“Such a kinky Little Hummingbird. Anyone need coffee?” he asks.
“Me please. You look good in my kitchen,” Briar admits, watching as he moves around and serves everyone.
We’re sitting at the island, and the sun shines through the windows surrounding us. It’s a happy, bright house, exactly where I would imagine Briar living.
“A new bookshop is opening today,” Briar says. “It’s combined with a winery. The sheriff’s sister is working there, and he told me about it.”
“I love books,” Willow sighs. “I’m definitely a mood reader, but when the story sucks me in, there’s nothing better.”
“Agreed,” Briar laughs.
“Then I guess that’s what our plans are,” Atlas says. “I don’t need to be at the club tonight. Hazel has things under control there, so I’m all yours.”
“I’m off today,” Briar adds.
I watch as they talk and laugh, and then I’m filling my belly with food as Atlas slides a plate in front of me. My life has slowed its pace since moving to Colorado. I’m missing what I lost less than I used to every day, and Willow and I are finding things that make us happy.
She kept me going when I was depressed and broken. There’s nothing worse than a dancer who can no longer make art with their body. At least, not until they can find a substitute for what was their oxygen.
Willow and I always keep clothes in a bag in our car for emergencies. This ensures we can roll with whatever life throws at us. My girl is impulsive, and we’ve decided to go on road trips with very little preparation. It means every day is different, and I’m definitely never bored.
Once we’re all dressed, I realize how late it is when I glance at my phone for the first time today. It’s almost eleven in the morning. I rarely sleep in this late, despite my late nights. I’m more likely to take a nap to break up the day.
Atlas drives us into town, and I’m once again amazed by how beautiful Widows Peak is. The mountains seem to guard the town like sentinels, reminding me of how likely they are to get snowed in later in the year.
Briar’s hand slides into mine as we walk, and I play the game I often will with Willow.
“What can you tell me about the people on this street?” I ask as we stroll.
Briar’s eyes light up, and she talks our ears off about the different store owners. It’s clear she really fucking loves this town. I decide then and there that as things get more serious, Willow and I will move into Widows Peak so our omega can stay here. It’s definitely not a hardship, I’m already enamored with this town.
“Quick! They’re going to do the ribbon cutting soon. Run!”
Briar takes off while Atlas groans.
“Come on, Old Man,” I tease him, chasing after Briar with Willow on my ass.
“Ohh. He’s definitely going to get you back for that,” she laughs.
His heavy footsteps behind us make me perfume, and he stumbles as he growls.
“I can’t help it,” I call over my shoulder. “I like to be chased.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he rumbles.
My cheeks hurt from smiling so much, and I slow down as Briar arrives at Boozy Bookshop. The store is trimmed in blue, and the picture windows show a reading area, lots of shelves, and a cozy spot for hanging out with friends.
“I’ve always loved reading,” a woman says with wild brown curls. She’s wearing glasses and reminds me of a beautiful librarian. “When this spot opened up in the square, I knew it had to be mine.”
“That’s Lilian,” Briar murmurs. “She moved here six months ago.”
Nodding I watch as Lilian is almost brought to tears as she cuts the ribbon to the store, and I can see how proud she is. We’re the first people to go inside, and Willow breathes in the scent of books. There’s nothing quite like the way a bookstore smells. The four of us get lost in the shelves, and Willow and Briar both find a stack of books to buy.
We decide to enjoy a glass of wine once they check out, and go through all the books they bought.
“I’m in the mood for a really fucked up mystery,” Willow says, her blue eyes glittering with excitement. “I hate it when I can figure out the twist. It just kills the story for me. I want to scream and rant at the end, knowing the author pulled the wool over my eyes.”
“Is there murder in that one?” Atlas asks teasingly. I swear, it’s as if he asked if she wanted an orgasm with her book, because her eyelids grow heavy with desire.
