Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
ROSE
Inibble on the back of my ballpoint pen as I sweep over the list of things I need to do today for the Wise Fox Lounge’s grand opening.
I know I should be working on this month’s events for the city’s event hall, but the lounge is constantly on my mind, and I still have an hour before I have to show up at work.
“Do you need another refill, miss?” I look up at the young barista, her golden curls pulled back in a bun, as she gestures to my empty cup.
“Oh, uh, yes please.” My stomach growls audibly. “Another caramel macchiato and a BLT, lightly toasted, please.”
“Would you like anything else?” She grabs my cup and smiles patiently.
“No, thank you.”
A glance at my watch shows it’s already half past ten. I’ve wasted nearly two hours this morning and haven’t managed to do anything but scroll through social media, text Netti, and check in on my cat cam. Ginger had been sound asleep in the tree I ordered last week, his tail swishing as he dreamed.
The bell above the café door chimes. I shake my head and drag a finger down my to-do list. There’s still time before the lounge’s opening, but I like to be prepared with backup plans in case something goes wrong.
Not that it will. The bakery I chose for the macarons is a family-owned business, always praised for its flavor and promptness.
I’ve already explored catalog options, consulted a local florist, and just need to review the decoration details one last time with Angelique before finalizing the order.
Fortunately, the lounge is fully furnished, eliminating the need to rent chairs and tables—one less thing to worry about.
My chest constricts, a chill running down my spine. I swivel in my seat, scanning the café. Only the barista and an elderly patron are here.
It’s probably nothing. Just stress. And lack of decent sleep.
It couldn’t be him.
My ex, stalking me.
I rub the back of my neck and stare out the window. Cars roll by; only a handful of pedestrians are out—two mothers pushing strollers, an elderly couple holding hands, a man turning the corner out of sight.
I push to my feet, chair scraping along the floor. My heart beats wildly as I stare at the narrow street between the bakery and the barbershop through the storefront window.
“Miss, are you alright?” the barista asks.
I turn. Both she and the elderly man are watching me.
“Yes, I’m fine. Sorry, I thought I saw something but it—never mind.” I smile and sit back down, letting the warm sun streaming through the glass calm my nerves as I breathe deep.
It can’t have been Jett. He has better things to do than stalk me. He has a job. Or at least, he did before we broke up. He never stayed anywhere long, always bailing when responsibility got too heavy.
My hand clenches, crumpling the paper to-do list. I smooth it flat again, eyes catching on the bakery line. I’ll finish my coffee and brunch, then give them a call.
“Here you go, miss,” the barista says, and I glance at her nametag. Alice. That’s a nice name. She’s been here since before I moved to town. If this is going to be my regular spot, it wouldn’t hurt to be on a first-name basis.
“Thank you… Alice. My name is Rosemary, but you can call me Rose.” I smile as I take the cup.
“Enjoy your food, Rose,” she replies, turning away just as the bell above the café door chimes again.
This is the busiest I’ve ever seen it after the morning rush. Usually, I’m the only one here until—
“Rose?”
A deep, familiar voice rolls through me, and my magic sings in response, a euphoric rush lighting every nerve. I turn, brows furrowed.
“Carter? What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing. Boy, are you a sight for sore eyes.” He beams, a dimple flashing in his cheek. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”
His eyes stray to the list on the table, the sticky notes scattered around it, my neat row of pens and highlighters.
“No, not at all, please.” I gesture to the chair across from me, my gaze locked on him. He slips off his leather biker jacket, folding it neatly over the back of the chair before sitting. Fitted jeans hug his thighs, and his dark grey shirt does little to hide the physique beneath.
“Hello.” The barista is at our table again, batting her lashes at Carter. “Can I get you anything to drink?”
“Just a flat black,” he says matter-of-factly.
My stomach twists in a jealous knot. I force myself to look back down at my list, but it only reminds me of the note I threw into the firepit last night.
I have absolutely no reason to be jealous of Carter Abernathy.
Sure, he’s part of the Abernathy werewolf clan—brother to a billionaire CEO who just happens to be engaged to my best friend.
And yes, we had a weekend fling over a year ago.
