“It’s—it’s not like that,” I stammer.
“Mmhmm. Now, what can I get for you two? I see your little lady eyeing those waffles on the menu.”
Cora looks up, and her expression is close enough to longing that my chest cracks open with a sharp kind of grief.
“Sorry, baby,” I murmur to Cora. “No waffles today.” I order the cheapest things I can find on the menu. White toast and scrambled eggs for Cora, who doesn’t even complain at being denied the waffles. I can’t even afford to get her juice with her breakfast, and she doesn’t pout when I order water.
“And for you?” Dolly asks.
I shake my head. “I’m fine. That’s all.”
I’m suddenly very aware of the fact that I’m being stared at again, and when I glance over at the table a few spots over where the two Alphas have settled, they’re both looking this way again.
Dolly follows my gaze and lifts an eyebrow when the sheriff—Everett—gestures her over.
“I’ll put that in for you,” Dolly says and then goes over to the Alphas. “And what can I get for you, Sheriff Kane?”
“Not for us,” Everett says. His voice is low and rich, and that little, stupid part of me is trying to poke its head up all over again. “For them. The waffles for the little girl, extra whipped cream if she’s allowed to have it. Eggs with cheese, bacon and sausage.” He pauses and eyes me before nodding shortly. “The French toast platter with hashbrowns, sausage, and orange juice for the table. Put it on my tab.”
I blink, caught off guard and completely stunned by the gesture. “You don’t have to do that,” I say quickly. “We’re fine, you don’t need to?—”
“I want to,” he says in that low voice. There’s a finality to it, like it’s better not to argue with him, but he somehow manages to make it not threatening.
For her part, Dolly is beaming. She gives me a look that clearly says she was right about these Alphas being good guys. “Coming right up,” she says. “And I’ll bring out a pot of coffee for you two.” She dashes away before I can say anything else.
My cheeks burn, and it’s part shyness, part humiliation. It’s clear that these two men can see what I am. Despite the suppressors that I’ve been taking to tame my hormones, it’s written all over me that I’m a rejected Omega, from the way I hold myself to the faint marks on my neck.
I’m the kind of charity case that makes good Alphas feel noble.
The shame makes my skin crawl, but… Cora. She’s sitting up in her seat, and her eyes are brighter than they’ve been in ages. I can’t deny her this chance to get some real food in her, especially since I have no idea when the next time she’ll be able to eat a real meal will be.
I keep my eyes on the polished laminate of the table top, tracing old condensation rings left behind from hundreds of other diners over the years.
It doesn’t take long for the food to come out, and even I have to admit that it smells amazing. It’s a feast compared to what we’ve been eating lately, which usually consists of dinners put together from fast food value meals and gas station snacks.
The server sets a huge plate in front of Cora, and her eyes go wide at the mound of whipped cream on her waffle. There are just as many strawberries at least, and a mound of fluffy scrambled eggs with cheese melted into them.
The French toast is golden and griddled to perfection, and the bacon and sausage smell savory in a way that makes my mouth water.
When I glance up, Everett is watching our table again, like he wants to make sure that everything came out well. I swallow and force myself to speak up.
“Thank you,” I say. It’s weak, the shame making it hard to put anything else into it, but he doesn’t seem fazed. He lifts his coffee cup in a little toast and then goes back to his conversation with Lincoln.
Cora looks at me, a question in her eyes. She hasn’t touched anything yet, like she’s waiting for permission. That more than anything breaks any final resistance to accepting this meal.
“Go ahead,” I tell her, forcing a smile. “We get a treat this morning.”
That’s all it takes. Cora pours syrup on her plate and digs in, getting her hands sticky and her face covered in whipped cream.
I apply myself to my own breakfast, biting into a sausage link and trying not to moan with pleasure at the taste of it. It’s a little spicy and perfectly salty, and my body is remembering with vivid clarity that it’s been days since I ate anything even approaching enough.
I savor every bite, but all the while I’m definitely aware that the Alphas are watching us from the counter. They’re having their own conversation, which I can’t really hear, but the low murmur of their voices is a constant sound. I can feel their curiosity like a physical weight, which means I have their attention and now they’re trying to figure me out.
That’s the last thing I want.
It would be nice to linger over a meal like this, but that would be dumb. The best thing to do is to eat enough and then get out of here. The sooner I get back to the garage, the sooner I can pick up the car and we can get back on the road and leave this little town with its nosy Alphas behind.
So I eat as quickly as I can and then wave Dolly back over. Luckily, Cora has stuffed herself with waffles and eggs, and is sitting back with her hands on her stomach, blinking slowly.