When it comes to werewolves, there’s no guarantee of a relationship staying casual. Would I like to lick every inch of Roderick’s body and have him return the favor? Sure. But only if a few hot and heavy nights were on the table and not a magical life-long commitment.
Why can’t he go back to thinking I’m an annoying outsider?
I blame pie. I never should have made him the lemon cream.
I never should have tasted his strawberry rhubarb.
Fucking werewolves and their obsession with food gifts.
In my need to use a prop to accompany my apology, I forgot the significance of offering a wolf something edible. I basically asked Roderick if he wanted to be my boyfriend.
But shouldn’t he realize that wasn’t my intention?
Maybe I shouldn’t have muddied the waters by making out with him in my kitchen.
“What are you doing here?” I whisper-yell through a very fake smile.
Roderick rests his elbows on the checkout counter, leaning closer to me, face as serious as ever. “Taking you to lunch.”
“And I told you there was no point.” My smile is hard to hang on to. “We’re friendly acquaintances. You want a book? I’ll help you find a book.”
“I want you.”
The definitive way he says those three words has me shivering, and I can tell his sharp eyes are tracking the reaction, which only angers me more.
“What about whatIwant? Does that matter?”
His brow furrows. “Of course it does. Last night—” he cuts off when I hold up a staying hand.
Dr. Tsosie, the library director, just turned the corner, walking toward us. We might be friendly, but I do not need my boss to hear about the orgasm I had on my kitchen floor, given to me by a biker werewolf.
Best to keep that separate from work.
“Fine,” I hiss. “I will take my lunch break in your vicinity, and we can talk. But it’s not a date, so don’t try using that terminology.”
Roderick gives a sharp nod and straightens, dragging his eyes over me once before striding out the door. Through the glass, I watch him settle on a bench out front. Waiting for me.
Damn it to hell, I do not want to deal with this.
Odina Tsosie smiles when she reaches the front desk. “Ready for your lunch break?”
Despite being the director of the library and therefore not needing to take a turn on the circulation desk, Dr. Tsosie schedules herself here at least twice a week. She says it keeps her skills sharp and maintains a connection with our patrons.
One more reason I think she’s an amazing boss.
I appreciate this woman so much that I’m almost on hero-worship level with her. Besides Thad, Odina Tsosie is the only one in this town who knows about my past. Odina was friends with Angie Smith, director of the Bear Valley Public Library.
I confessed to Angie my plan to escape Cory after she saw a particularly nasty set of bruises on my arm. My old boss offered to hang on to the documents with my new name, and she gave me the beat-up station wagon that had belonged to her father and never got used.
Then, when I mentioned Pine Falls as one of the places I was considering running to, she reached out to a friend she’d made at a past library conference—Dr. Odina Tsosie.
After I had one video call with Dr. Tsosie, she offered me a position here, promising there would be no connection between Abigail Green and Pine Falls Public Library. That day, I sobbed alone in my office, hopeful of escape for the first time.
Those two women helped me escape Utah without detection and start a new job under my new name.
So, yeah, anyone who wants to say something bad about Odina Tsosie? They can fight me.
When I smile back at her, I hope my expression doesn’t appear too strained. “I’m ready. Be back at one.”