But that was it. I had one more semester of college left, and neither of us wanted a long-distance relationship or to give up our lives, so we left it at that.
No sad story. No messy breakup. Just a weekend of fun, a little steam blown off.
Or at least, that’s what I told myself. Over and over until I believed it.
Did I compare every man I met afterward to him?
Possibly. Did I still wake up with vivid dreams of that weekend?
Absolutely. But I never thought I’d see him again—except maybe at an event Netti invited me to, if I could get the time off.
“Rose?”
Carter places his hand over mine, and I jump, pulling back.
“I’m so sorry,” I blurt, glancing up. Alice is already behind the counter, busy making coffee.
“You made a face and zoned out. Have you been sleeping?” His dark brows knit together over perfectly tan skin.
“Yes. Well, no. But that’s beside the point.” I grab my cup and take a long swig. The liquid scalds my tongue. He folds his arms across his chest, biceps bulging, a hint of ink peeking out from his sleeve.
“What’s that?” I ask, gesturing toward his arm. I don’t remember him having ink when we met.
“This?” He pushes the sleeve higher, revealing pine trees and a crescent moon. Heat pools low in my belly, memories flooding back—crisp air, a hotel in the woods, his mouth on mine.
“Just some art.” Carter’s nostrils flare, pupils dilating for half a second before he clears his throat, readjusts in his chair, and gestures to the table. “What’s this?”
“This? Just work.” I fiddle with my pens, lining them up.
“Is that why you’re in town? Another gig?” He lifts a brow.
“Well, this particular job is, but I’ve also taken a year contract with the—actually, it doesn’t matter.
Why are you here? Don’t you have ‘fancy pack business’?
” I make air quotes. I know his role is important, but I’ve never dug into the details.
Anytime Netti brought him up, I skirted around the subject.
Alice reappears, lashes fluttering again as she hands Carter his drink.
“I’m here on pack business.” He takes the steaming cup and pulls out a fifty. “I’ll cover her tab. Keep the change.”
I resist rolling my eyes at these stupidly rich werewolves and their antics.
“I have a big-girl job. I can pay for my own big-girl coffee,” I protest.
“Why don’t you calm down, kitten, and let someone take care of you for once.”
“Why don’t you tell me why you’re in town.” I bite my lip, grumbling. “And I’m not your kitten.”
Why does his mere presence leave me hot, cold, and twisted up inside?
“Have it your way… kitten.” Carter smirks, leaning forward, his knees brushing mine. “I’m here because I’m hunting down a wild wee beastie.”
I release the breath I didn’t know I was holding and roll my eyes.
“Carter, be serious.” For once. His jovial, easygoing nature is impossible for me to read, and he’s the only person I’ve ever met immune to my magic. Just being near him tangles me in feelings I don’t have time for.
“I am serious. One of the pups—well, she’s a teen, really—decided to run away earlier this week.” His voice turns grave as he sips his coffee.
“What do you mean? Is she okay? Do you know why?” The hair on my arm rises.
“Something about chasing her dreams, getting out from under pack rules, living her own life. Typical teenager stuff. You’d know.” He shrugs, but his eyes stay locked on me.
“Was that a jab at my age and life choices?” I bristle. “I’m serious, Carter. A missing teen isn’t a joke.”
“I never said it was.” His tone is solemn. “If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t be here. But since you brought up age and life choices… well, you’re what—” He smirks, that damned dimple flashing, ticking down fingers. “Thirty-two years younger than me?”
“Just because I’m younger doesn’t mean I don’t know what I’m doing. And didn’t your brother say you wolf boys live longer but take longer to mature?”
“Touché, kitten.”
“I told you to stop calling me that.”
“Then look me in the eyes when you say it.” His voice hardens with steel, and my face heats. I force myself to meet his gaze.
“How come you never returned my calls or texts that week?” he asks, his hand closing over mine.
“It was just one weekend. What does it matter?” I whisper, staring at his large hand dwarfing my petite one. “That was a long time ago, and we’ve both moved on.”
Liar. Liar. Liar. If I had truly moved on, why do I feel this way when he looks at me?
