It’s time to find my voice and allow that tiny flicker of fire that sits nestled deep in my chest to burn.
“Um, I spend a lot of time outdoors. Hiking and gardening, mostly. I knit, too, but nothing fancy. I only know one stitch, but if you ever need a scarf or a blanket, I’m your girl.”
I jump when my phone chirps with a text message.
Pulling it from my pocket, I cringe at the number of texts and memes Jameson has sent in the few brief hours I’ve been here. I can’t decide if I’m flattered or annoyed by his constant onslaught of messages.
As I scroll, I see a meme that makes me chuckle, so I decide I’ll throw the guy a bone and respond.
But my fingers freeze over the screen when that deep voice—warm and teasing a moment ago—erupts from every corner of the shop, dripping with possessive, barely-contained rage.
“Everyone you know knows you’re here. So, who’s making you smile at your phone like that?”
The sound slices through the quiet, curling tight in my chest. I scan the shop, caught somewhere between a shiver and a spark, looking for the man who just turned jealousy into foreplay.
There’s the boundary-pushing asshole from this morning.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but Eve set me up with someone. We’ve been texting back and forth for most of the day. He seems sweet, like a man who knows where to draw the line when it comes to women.”
A self-satisfied smirk curls one side of my mouth while I lightly graze the book spines on a nearby shelf.
Why am I trying my damnedest to piss off the stupidly hot nightmare in a suit standing only a few feet away?
After what happened between us a few minutes ago, I might be poking a monster, which sends a heated thrill through my body.
The idea of being possessed by this man makes every sensitive part of me ache.
My feminist theory teacher would be so disappointed.
But, on the other hand, fuck Ezra and the personal questions he has no business asking.
A quiet, vicious sound shivers through the air right before Ezra appears in front of me.
How the hell did he do that?
I’m too shocked to move, and as my heart tap-dances in my throat, I realize I’m all alone with a man I barely know.
He wouldn’t hurt me … Would he?
Anger blazes in Ezra’s eyes when he looks down at me. There’s an ominous shadow lurking behind him, growing and shifting forms until it finally settles on a huge canine with deer antlers.
It’s beautiful and terrifying.
It’s not a wolf or a shepherd or any retriever I’ve ever seen.
Is that a massive Irish wolfhound?
The other shadows were playful and mischievous.
But this one? This one feels dangerous.
It’s almost like Ezra’s shadows mirror his moods.
But … that’s impossible.
That’s fantasy and monsters and the supernatural, not reality.
I shift my eyes from the terrifying shadow back to the seething man standing in front of me.
