Chapter 10 Nora
Nora
Wolf insisted on walking me home again.
He didn’t say it like a request.
Or a suggestion.
Or even a command.
He just said, “Let’s go,” in that deep,
steady voice that somehow carried more reassurance than a whole police escort.
The Magnolia Ladies offered me their “weapons” one last time.
Mabel waved her lighter. “If that creep shows up again, singe his eyebrows.”
Agnes raised the rolling pin. “Or break his kneecaps.”
June held up the colander. “Or dent his skull.”
“I appreciate the… enthusiasm,” I said, trying not to laugh. “But I’m good.”
Trigger whispered, “Take the colander. For morale.”
Wolf pinched the bridge of his nose. “No one is taking the colander.”
He opened the library door for me like a gentleman from another century, and we stepped out onto Main Street together.
Even with the sun out, the town felt… different.
Quieter.
Watching.
Wolf walked beside me, gaze scanning rooftops, alleys, parked cars—every shadow like he was cataloguing threats only he could see.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Trying to be.”
He nodded once. Not dismissing. Not patronizing. Just… understanding.
We passed Marlow’s Grocery. Mrs. Kincaid was sweeping the sidewalk, but she wasn’t even pretending to sweep — she was flat-out staring at us.
At him.
At us together.
She gave me a wink so aggressive I nearly tripped.
“Oh my God,” I muttered.
Wolf glanced over. “What?”
“Everyone thinks you’re my… boyfriend or something.”
His brow lowered, thoughtful. “Is that a problem?”
My heart tripped. “No. I mean—yes. I mean—”
I nearly walked into a parked truck.
Wolf caught my elbow gently, steadying me. His hand stayed there a little too long.
Or maybe not long enough.
“Nora.” His voice dropped, softer than I’d ever heard it. “You don’t ever have to explain yourself to me.”
I swallowed. Hard. “Okay.”
When we reached my lawn, he stopped short.
Not dramatically. Not obviously.
Just a subtle shift—his body going still, his focus narrowing like a hunting dog catching a scent.
“What?” I whispered.
He stepped forward, crouching near the walkway.
Boot prints.
Fresh ones.
Beside them… cigarette ash.
My stomach plummeted.
“Wolf?”
He stood slowly. “Someone was here. Last night or early this morning.”
Cold curled around my spine. “Why my house?”
He didn’t answer right away.
He turned, scanning the tree line.
The fence.
The alley behind the neighbor’s shed.
Finally, he looked at me. Eyes sharp. Controlled.
“Because you saw something,” he said. “And whoever it is knows you did.”
My breath trembled. “But I didn’t—”
“You think you didn’t,” he corrected gently. “But something about that night you can’t remember stuck with you. He followed you for a reason.”
My pulse thrummed painfully in my throat.
The world suddenly felt too big. Too exposed.
Wolf stepped closer, lowering his voice like he was talking someone back from a ledge.
“You’re safe,” he said. “I promise.”
I didn’t know whether to believe the words…
…but I believed him.
“Come inside,” I said before I could think about it.
Wolf blinked. “Inside?”
“You should… look around. If there were footprints outside, maybe…”
He studied me, trying to gauge if I was saying it because I wanted safety—
or because I wanted him.
Truth was… both. I didn’t have casual sex with men; I’ve only been with two, but I never felt the powerful wanting ever before. Wolf brought out the wanting in me.
He nodded once. “Okay.”
Inside my little house, the air felt charged. Too quiet. Too intimate.
Wolf checked the windows. The back door. The hall. The bathroom.
When he came back into the living room, he stopped in front of me.
Close. Too close.
“There’s no sign of forced entry,” he said. “But I don’t like that he’s been anywhere near you.”
I wrapped my arms around myself. “I feel stupid for being scared.”
Wolf’s jaw clenched. “Don’t. Fear just means you understand the stakes.”
He hesitated. Then, softer: “And you’re not stupid. You’re brave.”
Brave.
No one had ever called me that.
I looked up at him… and suddenly the air between us shifted.
Warm.
Pulling.
His hand lifted like he wasn’t sure if he should touch me—fingers hovering near my cheekbone.
“Nora…” he murmured.
My breath caught.
His lashes dipped like he might—
maybe—
possibly—
kiss me.
A vibration broke the moment.
Trigger’s voice exploded outside.
“WOLF! SAINT SAW SOMETHING ON THE CAMERA!”
Wolf closed his eyes like he was contemplating murder.
I nearly laughed. Nearly cried.
He exhaled. “I have to go.”
“I know.”
His gaze flicked to my lips.
Mine flicked to his.
For one suspended heartbeat, neither of us moved.
Then he stepped back.
But only because he had to.
“I’ll be back later,” he said quietly. “Lock the doors. And answer when I knock.”
“I will.”
He hesitated one more moment—like walking away from me physically hurt—then strode out the door.
Trigger’s voice echoed from the yard, excited and panicked all at once.
And I stood there alone in my living room…
trying to catch the breath Wolf Maddox had stolen.