“I suppose we have.” He drops my hand and leans back. The loss of his warmth is a cold bucket of water to my senses. “I’m here looking for the missing girl. Have you heard anything?”
“I have not.” I run my finger around the rim of my cup before meeting his blue stare. “What makes you think she’s here?”
“She texted one of her friends this picture yesterday.” He pulls his phone from his pocket and angles the screen toward me. The girl has dark, wavy brown hair, an olive complexion, and wide brown eyes. Beyond her stretch nondescript shops and storefronts.
“How do you know that’s here? That could be any small town.”
“Except it’s not.” He zooms in and points to a woman carrying a bag. “See this? That shop’s only location is here.”
I try to focus on what Carter’s pointing out, but all I can see is a figure in the background, leaning against a building. Jett.
Why would he be in this girl’s selfie?
I drain the last of my coffee, staring at my now-cold sandwich. Appetite gone, I think of the teen—lost and alone.
“Aside from her being a runaway, what makes you so worried? You don’t think there’s foul play, do you?” I meet his cerulean-blue gaze, but he shakes his head.
“No, I don’t suspect that. The problem is, teenage shifters often struggle with their emotions, and our magic is tied to them. So is our ability to shift. A rogue teen shifter without her pack can get into a lot of magical trouble.”
The knot in my stomach eases, and I nod. Maybe it isn’t Jett after all—maybe I’m just wound up and paranoid. The man’s face is obscured, and anyone could be wearing jeans, a band shirt, and a baseball cap.
“Well, with your superior wolf-shifter senses, you’ll find her in no time,” I say, packing my things. Another hour gone, and if I’m going to get this opening done on time, I need a clear head.
“That’s the problem.” His eyes lock onto mine. “There are more than just shifters in this town. I’ve sensed witches, fae, even humans. Unless I’m practically breathing down her neck, I can’t track her by scent alone.”
“So… you need my help?” I arch a brow.
“I didn’t ask for your help.” His lips twitch into that almost-smile I’ve dreamed about too many nights.
“No, but you dropped this mission in my lap like a hot coal. You’re in unfamiliar territory, chasing down a missing pack member. I’ve been here long enough to know the people and places. The question was implied.” I cross my arms, ignoring the quickening of my pulse just from being this close.
“Netti always says you like making yourself indispensable.” He leans back, smirk widening, the picture of infuriating confidence. “Go on. Admit it. You like helping people.”
“We barely know each other. What could you possibly know about what I like and don’t?” I roll my eyes, though heat curls low in my belly at the challenge in his voice.
“I know enough.” His grin softens slightly, making my heart ache. He spreads his arms wide. “I know you’re a fighter, that you don’t give up easily, and you like a challenge.”
“I don’t see how I can help. I don’t know the first thing about shifter pups.” I stand, slinging my purse and laptop bag over my shoulder. His words hit me harder than I expected. Was I that easy to read? What had Netti told him? “Thank you for covering my brunch. You really didn’t have to.”
I turn to go, but his hand wraps gently around my wrist. I crane my neck up to meet his gaze. Heat radiates off him, cedarwood, vanilla, and bourbon wrapping around me.
“Rose.” His voice is low, almost a whisper. His eyes drop to my lips before returning to mine. Then he lets go, stepping back, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. I just… could really use your help.”
It takes every ounce of self-control not to close the space between us. Even with Jett gone, I’m not ready to throw myself back into dating. Especially not with Carter Abernathy—the man who stirs a storm in me I can’t name.
“I’ll help you.” Goddess help me, I hope I don’t regret this. I swore I’d start saying no more often, but some reckless part of me wants more time with him—even if it means chasing down a lost pup.
“You will?” His eyes light up like a puppy being offered a bone. I suppress a laugh and hold up a hand.
“I’ll keep an eye out, ask my contacts at the clubs and paranormal hangouts if they’ve seen her. It’s the least I can do. But I have work too.”
“Thank you.” He pulls me into a brief hug before stepping back. “Text me if you hear anything. My number hasn’t changed. I’m staying at Lana Hotel.”
He grabs his jacket and strides out the door to a sleek blue motorcycle parked at the curb. I watch as he dons his helmet, swings onto the saddle, revs the engine, and disappears down the street.