“Yep,” I say, ignoring the feeling of Red staring at my back.
“Cool.” She turns her gaze to Red and adds, “Be right with you.”
Red says nothing, just continues to stay eerily silent. As the register beeps, I hear footsteps move up behind Red, but I don’tbother to look to see who it is. Like I said, I’m just here to get some wine and not think about Arbor.
I tap my card on the machine, and it beeps that it’s completed the transaction.
And then I’m grabbing my bag and stepping toward the exit.
As I go, I hear a faint voice—a threat, a promise. “You’re paying for this.”
I crane my neck slightly to look back, but there’s only Red checking out, and whoever the next customer is, that’s obscured behind him.
Maybe I really am losing my mind. Maybe I need to cut back on the caffeine and get some more sleep.
Whatever it is, it needs to stop.
Friday rolls around quicker than I expect, and the weird sightings of Red and the shadows in the forest cease to exist. I’m back to normal once again. My meetings with Arbor continue to be short and succinct every morning. And every afternoon, after the crew has left, I linger behind, finishing up projects until he’s ready to leave. He’s a hard worker, I’ll give him that, and he’s cleaned up Declan’s mess in a few short days. We already have all the missing permits and contractors lined up to do the jobs my men aren’t licensed to do.
I can tell everyone is impressed with him. Even if some get annoyed with how strict he is about following the rules, and a few of them heckle him just because they can. But I figure I’d rather have someone who goes by the book than someone who tosses it out the window, especially in this industry, where things could get shut down if it’s discovered that corners were cut.
I grab a clean pair of clothes from the truck for the family dinner I’m going to after work and move into the small trailer. I’m gonna have to change clothes here and head out as soon as Arbor’s finished with his paperwork.
When I make my way toward the restroom, I feel his eyes on me, but I don’t turn around to look at him.
“When you’re done, I need to speak with you,” he says to my back.
“Got it. Be right out.”
I close the door, wash my face and hands, and then change into a flannel shirt and a clean pair of jeans. Deciding not to make him wait for me to button my shirt up, I stride out of the bathroom as my fingers try to find the button at the bottom.
Arbor’s eyes meet mine and then slide down my chest, his cheeks reddening. He shifts in his seat, his lips rolling between his teeth.
“Wh—?”
“Have to look nice,” I interrupt, swearing when I realize the shirt is inside out, and that’s why I can’t find the button.
“Damn thing,” I murmur as I pull it off my shoulders, and that’s when I hear a gasp.
My eyes flick to Arbor, and I see that his previously pink cheeks are pale. His eyes are wide, and I catch that look of stunned silence.
Oh shit. The keloid scar on my shoulder. It’s big and ugly, and completely obvious. I got it from being a stupid teen and playing with sharp metal. It never healed correctly because I didn’t tell my parents about it right away, and despite having some of the lingering shifter genes, not getting it properly taken care of made it permanent.
He must recognize it from the Heat Hunt. Fuck. He must recognizeme.
“You. Oh my gods.You,” he whispers, his fingers trembling.
I school my features. “Yeah.” It’s all I can say.
His fingers are curled against the desk, his mouth opening and closing as he tries to come to terms with this new revelation—that the man directly under him was literally under him at some point. And over him. Inside of him.
My cock perks up at the thought.
“Don’t need to make it a big deal,” I murmur as I pull the flannel back on and work on buttoning it.
But he hasn’t moved, his chest heaving, his breathing noisy. He’s panicking.
“I said nothing before, won’t say anything about it now.”
