Page 9 of Wild Thorns

The word hung between us. His expression flickered, surprise quickly masked, and I saw him realize what he'd said.

"Pack, clan, family, whatever you want to call it." The recovery was smooth, almost seamless, but I'd seen the slip. The first crack in the easy transparency. "Small-town Louisiana thing. Everyone's connected to everyone."

"Is that what it is?"

"That's what it is." But his eyes slid away from mine when he said it, and I filed that away. The first thing Jasper Voss didn't want me to see. The first door he'd closed instead of opened.

I could have pushed. Part of me wanted to, the part that had learned the hard way that secrets were dangerous, that the things people didn't tell you were usually the things that mattered most. But I was tired. And the pie was good. And despite everything, I didn't want to ruin this‌ strange, warm, unexpected thing that had walked up my stairs holding a baked good and a smile.

"Okay," I said.

He looked at me. "Okay?"

"Okay. Pack, clan, family. Small-town Louisiana thing." I took another bite of the pie. Let the sweetness melt on my tongue. "I can work with that."

The tension in his shoulders eased. "You're kind of great, you know that?"

"I've been told."

"Oh yeah? By who?"

"Me. I tell myself regularly. Very important for self-esteem."

He laughed, head tipping back, the sound rich and genuine. Something loosened in my chest that I hadn't realized was tight.

We sat there until the sun finished its descent, trading pieces of ourselves back and forth. He told me about the preserve, thousands of acres of protected land that had been in his family for generations. He told me about the Founder's Festival next month, and the crawfish boil I absolutely had to try, and how if I needed a date, he was available.

"That's very forward," I said.

"I prefer 'efficient.'" He waggled his eyebrows in a way that should have been ridiculous and somehow wasn't. "Why waste time with subtlety when we both know I'm delightful?"

"The confidence is really something."

"It's one of my best features. Top three, easily."

"What are the other two?"

He grinned. "You'll have to stick around to find out."

He left when it got dark, with the empty pie dish and a reminder that I could knock on the door of the main house anytime I needed anything. At the threshold, he paused. Turned back.

"The full moon's coming up soon," he said. "Things get a little... energetic around here. If you hear anything in the preserve at night, it's just wildlife. Don't worry about it."

Questions scattered before I could voice them, then he was gone.

I watched him cross the yard to the main house. Watched the lights come on in the windows below. Sat on the porch for a while longer, looking at the magnolia tree in the fading light, its blooms ghostly white against the darkening sky.

I wasn't thinking about anything in particular. That was the strange thing. My brain, which had been running at anxiety-speed for months, had gone quiet. Just me, the tree, and the sounds of evening settling in. Crickets starting up. Something rustling in the preserve. The distant call of an owl.

The Thornwood pack takes care of its own.

I didn't know what that meant. I didn't know what any of this meant: the too-beautiful brothers, the knowing looks from strangers, the warnings about full moons and wildlife. But sitting there with the taste of peach pie still sweet on my tongue and Jasper's laugh still warm in my memory, I found I didn't mind the mystery.

For the first time in months, curiosity felt stronger than fear.

When I finally went inside, I was smiling.

I completely forgot to check the locks.