Page 3 of Small Town Shy Omega (Applewood Falls #1)

Lightly, softly… to tell me that he would do as he said, and his pack would stay in line.

Respect my space, my nest, my privacy.

“We are at your service, sweetie,” and I heard Blake’s Alpha purr, low and gentle. “Anything you want us to do, we’ll do.”

“You can start with the dishes,” I murmured later that afternoon, after they’d all gotten settled. I had two sinks full of dishes; my sherbet cookies required lots of clean-up, and sometimes I grew so tired I could hardly do the dishes.

For weeks at a time, sometimes I would just add to the pile… My sink had so many dishes, I could not reach my Lilles that I had not watered in a fortnight now.

Blake bowed, picking up the sponge right away.

“At your service,” he growled, filling my sink with hot water and suds.

I learned the other two names: Josh and Dreydon.

Josh was the movie star Alpha, the one I thought looked like a golden retriever. The one with the kind, emerald eyes.

And Dreydon?

Shudders swept across me, and I had to pinch myself to remain standing. Dreydon was… scary, menacing. And very, very large.

He masculinely burst through the kitchen doors, growling as a bit of plaster ripped off. He was too big—too big to fit through my cottage doors, and I sensed he’d stretch out… every door that I had.

Dreydon whipped through my dishes, alongside Blake while Josh? He took out my three garbage cans that were overflowing, bringing them straight to the trash.

I was just a small-town girl. I rarely left my cottage, and when I did it was only to go to the farmers’ market. Most days I hardly remember to feed myself, especially if I smoked a bowl in my art studio.

“My lady,” Blake growled, bowing before me… after the pack whipped through the dishes.

Blinking, I could hardly believe they’d washed up so fast. I mean, my entire kitchen was sparkling new—other Alphas certainly hadn’t done that.

“We want to make it official, Layla. And we want to have your consent.”

Blake slid a paper form in front of me. I signed it, appreciating how much they valued my consent and personal space.

The form stipulated that:

— They were not allowed in my nest nook without my consent

— They could only use the dilapidated guest bath

— They were to work in my service for at least six weeks

— If I went through a heat, they could not impregnate me with a thorough discussion pre-knotting

“How do you feel about knotting?” Josh asked, his voice mellowed out from his earlier growls.

I shrugged, sipping some hot raspberry tea they made me. “I mainly crochet, but I knit too.”

“No, knotting.”

Oh. Ohhhh. Not knitting.

“I…” I’d never been knotted before, but I wasn’t about to tell my Alphas that. “I’d rather not.”

Josh shot a look at Blake. “We need knot condoms. In case…”

“In case she goes into heat,” Dreydon growled in response, and my heart flittered.

My eyes swept up to the tall, immense grizzly-of-a-man, Dreydon. He towered over the others at the table, his frame bulging and massive.

When Dreydon spoke… I sensed death lurked under his words, like in another life he could’ve been the grim reaper.

Or a mafia boss, I feared. A hitman, or maybe in a motorcycle club.

Or a grizzly shifter…

A shudder went through me, my Omega slipping back into her cage. “Welp,” I said quirkily, rising from the chair, “this is getting awkward!”

My Alphas just stared at each other. Then, Dreydon pulled some whole-wheat flour out of his canvas farmers’ market bag, and Blake rose to sift it.

Hours later the smell of raspberry-chocolate brownies wafted through my cottage. My nose sniffed the air, and I drifted along the scent line straight back to the kitchen.

“My oven,” I murmured, furrowing my brows in confusion, “hasn’t been used in many months.”

“We got it up and running,” Dreydon growled, his mittened hands pulling out the brownies. “Try one, Layla.”

“Drey,” Josh growled, shooting a firm look Dreydon’s way. “They have to cool, bro.”

“Sorry,” Dreydon growled, scrunching his face. “ Fuck, I almost fucked up…”

“It’s okay.” I went to Dreydon, calmly patting his shoulder. Touching the beast… scared me. “Breathe.”

He took a deep, shuddering breath—and I was so glad, his breath was so strong yet so controlled, and I did not feel even for one second—that he would fly off the handle, throw the muffin tin, punch through the drywall like my last pack.

Dreydon simply… set the muffins down. He removed them one by one, putting them on a drying rack.

“I need,” Dreydon growled, unable to look me in the eyes… “Some time alone. I’m going for a walk, enjoy your muffins Layla.”

He left.

And in his wake, I ate a muffin and mourned. I mourned the beast’s absence. He had such immaculate control over his emotions. He was unlike any Alpha I’d ever met. And it was somehow both deadly and yet… protective.

