For an instant, Riley wondered what would happen to the Elk Ridge pack when he broke his story. Would they need to go into hiding to keep themselves safe from scared, violent humans?
But he pushed that thought away. If the pack was hiding something dangerous, they deserved whatever came their way. Not that he kidded himself he was doing this out of some sort of civic duty. He wasn’t that kind of guy. Never had been. He was doing this because it was his last chance before he got sacked from the paper for being as damn useless at being a journalist as he was at everything else.
His editor had made that perfectly clear when she’d assigned him to this story. Amy had stood at the borrowed desk he was camped out on, and told him that this was his last chance. “Either you break this story, or you’re gone. This paper’s not a charity.” The newsroom had gone silent, and Riley had wanted to die on the spot.
Drawing a deep breath, he pushed those thoughts away, because otherwise he’d end up sitting in the dark, clutching a bottle of beer and hating himself. Instead, he stared at his piece of paper, wondering where to begin. He then realized there was only one placetobegin, and that was with the solitary shifter he’d so far identified.
He’d do nothing more today. That would allow time for news of the travel writer to get about, so that people would be more likely to talk to him. Tomorrow, he’d go and see Matt Urban.
JASON
“Goddammit, Jason—what the hell are you doin’?”
Jason jerked out of his daydream to find thick black smoke rising from the pan he was supposed to be stirring. “Shit.” He snatched it off the heat and dumped it into the sink, running cold water over the charred ruins of the shallots.
“I don’t know squat about cooking, but I’m guessin’ that smell ain’t part of the plan,” Jesse said. “You okay?”
Jason nodded quickly. He wasn’t going to tell anyone about Riley, or tomorrow, or the way his stomach was knotted up inside at the very thought of it. It wasn’t like it was even a date. Or was it? Jason didn’t know. He’d never been on one before.
Sure, there’d been a few drunken come-ons when he’d worked at bars over the years, but never for anything more than a quick screw. No one had ever really looked at him. No one had ever wantedhim—just his body, for a way to fill time. Jason had always figured he’d wait for the right guy, for something real. But he’d been waiting so long, and he was beginning to realize it would never happen.
“There you go.” While Jason had been lost inside his head again, Jesse had made him a mug of Dave’s fruit tea and put it on the table, pulling out a chair in unmistakable invitation.
“I hate this stuff,” Jason protested, as he sat down. Even the smell of Dave’s tea made his stomach turn.
“Everyonehates it,” Jesse agreed. “But you look like you need something, and coffee’ll have you climbin’ the damn walls. What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” he mumbled, and could feel the heat in his cheeks.
“Show me what needs doing for dinner, and you can tell me all about nothin’ while I get started,” Jesse said.
Jason wondered when Matt’s mate had turned into their pack’s caretaker. Bryce usually had that role more than covered, but it turned out that suspicious, mouthy Jesse Turner had a streak of kindness a mile wide. The trick was to pretend not to notice, otherwise Jesse made a bad-tempered hornet look sweet.
“This guy came into the diner today,” Jason said at last.
Jesse made an encouraging noise to the potato he’d started peeling.
“Ms. Taylor flirted with him, then she told him to—well, he wants to see the town for this guide book he’s writing, so I have to show him around tomorrow.”
Jesse glanced up. “Who’d want a guide book about Elk Ridge?”
“I know, right?” Jason agreed, relieved that was the part Jesse had homed in on. He should have known better.
“So this guy…” Jesse put down the peeler and looked him dead in the eye. “What’s he like?”
“Oh, you know, just a guy.” Just the hottest, sexiest, most amazing guy Jason had ever seen.
He got the feeling from Jesse’s expression that he hadn’t needed to say that out loud. Jesse was smirking as he put a chopping board and pile of onions in front of Jason and handed him a knife.
“If he’s just a guy, why’re you more on edge than a cat in a dog pound?”
Jason took a sip from the mug in front of him and remembered why he hated the stuff Dave drank by the bucketload. “I like him, Jesse,” he confessed. “I mean, I don’t even know him, but there’s something about him, and I know I’m going to screw this up. I don’t even know what this is, but if it’s something, if itcouldbe something, I’ll mess it up.”
“You don’t—”
“I don’t know what to say, or what I should wear, or if he evenwantsto do this, or if he’s just being polite,or—”
“Jason. Slow down. Only one way to find out if he’s into you—you gotta meet him tomorrow.”
