Stupid sexy principled wolf.
Except hehadwanted to. His eyes had burned with the desire for more than a kiss. Her lips itched to trace over his scruffy jaw. Her palm tingled at the memory of the play of muscles on his chest. He had wanted her, and he had said no anyway. His nonsense about the cookout counting as some sort of date… Well, that was a whole other ball of yarn.
She was nearly through the self-checkout lane when her phone buzzed in her purse. She fished it out. About time.
“Hi,” she said, phone between her ear and shoulder as she stuffed her credit card back into her wallet.
“Oh, good, you’re not dead,” Claire said.
“Not in the slightest.”
“I’ve texted you at least eighteen times.”
“Yeah, the signal sucks there. They probably got lost in the cyber-void.”
“There? Nothere? Where are you?”
“Buying groceries.”
She had shoved her wallet into her purse, grabbed her bags, and nearly made it out of the store before Claire spoke again. “You’re cooking? He’s making you cook?”
“I volunteered because he doesn’t know pesto from alfredo. Literally.”
“Mmkay, letting that one go for now. What’s the general state of things? How’s Quinn doing with his pack and this guy in particular?”
“Aaron.”
“Right. You don’t sound like you’re planning an abduction, so that’s something.”
She got to her car and began setting bags on the front seat. She set the eggs alongside the gear shift, where they wouldn’t fall as she navigated twists and turns. “I’m not anymore.”
“Well, maybe it’s the eighteen texts with no response, but I need a minute to recalibrate. You went out there ready to end every last one of them—in public opinion if not in actuality. Now you sound perfectly calm.”
She told Claire almost everything, without interruption. About Quinn’s bond with his pack, his need for them she hadn’t comprehended before. About the misunderstanding between Poppy and whatever wolf had arrived to take Quinn home to Lunar Lane.
“That doesn’t make sense,” Claire said.
“I know. I can’t explain it, but it wasn’t Aaron’s fault, and I don’t think the alpha would deceive her either.”
“What about the rest of them?”
“I met most of the pack last weekend—just surface socializing mostly, but I didn’t get danger vibes, Claire. Quinn’s really happy here.”
“I’m glad.”
“But I do want to get to know them better, as many as I can. I think we’re going to visit the nearest neighbors today.”
Or not, if Aaron was hurting too much. For some reason she couldn’t tell Claire about the bear, about his wound and his semi-lucid desperation to end the animal’s suffering. She couldn’t tell Claire about the trust and friendship between Malachi and Aaron, couldn’t describe how she’d seen it ran as deep as what she had with Claire.
“A reasonable approach,” Claire said in a tone that hadn’t forgotten Ember’s original approach. “It’s good for you to have a detailed picture of Quinn’s community, the people who’ll be looking out for him.”
“I think so too.”
“And in the meantime, you’re cooking. For Aaron.”
“That’s right.” What was with her and the cooking?
“Ember.” A thespian pause ensued while Ember navigated back to the highway. A pause she knew well and would not rise to. At last Claire said, “What are you cooking tonight?”
