“But he looked...” I stop, not sure how to describe what I saw in his eyes. That flash of something raw before he locked it down.
“Cara, honey.” Grandma’s hand lands on my shoulder. Gentle and warm. “That went better than you think it did.”
“He called me Ms. Donovan. Twice. And walked away.”
“He also caught you before you hit the ground.” She squeezes my shoulder. “That man has had ten years to build walls. They’re not coming down in one morning. But you made a crack.” She pauses. “Come inside. Your lips are turning blue.”
She heads back in, leaving me standing on the porch for a moment longer.
The driveway is empty. Perfectly cleared. Every inch of snow removed, every step salted.
The work of an alpha who’s been doing this for a decade. Storm after storm. Whether I was here or not.
I follow her into the warmth of the kitchen.
My arm is still tingling where his fingers gripped me. I can still smell pine and woodsmoke clinging to my sweater from that brief moment when I was pressed against his chest.
I’ll always catch you.
He kept that promise. Even after everything I did. His body still moved to protect me before his brain could stop it.
That has to mean something. Right?
“Oh, and Cara?” Grandma calls from the living room.
“Yeah?”
“You might want to change your sweater before you go anywhere. You smell like pine trees and desperation.”
I look down at my sweater. The one I pressed against Nate’s chest.
She’s right. I absolutely reek of him. His scent all over me, mixed with mine, broadcasting to anyone with a functioning nose that I was just in the arms of an alpha.
In a town full of people who know exactly whose scent that is.
Great. Just great.
But as I head upstairs to change, I’m not thinking about the embarrassment. I’m thinking about the way Nate’s heart raced under my palms. The way his scent spiked when he looked at my mouth. The way his body moved to catch me before his brain could stop it.
He can call me Ms. Donovan all he wants. He can walk away every time I try to talk to him.
But he still caught me.
And that means some part of him still cares. Even if he doesn’t want to.
Nate Thorn isn’t going to make this easy. Neither are the others.
But I didn’t survive ten years of guilt just to run away again. I owe them the truth. And if they’re going to avoid me, then I’m just going to have to get creative.
I can do this. I can be brave.
Probably.
Chapter 4
Nate
Her scent is still on my jacket.
