From the shadows in between the trees, furry forms slink forward. Praying that the wolves are from Pine Falls, I realize that with them, the interlopers from Bear Valley are outnumbered at least two to one.
“You’re not taking our librarian,” snarls a deep voice. And I’m shocked to realize the declaration came from The Rabbit Hole’s bartender.
Moose has barely spoken ten words to me since I moved to town, although I guess I do know some intimate details about his life after that run-in outside of Hester’s house. Still, I didn’t think the guy cared.
And, hell, his use of the wordour, like this town has a sense of ownership over me, should piss me off. But it does the opposite. A warm relief spreads through my chest.
This is what I was searching for years ago. The reason I parked my car in Bear Valley. They showed me a false face, pretending they were perfection. Convincing me they could be home.
But that was a lie.
This isn’t.
There’s a force of wolves at my back, swearing to fight for me. Not because I’m their property or because another pack stealing me is some kind of slight.
But because I’m one of them.
And that’s why I turn away from Mick and face a true pack leader. I step right up to Roderick, and with my sore fingers, I grip the collar of his shirt and tug hard until it tears slightly.
My wolf doesn’t show shock. Not in a way that anyone around us can tell. But I see the flicker in his eyes. The slight flare in his nostrils.
“I don’t need you to defend my back while I run.” The words are steady as I speak loud enough for all to hear. “Because I’m done with that. I’m staying in Pine Falls.”
A twitch pulls at the corner of Roderick’s mouth. If we were alone, I know he’d be grinning. “You didn’t have to rip my shirt to tell me that.” Amusement is the slightest color in his tone.
That’s where he’s wrong.
“I don’t know everything about your customs, but I seem to recall the mating ceremony requiring a bite.” My fingers graze the taut skin of his chest, right over where his strong heart beats a proud rhythm. “Here, I think. Do I have that right?”
Roderick tenses, his whole body unmoving, yet homing in on me.
There’s movement behind Roderick’s shoulder, and I glance in the direction.
“Food first. You need to share food.”Thad tells me with his hands.
Food? Of course. That’s the catalyst for the common werewolf flirting technique.
For a moment, I’m frustrated that my plan has been thwarted. But then I realize I’m not without surprises.
Thank the gods my apron didn’t come undone in my wild bid for freedom. In the pouch pocket, I pull out a smashed, slightly melted bar of chocolate.
Should serve nicely.
“Juliet”—the rough way Roderick speaks my name has me pausing—“you don’t need to do this.”
When I meet his eyes, the doubt shadowing them hurts my heart. I realize how spur-of-the-moment this must seem to him. The last interaction we had, there was still a thick cloud oftension suffocating the air between us. All of that born from my fear of the future he painted.
But my werewolf hasn’t been in my brain these last few days. He hasn’t witnessed the introspection that finally had me realizing just how hung up I had been on my past.
Roderick doesn’t know that I already decided I wanted him in my future.
So, I guess I have to tell him—with an audience.
“I was making you éclairs when that asshole showed up.” I don’t look at Cory, just wave a hand in his general direction. My entire focus is on Roderick. “They were apology éclairs. But they were also can-we-please-make-this-work éclairs? And I-love-you éclairs.”
Roderick’s jaw clenches like he’s mashing his teeth together, and I might be fooling myself, but I think there’s a sheen in his eyes.
“Juliet.” This time, when he says my name, there’s a small catch on theT.
