A window opened near them and Sage said, “Tell Canyon to go away.”
Timber turned to Canyon. “You heard her. Scram.”
Canyon walked away, confused. The yard was dark, so he didn’t go far. He stopped just behind the car where he could still hear and see.
The door opened. Sage White crossed her arms over her chest, stared Timber down, and demanded, “What the hell do you want?”
Timber turned to Canyon and whispered inruhi,I’m scared. She’s tiny but terrifying.
You're doing great, Canyon said.Is she your mate?
Timber turned back to look at Sage and she openly glowered at him.
“What seems to be your problem with Officer—” He turned around again and looked at Canyon. “What's our last name?” he whispered loudly but Canyon wasn’t listening. He was watching Sage. She moved strangely, like she was zonked out on something. Slowly, she reached for Timber, touching him in the chest, then she ripped his name tag off its Velcro base and threw it in his face.
“It's Wheeling, dipshit,” she said, then she dropped the nametag on the ground between them.
Timber laughed. Sage’s face lost its hostility as she grinned at him.
“Did we just become BFFs?” Timber asked.
Sage rolled her eyes. “No.” She slammed the door.
Timber turned around and walked off the porch, his expression confused.Damn, she’s not my mate either,he said.
62—Baited
Sage backed away from the door, her emotions in turmoil. She went to the couch and checked her phone. No messages. She went into the kitchen, grabbed a dry sponge, and wiped the counter, her eyes on the front door, her thoughts heavy and chaotic.
She’d loved Canyon Wheeling and he’d ripped her heart out, and here he was… doing what? She couldn’t make sense of what was going on. She vacillated between despair and anger… and settled on anger.
She stalked back to the door and ripped it open. The two males stood there, taking up all the room on the porch.
She held out her wrists. “Go ahead, lock me up. It was worth it.”
Canyon turned toward her with interest. “Arrest you for what?”
Sage jabbed a finger at his stupid face, where a bruise was lumping up on his cheek. “For hitting you.”
“Shiiiiiit,” Canyon said. He partially-shifted, his face becoming furry and lupine, then melding to human again, minus the bruise. “No harm, no foul.”
Sage watched the process, yearning to shift herself. If she would never be able to shift, then why was she born with an aching need and a ghost of a memory of how it was done? She knew exactly what it would feel like—good and powerful and natural and right.
Sage slammed the door and wrenched the locks in place, then slid to the floor, holding her head and trying not to cry. A memory filled her mind, stealing her from the present anddropping her into a hole in the past, from a spring almost six years before, long before she’d ever been asked to spy on thevod.
Sage pushed the cart through the grocery store, silently musing about her life. Nana White and her aunts were driving her crazy. Sage lived at The Morning Wood Inn, along with much of her family, and all of them were in Sage’s business constantly, wanting to know where she was going, what she was doing, and telling her what to do and how to do it every day, morning till night. She’d had enough of it. She had to move out on her own, and she had to do it soon. She had a Tether, so she couldn’t leave Serenity, but she couldn’t live at the Inn anymore. She was 20 years old. It was time to go.
Her mind on her troubles, she reached into a chest freezer on the grocery floor, pawing past all the ground chuck to grab the last steak. From the other side, a masculine hand did the same. They both came up with the steak and neither let go, until they were staring in each other’s eyes.
It was Canyon Wheeling, avod!Sage’s heart leapt into her throat. She let go of the steak and snatched her arm back, like he might try to slap a handcuff on her at any second. She knew all about Canyon Wheeling. He wasn’t more likely than any othervodto arrest her for nothing, but he was more handsome than anyvodshe’d ever seen. She’d been secretly drooling over pictures of him for years, following his career from afar, but she never thought she’d see him in the flesh. Something about his eyes, and his smile, it called to her in pictures, and the male in front of her was no different. She couldn’t look away.
He raised a bag of charcoal briquettes and spoke in a deep, sexy voice. “We could go somewhere. I’ll grill it for you.” He spoke slowly, like he was carefully selecting each word. His outfit was simple—blue jeans, black work boots, and a gray long-sleeve shirt that stretched flatteringly over his pecs.
“What will you eat?” Sage asked.
He grinned, sexier than any male had any right to be, his smile making him a work of art. She blushed, not able to read minds, but she read that grin just fine—then he stepped to the side and revealed his cart, overflowing with food.
Sage burst out laughing. “You baited me.”
