“He’s one of my deputies and my beta,” Urban said. “He’s also a hopeless flirt.”
Riley grinned. “There’s always one. The last place I worked, it was a guy called Carlos, who didn’t count his day complete unless he scored at least three phone numbers.”
Silence.
The hair on the back of Riley’s neck prickled, warning him. He’d just made a mistake, even though he didn’t know what it was.
Urban tilted his head slightly, his green eyes sharp, and when he finally spoke, his voice was easy. Too easy. “You’re not a freelance writer, then?”
Riley’s stomach turned over.Fuck.He’d let the rhythm of relaxed conversation, the disappearance of threat, lull him into carelessness, and now the floor had dropped out from under him. Urban was watching him like he already knew the answer. Riley hadn’t thought Urban was unintelligent, but he’d badly underestimated just how sharp he was.
“I’ve had a few jobs over the years,” he said too quickly. “Writing doesn’t exactly pay the bills on its own.”
He clenched his fingers around the strap of his messenger bag in case he had to bolt.
Urban didn’t break his gaze. He didn’t shift an inch. Then, finally, he spoke. “Anything else you’ve written I could read?”
Riley pulled a face. “Not unless you want to work your way through my stack of rejection letters.”
They didn’t exist, of course. But if Urban called his bluff, he could mock something up—just cut and paste from all the other times he’d been told he wasn’t enough. Auditions, casting agents, his father.Not what we’re looking for.Amateurish.This isn’t who we are.You carry the family name—start acting like it.
The intercom on Urban’s desk buzzed. Riley barely resisted the urge to flinch as Urban hit the button.
“Sheriff, your next appointment’s here,” Janice’s voice said.
Urban frowned for an instant, as if he weren’t expecting another appointment. Even if the sheriff didn’t get Janice’s hint, Riley did. He also wanted out of this office while he was still breathing.
He pushed back his chair and stood, offering his hand. “Thanks for your time, Sheriff. You’ve been a great help.”
“You’re welcome,” Urban said.
Riley was aware of those eyes studying him as he moved to the door. He pulled it open to find a young guy with tousled shoulder-length hair standing outside the office, his arms crossed, and one of his worn cowboy boots tapping the floor with irritation.
He huffed when he saw Riley. “Guess you had an excuse this time for forgettin’ our lunch date,” he said to Urban, his eyes flicking up and down Riley in a way that let Riley know he’d been well and truly noticed. Not that he was complaining, because this guy had a certain something. It seemed as if they bred them well in Elk Ridge.
And then theoooh,shinypart of Riley’s brain shut off, and he started thinking again. He murmured an apology for keeping the sheriff, stepping past the guy. But as he moved, he couldn’t help glancing back—just in time to see Urban kick his boots up onto the desk, eyes full of amusement and appreciation as he surveyed the new arrival.
“It’s not my fault you’re so damn impatient, Turner,” the sheriff said.
Before Riley could hear anything more, a throat was being cleared next to his ear. He started and looked around to find Janice staring meaningfully at him.
“You get everything you need?” she asked.
Riley could take a hint. He could also tell that Janice Underwood was going to watch every single thing he did if he stayed in that office, so he left the building and made his way to the nearby park.
There, his legs finally gave out and he collapsed onto a handy bench. Fuck. The intensity and threat in Matt Urban had been like standing in front of a loaded gun. He had no idea if all alphas were like that, but if they were, he could see why shifters scared normal people.
He paused.Normal people. He’d never even noticed the language he used about shifters. Urban had a point, and he hated that he’d needed to hear it.
Puffing out a breath, he pulled his pad from his bag. It had been nerve-wracking, but he’d come out on top. Urban would never have let him go without saying anything if he’d known what Riley was up to.
Bolstered by that thought, his triumph of earlier was back as he noted on his chart that Bryce was Urban’s deputy and beta. He also wrote downTurner.That guy had been so comfortable with Urban that there was little doubt in Riley’s mind he was part of the pack. Not that Turner was important—the only ones that mattered were the ones in charge—but he liked to be thorough.
He itched to follow up on those two leads, but his growling stomach reminded him it was well past lunchtime. Putting his notebook away, he set off for the diner where he could grab a bite and check if Jason’s smile really was as spectacular as he remembered.
Chapter Five
JASON
