I follow suit, trying to carefully consider my next words. Unfortunately, the beers I already drank are making that hard to do.
“He seems interested in you,” is the best I come up with.
Zoey snorts. “Well, that’s a mistake on his part.” Her fingers pinch at the marshmallows, checking if they’re melted enough to be sandwiched between chocolate and graham cracker. “I mean, I’m leaving town as soon as my grandmother’s cabin is cleaned out. So, getting hung up on me is a big pile of pointless.”
The words both reassure me and bum me out. I try really hard not to frown as I pass the box of graham crackers her way.
“That makes sense.” With effort, I keep the forlorn note out of my voice and reach into the cooler to dig out another beer.
Zoey hums happily beside me as she bites into her treat.
I know it’s safer if she leaves, but a selfish part of my heart wishes Zoey were also setting some roots down in this small mountain town. I just started this friendship with the web designer. She’s been coming into the library the last few weeks to utilize our Wi-Fi, and we finally bonded over a romance novel she was checking out.
No need to dwell on the fact that it was a biker romance.
Honestly, I thought I’d hate any book with bikers after Cory. But for some reason I don’t want to examine too deeply, I’ve enjoyed reading about a hot guy on a motorcycle wooing a badass chick.
Maybe it’s because the lady usually knocks him down a whole buttload of pegs before she agrees to let him anywhere near her pants. And then he treats her like a queen, eviscerating anyone who dares to hurt her.
But that’s fiction. This is real life, as strange as it seems. And in this world, it’s better if Zoey and I keep our distance from sexy biker men.
Our happily ever afters can’t be found with monsters.
11
RODERICK
A weekafter Juliet’s little camping trip, I’m still hung up on the vague answers she gave to her friend about her reasons for moving to town. The librarian is hiding something, and it’s my responsibility as leader of the Pine Falls pack to find out what.
She could be someone dangerous.
She could be delicious, my wolf adds.
“Shut up,” I mutter, the words lost in the roar of my bike as I head to the edge of town.
The sun tints the sky with brilliant colors as it sinks behind the peak of one of the many mountains surrounding Pine Falls. As evening approaches, I know where I’ll be able to find a good portion of my pack.
The Rabbit Hole. The pack’s bar. Mainly, it’s those of us who ride that chose to congregate at the old wooden building, but some other members looking to surround themselves with our kind will stop by throughout the month.
But I’m searching for one wolf in particular. When I pull into the parking lot, I spot his bike immediately. A royal-blue 1971Moto Guzzi Ambassador. Warner helped Thad refurbish the bike a few months after the wolf joined our pack. Thad hadn’t ridden the classic motorcycle for years before moving to Pine Falls. Apparently, the Bear Valley wolves were more selective about who could ride with them, making it clear to Thad that whether he had a working bike or not, he was on his own.
The discrimination makes me sick. Every wolf in my pack deserves my respect, care, and consideration. Sure, a few make it harder than others, but that’s to do with shitty personalities.
From what I can tell, Thad requested to join our pack in the hopes we’d be better and hasn’t found reason to regret the move.
We’re lucky for the addition. The guy is a tech wizard, and he has a great mind for money. He’s doubled the funds in the pack bank account since I handed the reins over to him a month after he joined us.
One of the best decisions I made as leader was accepting Thad into the fold.
Hopefully, the guy is feeling grateful.
When I walk into the bar, I get greetings from all different directions. That’s the life of a leader, but luckily, no one approaches me with an issue to solve. I’m able to hand out some nods and head to the bar, where I spot Thad accepting a beer from Moose, The Rabbit Hole’s owner and bartender. With a single finger raised, I indicate to the hulking, tattooed brute that I’d like one too.
When Moose acknowledges my order with a chin tilt, Thad swivels on his stool. The wolf offers me a smile and a signed greeting, which I return. No indication that he’s still pissed about my dismissive treatment of the librarian. Maybe she told him that I’d reached out.
Not that my first foray to the library went well. But I fixed the electricity in that dilapidated cabin she bought, and I’minstalling her fucking security cameras, so Juliet had better not be shit-talking me around town.
Once settled on the stool beside Thad, I take a swallow of my beer, and then I get straight to the point.
