Page 32 of Bonds and Beasts

Adison is eyeing me like a ticking bomb. Her perfume is wilted but not decayed.

"Are you all right?" I ask, moving slightly closer to her. She makes sure that no one's watching and then reaches for me first, and I don’t think that's ever happened before. Her hands find the front of my shirt, plaid with the sleeves rolled up to match my role as a small-town vegetable farmer. She presses her face into my chest and nuzzles, scent-marking me. A purr vibrates up from my chest completely unbidden.

"What was that for?" I ask.

She looks up into my eyes. Hers are large and green and full of care. "It was for you. Just, for you."

Adison

We still have to wait for Bello and Easton to finish up with their scene, so Dean leads me to the food tent. Mrs. Portidge is inside serving homemade sandwiches and finger foods. She isn't the only one behind the tables though. A sandy blond head pokes up over one of the folding tables, starstruck blue eyes fixed on Dean.

He gasps before whispering loudly enough for everyone to hear, "It's Buck McDee."

My hand flies to my mouth to cover a grin. The child can't be more than five years old and wholeheartedly believes that Dean is his most famous action hero: Buck McDee, the greatest, toughest cowboy to ever live. Dean glances at me out of the corner of his eye but doesn't miss a beat.

"Yes I am. What's your name, buddy?" he asks, getting down to the little boy’s eye level.

"I'm Colt!" he declares proudly, placing his tiny fists on his hips and puffing out his chest.

"Colt is my grandson," Mrs. Portidge explains. "His mother had to work today so I'm watching him. No one seems to mind." She glances at Dean but he doesn't seem to register her wariness.

"And why would they? We can always use more action heroes on set," Dean declares. Colt looks like he's about to drop from excitement.

Mrs. Portidge lets out an obvious sigh of relief before turning to me. "How are you, dear? Do you need anything?" A certain warmth fills my chest. Mrs. Portidge was always there for me before my designation. She was as close to a mother as I had after my own passed. I missed her maternal nature and her care.

"No, I—" but before I can finish, someone calls my name behind us.

"Adison! Oh my God. Mrs. Portidge said you were in town and I hardly believed her."

I turn and my heart feels like it's trying to bang its way out of my chest. Stomping toward me is an omega my age with a blonde pixie cut and striking green eyes. Despite her familiarity, I notice changes. The feeling is probably mutual.

"Lisa, I was going to call, I just—"

She sweeps me into a hug. No anger for not hearing from me in a year. No horror at what happened at the birthday party she attended. No discomfort. It's like no time has passed at all. We were friends before and we're friends now, and nothing that happened in between has changed that.

"Mrs. Portidge filled me in a bit," she says into my hair. I glance at Mrs. Portidge, who's wiping away happy tears with the edge of her sleeve. "She figured you wouldn't want to retell the whole awful story over and over again, so she came to tell me."

"I'm sorry I didn't call right away. It's been a lot," I explain, even though she's made it clear she doesn't care.

She pulls away to look at me. Her face falls into a more serious expression, mouth a flat line, gaze searching mine. "Are you okay? Really?"

Emotion chokes off my airways and tears spring to my eyes that I do my best to blink back. I definitely wasn't all right a few days ago, but now… "Yeah, I'm all right."

Lisa's eyes snap to something over my shoulder and the scent surrounding me tells me it's definitely Dean. I turn to find him eyeing Lisa and searching my face. It's clear he doesn't like my tears.

"Is there an issue here?" he asks.

I smile and swipe at the moisture. "No. Dean, this is my best friend Lisa. We've known each other since we were born. Lisa, this is Dean, my—" I pause. My what? We haven't bonded. We haven't even gone on a courting date yet. Thankfully, Dean, who's probably used to filling in information and handling awkward encounters, takes over.

"I'm Dean. I'm part of the pack courting Adison," he supplies smoothly. There's no point in trying to cover our courting now. He's right, there's no way that reporter doesn't run it on the front page in whatever tabloid she works for.

Lisa gapes and openly stares at Dean without taking the hand he's offered. "Dean? Like Dean Halloway, the famous movie star?"

"No!" Colt cuts in forcefully. "He's Buck McDee, the best cowboy in the West."

Lisa looks from Colt to Dean.

"Both, I guess," Dean concedes.