Then the whispers start.
“Is that Beast?”
“Who’s the woman?”
“Thought he hated people.”
Heat crawls into my cheeks as I realize the scene we must be making. Dorian stiffens. His arms tighten around my waist for half a second before he steps back, putting too much space between us.
His expression shutters, the softness becoming harder. More distant.
The loss of his warmth leaves me oddly disappointed.
“Shaw,” the blond man says. “Name’s Sol Steele. I’ve been looking for you.”
Dorian’s gaze snaps to him like he forgot he existed. “Why?”
Sol smiles. “I heard you were a man of few words.” When Dorian doesn’t reply, he says, “I’m here to talk to you about a project with other retired vets in Montana. It’s run by Derek Fletcher.”
Recognition flickers in Dorian’s gaze. He grunts. “Not here.”
“Why not?” Thomas asks from the table beside mine, leaning closer so he can hear.
I laugh.
Dorian’s attention swings back to me instantly, as if the sound catches him off guard.
And just like that, the tension in his shoulders eases a little.
I can’t believe he’s really back in Hollow Peak. With me.
And just as a happy glow settles in my chest, my phone pings with a text message from my mom, draining it right back out.
She’s pushing me to meet with that realtor again. But I’m not sure I want to.
Dorian’s hand closes gently around my wrist. “What is it?”
“Just my mom about Grandmama’s estate.” I look at Sol, then back at Dorian. “When you’re done here, will you come to Florine’s house?” There’s so much I want to say.
His thumb brushes over my pulse point. “I won’t be long.”
There’s a promise in his gaze that makes my stomach tingle with butterflies, stronger than anything I’ve ever felt before.
I grab the files from the lawyer I met with this morning, then reach for the toppled chair so Mae won’t yell at me.
Dorian is there first. He sets the chair in place, holding my gaze.
“I’ll see you soon?”
He nods.
Every eye in the room is focused on us. Forty-plus people paused in their conversation to see what we do next.
Typical small town. No need to feel awkward.
Except I’ve never felt so awkward in my life. Holding the files to my chest, I squeeze by Dorian and hurry toward the door.
The moment I’m outside, I draw in a deep, cleansing breath of late winter air. My shoulders begin to relax, and warmth blooms in my chest.