Over the next few days, the pack and I became… if not friends, then acquaintances.

With our consent contract out of the way, I didn't have to worry about the Alphas launching themselves at me, or just… forcing me to the kitchen. Chaining me to the range, as my last pack had done.

They just… talked to me. Spoke, laughed. Blake even asked if he could give me a nuggie one day, and I shrugged.

“Sure, why not,” I mumbled, and he couldn’t hear me so he asked me to repeat myself.

He did, and I was nuggied.

Okay, no big deal—so my Alphas nuggied me, they joked with me, and they even roasted me hot dogs and marshmallows one night over a crackling fire.

Stars came out, and Blake pulled out a guitar—and he hummed, just hummed. He didn't sing or anything, just hummed a camp song, something by Taylor Swift or something like that.

I rested my head on Dreydon’s shoulder, and I had to admit—I liked that he didn’t make me run.

He didn't touch me, didn’t—do anything to me, or say anything without my consent.

He just… let me rest my cheek.

Pillow, on concrete. Yet, his concrete bicep, was not total iron—velvet shrouded it, and when I rubbed my cheek, it felt like wool.

Wool, I thought, my Omega purring out. I use wool in my nest.

I wondered whether I could use Dreydon’s bicep in my nest. Someday…

My Alphas performed work for me. And they even let me talk about my feelings, share my opinions.

While we were talking after dinner one night, Josh did something I didn't see coming. I was just sitting there, speaking about something my stepmom did ages ago. It wasn’t even important, and I didn't expect anyone to care.

But my tea mug was running low, and without even asking, without even making me stop speaking, Josh got up to refill it.

It was such a little thing, and honestly I shouldn’t have even cared. I should’ve just brushed it off, as some less emotional Omega would’ve done. Okay, he refilled my tea? And? Unfortunately I just wasn’t that Omega.

When Josh brought me back my tea, I was blushing from head to toe. “Thanks,” I mumbled, and he probably thought I was insane. He just shrugged, turned to Blake and said something. It’s like he didn't even notice how much this meant to me, the significance a little gesture could have.

But I… noticed. I saw, and I kept that memory.

And I compared it to all the other packs I’d dated, the ones who wouldn’t have thought twice before just letting me refill my own tea.

I know it sounds stupid, but when I compared Josh and my new Alphas to my old, failed relationships, my heart saw the difference.

So silly, I chastised myself, sipping my tea as Josh and Blake talked about some man stuff.

Dreydon chimed in too, and I just listened…

sitting there, because I’d talked about my stepmom for so long, and I was grateful for a pause.

They just talked about guy stuff, like tuning up my car or a NASCAR race or something like that, and I drank my tea.

My cheeks were pink, and I’m sure they hardly even noticed.

A few days later, Dreydon did my laundry totally without asking. I was just mixing myself some cereal, when whoosh —a breeze ruffled my purple hair, and when I turned my head over my shoulder, there was Dreydon.

He was carrying a load of darks, and he murmured a song to himself as he brought it down to the laundry room. Like he didn't even realize, this was laundry I had in my pile before they even came.

This was dirty laundry. Crap I wasn’t even sure I’d neatly placed in my basket, and Dreydon just… did it. Did it without asking, without even bothering or bugging me. I was literally just eating cereal, and I felt him go past, and then I heard the sound of the washer.

My heart hummed, and I mixed some raspberry tea, confusion swirling through my brain. What… was going on? I wondered, because in none of my past relationships did this happen.

Most guys did not do laundry, and by laundry I meant theirs, not mine. Omegas did the laundry. And if an Alpha dared get off the couch, quit playing video games for two seconds, if he dared exhaust himself so to do laundry, he made a big deal out of it.

Oh fates, an Alpha doesn’t typically do laundry without letting you know he’s doing it. He clears his throat and grunts, making sure his Omega is aware that the big, strong tough Alpha has the washer on the spin cycle.

My guys?

Nope, Dreydon just… carried my laundry to the machine. He washed it, dried it, and when I came in from my afternoon meadow walk, my blouses and sundresses were on my bed, neatly folded.

I picked them up, bringing them to my nose… and tears almost popped out of my mauve-and-sparkle eyes, while inhaling. Everything smelled fresh, like Dreydon hung out all my laundry in the sunshine. And, as I have no dryer, I had to assume he had.

My laundry, I thought to myself, tears welling. It was so stupid, and I felt like I was definitely hormonal or some shit, because what else explained my reaction? Dreydon cared for my laundry.

It was nice, to have clean laundry, that you didn’t wash. Probably not a big deal, but again I’ve never once had anyone else do my laundry—or do it without bitching.