day, she grabbed her latest delivery and slid a knife along the tape.

It was impossible not to smile when she saw the Himalayan salt lamps nestled in the mulberry silk scarves she’d ordered a month ago during a late-night shopping spree.

She lifted them out one by one, admiring the unique shapes and pink hues of each lamp before she focused on the scarves, their bright colors perfect for her summer tourist clientele.

Taking the time to rearrange her window display, she placed her newest acquisitions front and center, sticking her handwritten price tags on each and angling them just right to show off each lamp’s deepest swirled tones.

Once she was satisfied with the presentation, she slipped off the raised platform, picked up her hand-dyed purse, and stepped outside to see her newest products through the eyes of potential customers.

“Good morning, Miss Watson,” a fellow shop owner, Birch Baker, called out to her from four storefronts down. “How has business been this month?”

Birch owned Serpent’s Tongue Ink, a place that made the local news a few months ago when the police had raided it and Birch’s partner, Ryder Drayson, was hauled off to jail.

While the investigation was still ongoing, it hadn’t stopped reporters and gossips from speculating what had gone down.

And although most agreed Birch was likely innocent in the fiasco, it didn’t ebb the flow of rumors surrounding Birch and the oldest Baker brother, Winter.

The timing was less than ideal, given that the grand opening of Wholly Yours was held mere weeks before everything went wild for Birch, but she didn’t begrudge him the major hit the strip mall had taken during those few tense weeks.

She knew all about being dealt a rough hand in life.

Once she was able to wade through the small-town gossip, she decided Birch was one of the good guys—even if he did project a sullen, do-not-start-with-me aura.

Besides, he was her first customer.

She smiled at him and gestured toward her new display. “It’s getting better every month. How’s the ink business treating you?”

“Running me ragged,” he replied with an uncharacteristic grin. “Good thing my brother is in town for a while to help out. He’s a piercer so I’ll be swinging by later to stock up on jewelry, okay?”

“Great! I have some new pieces I think your clients will love.” With a wave, she went inside to prepare her till for her first sales of the day.

It was a boon to her business to have some of the local entrepreneurs supporting her.

Birch had purchased all her piercing jewelry on opening day and given her strict instructions to let him know whenever she received a new shipment.

The owner of the spa three stores down had totally emptied Wholly Yours of candles on day two.

In return, she often recommended her own customers to check out the tattoo shop for unique pieces and would rave about the services offered by the spa.

She was building a community. It wasn’t a close one, but it was a community nonetheless.

She had a friend. A handful of casual acquaintances.

A store. A safety net. It was more than she ever thought possible back when she would lay awake in yet another new bed in another new house with another new family who didn’t particularly want a teenage foster kid, but decided a girl would be easier than all the boys who rotated through the system at twice the speed.

All she needed now was—

“Excuse me, miss, my boss asked me to come by and—what the fuck?”

She looked up from her cash counting and was unable to hide the surprise and guilt in her expression when she saw River standing in the doorway, frozen half in and half out of the store with his hand on the knob.

He stared at her, his eyes darkening with anger moments before they lightened with a mix of understanding and a little sheepishness.

Then he cleared his throat, stepped in, and let the door chime finish its song before he spoke.

“I mean, hi, Angelina who lives in Wisconsin. Fancy running into you here.”