Chapter 4
Ava
“I’m sorry, we’re fully booked, hun.” The motel clerk regards me over the glasses perched on the end of her nose.
“No way?” I mutter.
“The storm’s marooned a bunch of people here for the night, and we’re bursting at the seams.”
“Damnit. Is there anywhere else to stay around here?”
She shakes her head wearily. “No, I’m sorry, we’re the only place in thirty miles.”
Crap. Crap. Crap. What am I going to do now? I check the time on my phone. It’s only eleven p.m.. It’s going to be a long night. And the blizzard is still howling. If anything, it’s getting worse.
I stand by the motel door, staring out at the distant yellow lights of the diner.
“You can sleep in my truck,” Stinger offers.
“In your truck?” I echo.
“Yup. You can stay there by yourself.”
“W-where will you sleep?” I stammer.
“I can sleep anywhere, doesn’t matter to me.”
I turn to look at him. “What do you mean?”
His nostrils flare as he inhales. “You know about Perdue town, right?”
Know about it. Well, I know it’s a town where people go to hide from the world.
That there are a ton of shapeshifters there.
I glance at him again, and the reality hits me so hard I almost fall down on my ass.
He’s a shifter. Of course, he is. That massive build; that fierce, direct way about him.
Those ice-blue eyes that bore right through me.
“You’re a wolf,” I say.
He gives a deep nod. “Yup.”
“I’ve never met a shifter before.”
A smile tugs at his lips, then his eyes blaze so bright I can’t look at him. “I’ll be your first.”
I stop breathing. Shivers pour through me. Is he saying what I think he’s saying?
Because the truth is, I have been wondering what it would be like to have sex with him. Honestly, I’ve been thinking about it ever since I came back from the bathroom and I saw the hunger in his gaze.
No. That would be messed up.
Since I was a teenager, I’ve been dreaming of my first time—on white sheets, rose petals sprinkled around. Proclamations of love from the man I’m going to marry.
Not some wolf man at a truck stop. However sexy he might be.
“I’m good. I’ll just stay up in the diner, wait for the morning.”
Stinger lifts his massive shoulders in a shrug. “I think you’re crazy, but okay.”
“I’ll be fine. Thank you so much for rescuing me tonight,” I say.
But as I start to say goodbye, emptiness blasts through me. This is it. I’m never going to see him again.
“I’m coming with you.”
“To the diner? No, it’s not necessary. It’s real busy there—”
“No!” he almost shouts. “I’m not leaving you there by yourself.”
I give a squeak of surprise.
“It’s not safe,” he says in a softer tone. “You want to spend the night there, I’m staying with you.”
“B-but… don’t you need to go drive your truck or something?”
Those glowing eyes rake me up and down. “Something more important came up,” he growls, and each word prickles on my skin like fire and ice combined.
He makes me feel special. My whole life, I’ve always felt surplus to requirements. But with Stinger, I feel like I’m the center of his attention. It’s an intense, light-headed kind of feeling.
“Let’s go. You’re getting cold out here.”
He’s right. I’m shivering so hard my teeth are clattering together.
He took his jacket off on the way to the motel and held it over my head, and he insists on doing the same on the way back.
I’m doing my best to stay close, but not too close to him, but boy, is he radiating heat.
I can feel it rolling off him in waves. I wish I was in his arms, wrapped up in his big body—
I shake my head. Crazy thoughts. It’s not going to happen—however much I might want it to.
When Stinger pulls open the diner door, a wall of steam hits us. It’s busier than before, and people seem to be settling in for the night, figuring—like me—that this is their only option.
Our old booth is occupied by two guys, and there are no vacant seats, at all. Stinger growls in dismay. Then he stalks around, before coming to a stop in front of a booth occupied by just one person—a skinny teenager in a beanie.
I watch as he leans over and says something to him. A moment later, the teenager shoots a frightened glance at me, leaps up, and the seat is ours.
“What did you say to him?” I ask as I slide into the booth.
Stinger flashes his teeth, and for a moment, I think I glimpse his animal. Rising to the surface. Its cool, ferocious power. I shudder and my nipples burn, turning to aching peaks.
