“My face is up here, big guy.”
Every drop of blood in my body rerouted to my ears. I turned toward the sink and reached for the mugs.
“Sorry. What were you asking, again?”
Behind me, I heard her grin. I didn’t need to see it. I could hear it in the shift of her posture, the soft exhale that preceded the words.
“You blush a lot when flustered. Do you know that?”
I turned the faucet on. The water was louder than necessary. “I’ll wash the dishes.”
Her laugh filled the kitchen and it went through me in a wave. Warm, bright, entirely too pleased with herself. This woman, who wore dark clothes and dark hair and hid behind brown contacts, was the brightest thing in any room she walked into and didn’t have a clue.
“I said, can you take me to the site of my bookshop?”
I shut the water off and turned to look at her. She’d pulled herself up on the counter, legs dangling, bare feet swinging.
“You want to go?”
“I just want to check. Maybe there’s more to save besides the journal.” She shrugged, but the casualness was practiced. This mattered to her.
“I also want to breathe fresh air and think. Which means I need someone quiet.” The corner of her mouth lifted. “Can’t ask Percy, he has too much energy. And Lucian will definitely fight me about going out, given that Hudson is still out there.”
She was right about Lucian. He’d lock down the cabin and station himself at the door before he let her walk into town with only one guard. Percy would agree but wouldn’t stop talking long enough to let her think.
But she couldn’t go alone. That much was certain.
The Hudson problem nagged at me, a splinter I couldn’t reach.
Well, at least she actually asked for company instead of insisting to go alone.
“So... will you go with me?” Mira tilted her head.
“Yes.” I set the mug in the drying rack. “Go get dressed and we’ll leave.”
Her face split into a grin so immediate and unguarded that my chest cracked open. She hopped off the counter and was halfway up the stairs before I could blink.
I stood in the empty kitchen and pressed my palm flat against the counter to breathe.
This woman was going to kill me. Not with knives or silver or any of the things that could actually end a lycan. But with radiant smiles, captivating laughter, and her sweet voice.
I need to get myself together.
Mira came back down ten minutes later. Disguise in place. Brown contacts, dark hair loose around her shoulders, a jacket zipped to her chin. She looked smaller when she hid. Compressed, contained, the version of herself she’d built to survive.
I hated it.
The drive into town took twelve minutes. She sat in the passenger seat with her knees drawn up, feet on the dash, watching the trees blur past the window. I didn’t tell her to put her feet down. I liked the way she made herself comfortable, claiming space in my car as if it were hers.
I pulled to a stop near the old storefront block where her shop used to stand. Mira reached for her seatbelt and clicked the release.
Nothing happened.
She clicked again but the buckle jammed.
“Hang on.” I leaned across the center console.
My hand found the clasp and my fingers worked the mechanism, but the angle put my face inches from hers. Her scent flooded my senses and my body locked on to her.
