I nod, trying like hell not to respond too quickly because on one hand I want to ask him if he’s lost his damn mind. But on the other, that asshole’s not on my porch anymore. Pushing a hand through my hair, I realize I owe him an acknowledgement ofgratitude. “Well… thank you. It just caught me off guard I guess – that along with that caveman display.” Not that I hated that, and even now, it draws my attention to those damn forearms.
This seems to make him look away as he rubs the material at his shoulders, which is stretched tight. “Yeah well, if I can credit my witless brothers with teaching me one thing, it’s how to preen like a fucking peacock.”
His words are so unexpected, I don’t know what to say, and I wait for him to say more. A blush spreads across his cheeks, but he doesn’t offer anything else. So I change the subject. “What the hell do I do now? He’s going to follow up, going to be watching every clerk’s office in the tri-county area.”
“I know.” He nods at the floor, placing his hands on his hips. “Just hoping it bought you some time. Is it even true?” He looks up. “He could’ve been pulling anything out of his ass to scare you into signing it over. Have you seen the will?”
I shake my head as my pulse quickens. “No… Mima always told me the place reverted to me when both she and Granddad were gone, and I never felt the need to see it. She always had everything in order, down to her fucking sock drawer.” My voice is starting to waver, and I turn away and head to the kitchen, mostly just to move. I feel Wolf’s presence following closely behind me as I yank open the drawer closest to the back door, where Mima kept her address book and other important contact information. “I always felt secure with her word,” I continue, more for myself than for Wolf’s benefit. I keep voicing everything I know out loud as I find the contact book and start flipping through it. “There’s no other next of kin, and they told me all the time, they wanted me to inherit it and take care of it so it could stay in the family…”
The last word out of my mouth hits me like a Mack truck, and I trail off. I look up from the addresses and phone numbers. I can’t keep this land in the family if it ends with me. I’d needto start a family of my own to continue the legacy, ensuring this place stays safe.
“What is it?” Wolf’s voice zaps me out of my wandering trance.
“Nothing.” Shaking my head, I make a calmer attempt at looking through the address book. “I mean… I don’t know. I need to get a hold of my lawyer.”
“Were you planning to get married? Like is there anyone…?”
As if. “No.” My gaze lands on the name Karla Scott. She’s been a family friend for years, though I haven’t spent much time with her. She practices law and stayed in Ironvale Ridge to take small time cases like last wills and testaments, and I believe she helped my grandparents. “No, I mean, I’d always hoped to get married one day, but there was school, and then Mima got sick so I had to come back, and— Anyway, there’s no one chomping at the bit for the job if that’s what you’re asking.”
My mind trips over the words no one, and I drop my elbows to the countertop and push both hands through my hair. I can’t believe this is happening. Things have been rough, but endurable. I’ve been getting by, but this… This makes me feel lost. And scared. I’ve already lost so much. Whatever scrap of a mom I once had. My grandparents. They’d taken care of me in a beautiful home in a peaceful place, giving me comfort and safety. But something faceless, some kind of phantom, lurked deep in my subconscious. And this place has always been my touchstone, protecting me from that. I don’t know if I can bear losing my home.
My eyes start to burn and flood with moisture, and I lift my head in a fruitless effort to keep them from falling before gently dabbing at them with the back of my knuckle.
“What can I do?” The rumble of Wolf’s voice floats on the still air of the kitchen.
“Nothing.” I sniff and fan at my eyes quickly before reaching for a tissue near the fruit bowl. “You’ve done enough. Sincerely,” I’m quick to assure him. While I thought it was a crazy thing to do in the moment, I now realize he did buy me some time and space to think about what to do or if there evenisanything I can do. “Thank you, really,” I finish and pull open another drawer in front of me to retrieve a pen and notepad for any notes I might need when talking to Karla.
I chance a brief look at him, my eyes flitting up to his. Those dark mossy greens seem to be braving a storm of contemplation, like he’s thinking hard about something. I’m sure there’s some tiny sympathetic bone deep in the withdrawn crab’s body somewhere that allows him to feel bad for me.
“It’s no problem, but I’ll leave you to it, then.” He turns and ambles in the direction of my front door. A moment later, the sound of a door opening and closing echoes.
I try to ignore the bizarre feeling that starts to invade my chest cavity. It’s got a mild foreboding tone to it, as if I’ve just lost my anchor, or maybe even a security blanket.
It’s nothing,I tell myself as I put my phone on speaker and dial Karla’s number. After four nerve-racking rings, voicemail picks up, and I leave a brief message, following the prompts to mark it as urgent before hanging up with a hard sigh.
I rub my forehead while I try to decide what to do next, be it pace around the house or hide under my covers. Then, the front door opens and shuts again, the assertive quality to it making me jump, causing my heart to beat wildly. But I quickly stand down—I never heard Wolf’s engine turn over. It’s got to be him… and
I’m proven right when he strides back into the kitchen. “What if it was me?” His question hits me before I have a chance to speak.
I feel my brows pull inward. “What?”
“What if I was the guy for the job?”
“I’m still lost.” I shake my head and raise my brows, encouraging him to elaborate.
His shoulders drop as he lets out a breath. “I could marry you for real.”
9
WOLF
The drive home from Molly’s house is surreal.
Did that just happen? Did I propose marriage to a girl I’ve met three times?
My brain keeps telling me this is wrong and way too extreme, especially for me, but for the life of me I can’t turn this truck around and go take it back.
Eyes on the road, I pull at the tuft of hair at the back of my neck as my mind replays the scenario, trying to dissect what I was feeling, what I was thinking, and what triggered my decision making.