“I told him I’d consider it a personal favor if he gave up his seat for you.”
“Then why did he look so scared?”
He scratches at his stubble. “Dunno.”
“Thank you,” I say quietly. Whatever he said, I’m grateful to have a seat. It’s at the front of the diner right by the window, offering a premium view of the blizzard. I think of my poor little car, which must be buried in snow by now.
Stinger gives me a long, appraising look. I fidget under his scrutiny. I’m sure my nose is bright red and I look like hell.
“I’m getting you a hot chocolate,” he says.
I open my mouth and close it again, because that sounds like heaven.
When he doesn’t see a server right away, he gets up and marches to the service area.
In a couple of minutes, he’s back, with a giant mug of hot chocolate, and two glasses of some dark liquid. His hands are so big he can hold both glasses in one hand.
“Rum,” he says, dumping them on the table. “It’ll warm you up, too.”
I pick one up and sniff it dubiously. It’s sweet and rich. Think I could get high just from the fumes. Instead, I sip the hot chocolate. It’s delicious, and I tell him so.
“Good,” he says, and a tenderness sweeps across his rugged features. “Just what you need.”
He sips his rum, then I sip mine, and a trail of fire runs down my throat.
“Whoa,” I mutter.
“Told you,” he says, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. Wish it wasn’t such a sexy smile.
He rolls the glass between his callused fingertips. “What job are you gonna be doing in Perdue?”
“I’m going to be a bookseller,” I tell him.
“A bookseller?” Interest lights in his eyes.
I don’t know if it’s the rum, or if I’m just dazed from… everything, but before I know it, I’m telling him what a giant bookworm I am, and all about my dreams of working in a bookshop, and he’s listening like he’s fascinated.
The diner is getting louder by the minute. There’s a bunch of loud guys at the bar who are starting to whoop and yell out to the waitress. I lean closer to Stinger so he can hear me better, but I don’t realize how close I’m getting until my knee brushes up against his.
Damn. Even through two layers of fabric, the contact between us is electric.
I jerk away, cheeks warming. Then I dart a glance at him to see if he’s noticed.
He’s watching me again, and the admiration in his eyes startles me. I’m not used to being looked at like this.
“You’re real smart,” he says.
I wrinkle my nose. “I don’t know about that.”
“You are, Ava. Don’t ever question that.”
I startle at the seriousness of his tone, and swallow hard. I’ve never had someone on my side before. And here’s this rough, intimidating guy, saying the kindest things to me. I run the tip of my tongue across my lips. “What gives you that idea?”
“Your words, your eyes. The way you’re real watchful.”
He noticed that? It’s true. Coming from the family I was raised in, you learn to pay attention to what’s going on around you.
“But you’ve got to be extra careful in a place like Perdue—” A loud whoop drowns out the end of his sentence.
“Damnit,” he mutters, clenching his fist. “This is no place for you.”
He looks out at the blizzard, then over to the bar and back again. “I’m going to go get my truck,” he says at last.
I frown. “Where is it?”
“On the other side of the highway.”
Of course. He was heading in the other direction when he saw me.
He takes out a phone from his back pocket and fiddles with a maps app. “Need to turn around at the next exit. I’ll be gone a half hour. At least.” He doesn’t look happy at the idea.
I see his big chest rise and fall, then he lays his hand right on top of mine.
“I want you to stay right here,” he says. “Don’t let anyone sit here. If anyone asks, you’re with me. Anyone gives you trouble, you yell for the server, okay?”
I nod.
“You need the bathroom before I go?”
I shake my head. Didn’t know guys thought about stuff like that.
“Okay, don’t move a muscle till I’m back.”
He heaves his massive bulk to his feet, and heads toward the exit.
My head spins as I watch him go. People scatter as he charges through the throng. I’m not surprised. But he’s different with me—he’s tender. Careful.
He cares for me.
The thought makes me feel weak and breathless.
And I just hope he’s coming back.
Hope he doesn’t get back to his truck and decide it’s not worth the effort after all.