Chapter Fifteen
RILEY
Rebelling at the prospect of watery coffee and stale muffins from the motel lobby, Riley took himself over to the diner for breakfast the following morning.
He’d thought last night about venturing back out to the town’s bars and seeing what more he could pick up from Lennox and Cole, but he hadn’t wanted to.
Now that he knew about Jason, he didn’t want to hear people talk about shifters like that.
More pertinently, he didn’t need to. He’d be able to gather all the information he needed directly from Jason. And as long as Jason didn’t know that was what Riley was doing, there was no reason for that funny feeling in his chest when he thought about it.
He walked over to the diner, needing some exercise, and was about to cross the street when something crawled up the back of his neck.
Not literally, as he found when he slapped his hand to his neck, but something felt off.
Glancing around, he saw Matt Urban was propped against a big, black truck farther down the street, watching him closely.
It was as if his thoughts of using Jason to get to the pack had summoned him, Riley thought wildly. He had to remind himself that, however inexplicable shifters were, they weren’t supernatural.
He forced a grin to his face and raised a hand in greeting. Urban’s nod in response wasn’t unfriendly, but it wasn’t exactly gushing, either.
Riley hesitated before crossing the street, hyper-aware of Urban’s gaze and fighting the urge to run. He didn’t know what Urban would do if he knew Riley was planning to betray his pack. He just knew that he really wouldn’t want to find out.
Though as he opened the door to the diner, hearing the now-familiar jangle of the bell, he reminded himself that Urban had bought his cover story. He’d invited Riley out to the pack’s home, for God’s sake. He had nothing to be worried about.
Still, that slight sense of unease stayed with him, not helped when Sam informed him it was Jason’s day off.
Had Jason told him, and he hadn’t remembered?
Or maybe Jason was avoiding—no, that was ridiculous.
Jason had enjoyed yesterday as much as Riley had.
He wouldn’t ghost someone, in any case. He was too honest and sweet to do that.
He messaged him. Want to do something?
Almost straight away, he got an answer. Sounds good.
Give me five, I’ve got an idea but need to check some things out first.
He sat and ordered the cheapest thing on the menu—minimizing his expenses gave Amy one less thing to shout at him over. Then he pulled up local hiking trails. He didn’t want to spend the day in Elk Ridge, where they might run into Urban or one of the other pack members at any time.
JASON
He parked at the diner, and Riley walked straight over to his car and kissed him, right there in the middle of the lot. Like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like they were a real couple.
After that, it was almost impossible for Jason to keep the grin off his face, though it wavered slightly when Riley asked which of two trails he’d recommend.
“I don’t know,” he confessed. “I’ve never hiked either of them.”
“Is there somewhere better then, somewhere I’ve missed? I was looking at places for my book that were close enough for a day hike and had different levels of difficulty to suit different fitness levels, but maybe I should be looking somewhere else.”
Jason shook his head. It wasn’t that. He only ever left the ranch to come into town.
And he was only now realizing how weird that was.
Or was it? The ranch was safe. Familiar.
He had everything he needed there. But standing here with Riley, hearing him talk about different trails, about exploring, Jason suddenly felt small.
As if he’d built walls around his world that he hadn’t even noticed.
Riley was waiting for an answer. “I don’t really go hiking,” Jason said. Then he noticed Riley’s sneakers. Looked like Riley didn’t either.
“Yeah, I didn’t exactly pack for this,” Riley said, noticing the direction of his gaze.
Then he made an odd little noise, like a cross between a gasp and a gulp.
“What I mean is, I figured I’d just send a drone up instead of actually hiking.
But that”—he leaned in—“was before I met you. Can’t think of a better way to spend the day than somewhere quiet with you. ”
Jason wanted to ask about the drone because he didn’t know anyone who flew them, and he’d always thought they’d be fun. But with Riley looking at him like he really did want to spend the day with him, he parked that thought for later.
“I’m guessing with my lack of gear and your lack of hiking, this is going to be more like a stroll than anything else,” Riley concluded.
That didn’t stop him from pulling into a gas station and loading up with essentials—bottles of water and granola bars. Jason’s eyebrows were practically in his hair as Riley grabbed the M&M trail mix.
“Seriously?” he asked, before he could stop himself. But come on, the one thing Jason knew was food, and that was just wrong.
“Want a bag?” Riley offered, a grin in his eyes. Like he was having fun.
And Jason found himself smiling back. “Not in your wildest dreams.”
* * *
They chose the trail with the shallowest inclines and wandered along in the shade of the trees, listening to a stream running its rocky course beside the path and birds’ alarmed calls as they neared.
Low, scrubby bushes lined the track, their leaves dusty after weeks without rain, while ahead, the foothills rose into the summer sky in soft, rolling curves.
Every now and then, Riley stopped to take a photo—“To remind me when I’m writing it up”—until Jason scarcely noticed anymore.
At least, not until Riley suddenly looped an arm around his neck, tugging him in close.
Jason’s breath caught as he felt Riley’s warmth, the press of his cheek against Jason’s. Then—click.
