“Could you leave some of the fennel ones?” Tristan asked.
As one, the pack turned to look at him.
“Colby kinda likes them?” he said defensively.
Figured. Christian had known there was something wrong with Colby, right from the start. He’d been sitting silently at the end of the table, and right now, he looked like he wanted to disappear through the floor.
“Sure,” Dave said, easy as ever. “Any others?”
“How about all of them,” Christian suggested, leaning over and grabbing another croissant.
“Just the fennel, thanks,” Tristan said.
Dave finished filling his box of supplies. Tea, of course, but also snacks, vitamins, and a beeswax wrap full of homemade granola.
Christian didn’t say a word, but watching Dave pack like this—quiet, careful, like he was preparing for some gentle granola apocalypse—made something in his chest feel warm. Dave was treating this like they were going somewhere they’d be welcome, as if the world wasn’t one long series of rejections. Christian loved the way Dave trusted. He hated it too, because Dave would only end up hurt and disappointed, and there were some things even Christian couldn’t protect him from.
* * *
They were loading their bags in the jeep when Jesse wandered out the front door, half-eaten piece of toast in his hand. He stood watching, quietly enough to draw Christian’s attention.
He glanced at Jesse, an eyebrow raised.
“Just don’t go sticking your head into any hornet nests,” Jesse said. Then he pointed at Dave. “Andyou,don’t go upsetting the locals with your caterwaulin’.”
“We still haven’t done pack karaoke night,” Dave mused, and Jesse choked on his toast. Surprise or horror—Christian couldn’t tell. Possibly both. The idea of Dave in front of a microphone was enough to makeanyonenervous.
“Hey,” Jesse said, as Christian opened the jeep door. He turned, and Jesse was silent for a moment, looking like he was struggling with something. “Be careful,” he said at last. “And, yeah, you know.” He shrugged. “Thanks.”
Christian held his gaze and nodded once. He wasn’t great with words either, but he understood what Jesse was saying. What he was trusting them with.
“Don’t let Matt maul too many of the politicians,” Christian said. “Save some for the rest of us.”
Jesse turned to go in the house, and Christian watched him a moment longer. He still looked too thin. He’d been pale and quiet for days after his memories had returned—worse, he’d lost his appetite, and Jesse never passed on food.
Now, Christian and Dave were heading off to go digging through the bones of his old life. No wonder he looked stretched tight. What if they found something? What if theydidn’t? Christian didn’t know which would be harder on Jesse.
As he got in the jeep, his wolf turned restlessly inside him, almost like it didn’t want to leave this place. He ignored it, because he didn’t know what to do with that reaction. He’d never been anywhere long enough to call it home.
Glancing at Dave, who was fastening his seatbelt, he found himself grinning. He and Dave had neverbeenalonetogether. Not really. The rest of the pack had always been around. And now, even though they had a job to do, they’d have both space and time to themselves.
Chapter Two
CHRISTIAN
It was late afternoon by the time they pulled into Silver Rock, the sun just low enough to make Christian squint as he drove. He missed his damn jeep. This rental felt like a tin can—the eco-friendly kind, because Dave had given himthatlook when he’d hovered over the Mustang on the booking site. He’d given in, but neither his spine nor his pride looked like forgiving him anytime soon.
Dave went to check them in to the motel, and Christian prowled the parking lot. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for—threats, maybe. Easier than standing still and pretending to care about reception-desk small talk.
Dave was good at that kind of thing, easy and calm, the kind of man people opened up to without even realizing. Christian didn’t always understand how he did it, but he’d come to rely on it.
Dave reappeared a few minutes later, sliding a keycard into his pocket. “We’ve got it for three nights. Should be easy to extend, if we need longer.”
Christian’s attention had already shifted across the street. A sign in the bakery window readWorld’s Biggest Cinnamon Rolls. It was not a subtle ad. It also wasn’t a fair fight.
Dave followed his gaze. “Seriously?”
“Give me one reason I shouldn’t.”
