My phone buzzed with a text from Oliver:Stop overthinking. Just be yourself tomorrow.
I snorted. Of course he knew exactly what I was doing.
Easy for you to say,I texted back.
Not really. I'm just as curious about her as you are. But pushing won't work with someone like her. Let her come to us on her own terms.
He was right, of course. Oliver usually was when it came to reading people.
Noted,I replied.See you tomorrow night.
We were all planning to meet up after my visit to Daphne's—a debrief of sorts, though none of us were calling it that. Thepack wanted to know what I thought, whether she seemed open to getting to know us, whether there was any real potential there.
The truth was, I already knew the answer. There was potential. More than I'd expected. The question was whether Daphne would let herself see it too.
I spent the rest of the evening finishing some repairs on the cabin's front porch, the rhythmic sound of hammer on nail oddly soothing. By the time I headed to bed, my muscles ached in a satisfying way, and my mind was finally quiet enough to let me sleep.
But even in my dreams, I saw her—standing in her garden, sunlight catching in her hair, looking at me with those guarded eyes that held secrets I wanted to uncover.
Wednesday morning couldn't come fast enough.
Chapter Nine
Daphne
Wednesday morning arrived with a pale, watery sunrise that painted the sky in shades of pink and gold. I woke earlier than usual, my stomach a knot of nerves I refused to acknowledge.
"It's just agricultural advice," I told myself as I pulled on my work clothes—worn jeans and a faded green henley that had seen better days. "He asks some questions, I answer them, he leaves. Simple."
But nothing about this felt simple.
I braided my hair with more care than usual, then immediately felt foolish for it. Why did I care what I looked like? This wasn't a date. It wasn't anything, really. Just a neighbor stopping by.
A neighbor who happened to be an extremely attractive Alpha who'd somehow gotten tangled up in town gossip that painted me as his potential mate.
I groaned, splashing cold water on my face. "Get it together, Daphne."
I made coffee—my own, not waiting for whatever Garrett might bring—and stood on the porch with my mug, watching the mist rise off the fields. The morning was quiet, peaceful. Exactly how I liked it.
So why did part of me keep listening for the sound of a truck coming down the road?
I busied myself in the greenhouse, checking on seedlings that didn't really need checking, adjusting things that didn't need adjusting. Anything to keep my hands occupied and my mind from wandering.
At exactly nine o'clock, I heard it—the rumble of an engine approaching. My heart did a stupid little jump that I immediately tried to suppress.
"Breathe," I whispered to myself. "You're in control here. This is your property, your rules."
I stepped out of the greenhouse just as Garrett's blue truck pulled up near my gate. He climbed out, and I had to admit—he cleaned up well. The flannel was gone, replaced by a plain gray t-shirt that fit him entirely too well, and his hair looked like he'd actually bothered to comb it this time.
He held up two travel mugs with a tentative smile. "Morning. I brought coffee like I promised. Though I'm guessing you already had yours."
I couldn't help the small smile that tugged at my lips. "I did. But I won't say no to more."
As he walked toward me, I noticed the way he moved—confident but not aggressive, like he was trying to take up as little space as possible despite his size. Like he was afraid of spooking me.
Smart man.
"Thanks for letting me come by," he said, offering me one of the mugs. Our fingers brushed as I took it, and I tried to ignore the little spark that ran up my arm at the contact.