Jason wanted the photo so badly, but he had no idea how to ask for it without sounding needy. Before he’d been able to figure out what to say, Riley beat him to it.
“Want me to send it to you?”
Jason practically levitated with happiness. “Thanks,” he said, and had to clear his throat.
They wandered on, enjoying the peace. It was warm but not sweltering, the kind of dry summer heat that didn’t feel heavy. The nape of Jason’s neck was slightly damp, but the shade of the pines along the path kept him from getting too hot.
After a couple of hours, Riley suggested they stop for a break and followed a well-worn path to the edge of the stream. A magpie scolded them as they sat in the shade of a clump of aspens, white trunks reaching into the clear blue sky.
Riley dug in his backpack and pulled out the trail mix that was an affront to God, nature, and the laws of cookery.
“It’s so cool we’ve got the place to ourselves,” he said, as he opened the bag and pulled out a handful. Then he paused, and when he turned to look at Jason, his brow was slightly furrowed. “You don’t think we need worry about bears, do you?”
Good question. It was something Jason had never needed to think about—he’d just shift if he ever ran into a bear. But of course, Riley wouldn’t be able to shift, and although Jason could protect him, he hesitated to tell Riley that. It sounded patronizing, somehow.
It also would remind Riley about Jason being a shifter, and though Riley had accepted it, Jason knew that even the closest allies could be weirded out when confronted with the reality of what being a shifter meant. Which was fair enough, seeing as he found it weird that they couldn’t shift.
“I guess we should just make some noise and not smell of food,” Jason said in the end.
“So much for a relaxing amble,” Riley commented. “Though you’ve just persuaded me to eat my trail mix all in one go, so that’s a plus.” He crunched happily. “You really don’t come out here?” he asked. “It’s beautiful.”
“I guess, with work, and the ranch and the pack, I just—” Jason began to stumble through a list of excuses before remembering. This was Riley. Maybe, for once, he could be honest about what he was thinking.
“The pack feels safe for me,” he said, his voice quivering slightly with the force of his emotion. “I like that, and I guess it just never occurred to me to go further afield.”
Riley tossed back another handful of mix and offered the bag to Jason. “I mean, if you like where you’re at, why would you want to leave?” Riley said, and Jason relaxed. Riley got it. “How long have you been with Urban’s pack?”
Jason decided that part of the culinary arts was exploration of unfamiliar things, so he took a small—very small—portion of the mix while he counted back over the last few years. “Almost three years,” he said, before braving it and eating the mix. Not quite as bad as he’d expected.
“Where were you before that?”
Jason froze. No one in the pack had ever asked him that.
They all had their pasts, their own reasons why they’d ended up in Elk Ridge, and they all avoided the subject.
The only one who’d ever broached it was Matt, when he’d offered Jason the chance to stay and become part of the pack, and that was fair enough—Matt needed to know who he was taking in.
As Jason’s mind ran around in panicky circles, Riley carefully folded up the empty bag and stashed it at the bottom of his backpack. Then he glanced sideways, apparently realizing that maybe there was a reason Jason hadn’t answered him.
“Didn’t mean to be intrusive,” he said. “Forget it.”
He made as if to stand, and Jason touched his arm, halting him.
He—he had to learn to be brave. He’d never managed it physically, not until that night Cale’s pack had attacked them when, buoyed by the presence of his pack around him, he’d stood his ground.
It had helped that he wasn’t fighting for himself.
But maybe it was time to be brave in other ways.
Because if he wasn’t honest with Riley, what they had was built on nothing.
And Riley had been interested enough to ask—that was a new experience for Jason.
“I was kicked out of my old pack when my mom died,” he confessed, his voice strained. “They thought I wasn’t—I’m not… I’m too timid to be a proper wolf.”
He bit his lip, but the words were out now, hanging between them. “I’ve never liked fighting, not even play-fighting in wolf form. It just—I don’t like it.”
And he didn’t even know why. He was scared, yeah, but more than that, he just didn’t see the point in trying to hurt someone and have them hurt you, when it wasn’t for real. And when it was for real… that was when it became terrifying.
“My mom was the only one who really stood up for me. After she died…” He gave a helpless shrug. “That was it. There wasn’t anyone left who thought I was worth anything.”
He shot a careful sideways glance at Riley, both looking for and dreading his reaction. And that, right there, was courage, he told himself. He wasn’t hiding any longer.
“Well, shit,” Riley said. He sounded mad. “Who the fuck made them the shifter police? You’re just fine the way you are.” Taking Jason’s hand in his, he pressed a kiss into the palm like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Anyone who can’t see that needs their fucking head examined.”
Jason stared at Riley, which was probably unflattering because he was fairly certain his jaw was hanging down in stupefaction, but Riley thought he was fine the way he was? Riley, Mr. Perfect, thought that about him?
There was something weird happening inside Jason, like a leaf slowly unfurling in the warmth of spring sunshine. At least, that was the best explanation he could come up with for the weird fluttery feeling of rightness that sat deep inside him. And Riley was that sunshine. Riley truly was perfect.
The stream burbled beside them, a confident chickadee hopped around their feet, and Jason had never been this happy.