Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
R afe found himself nursing a cup of bad coffee at Gert’s diner after he dropped Ruby off at the bar. They’d driven the whole way in silence like he really was nothing more than her Uber driver.
He was an asshole.
But Callie was hanging out with Lena tonight, and Rafe didn’t want to be far from either Bellerose sister if they needed him. So, he was stuck sitting here in this sticky vinyl booth, replaying their fight over and over again.
Was it even a fight?
The more he thought about it, it was just him pushing Ruby away again. He didn’t even know why he was doing it anymore.
He just knew he wasn’t good enough for her. Not by a long shot.
“Hey, big guy,” Dolores said, sliding in across from him.
“Hey, Dolores,” he sighed, looking up as his only friend in town joined him. “Laundry done early tonight?”
“Waiting on the dryer, but I saw you through the window and you looked like you could use some company.”
Christ, he must look pitiful if Dolores abandoned her unmentionables for him.
“Thanks.”
Gert came to fill Dolores’s mug.
“How’s Lena?” she asked as she poured, directing her question to Rafe. He’d been avoiding Gert since she caught him at Ruby’s house and nearly glared him to death. He didn’t get the impression that Gert liked him all that much.
“Lena’s fine,” he grumbled. “Why do you ask?”
“I heard she… I heard something odd happened at the bar the other night.”
So, people had noticed. Of course they had. One minute Lena was talking and eating, and the next she was slumped over in the booth. As much as Rafe had tried to shield her from prying eyes, there wasn’t much that got past people in this town.
“Something odd?” Dolores perked up. “You didn’t tell me about something odd, Rafe,” she scolded, like he should have kept her up to date on all things odd, strange, or noteworthy in his life. If that were the case, he’d have a lot to report.
“She’s fine ,” he insisted.
“That family’s always been?… special,” Gert went on, hand on her hip, apparently not worried about serving any of the other tables.
Rafe looked around. Only two other tables had customers.
One was filled with a group of teenagers too young to hang out at the bar, and the other was a couple clearly from out of town, dressed head to toe in brand new hiking gear.
“Millie used to say the strangest things, but I’ll tell you what, she was right about ninety nine percent of the time.”
Dolores nodded. “Oh yes, I remember that. She knew when Mabel was going to give birth. Three weeks early, no less.”
“And predicted that storm up the coast. No one saw that coming.”
Maybe if Rafe hadn’t witnessed Lena’s episode firsthand, he could brush off these stories as coincidences, as simply paying attention and noticing things about the world that everyone else was moving too fast to notice.
But if her aunt could predict the future, then what the hell was Lena predicting?
“She told me once that her grandson was mayor of some little town south of here. Harbor something or other,” Dolores said, sipping her coffee. “Says he saved the town with some of his predictions.”
“Might be true.” Gert said.
“She knew when those girls were coming to her,” Dolores said, her voice a whisper now like it was all too strange and sad to say out loud. “She sensed something terrible was about to happen.”
Gert nodded. “She told me once she hoped the girls wouldn’t turn out like her, but I know she worried about them,” she said, turning to Rafe. “Are you taking good care of our girls?”
He swallowed his coffee too fast, scalding his throat.
“I’m trying.”
“Hm.” Gert narrowed her eyes at him, assessing. They didn’t like that he was new to town, he knew that. He had no idea how they’d feel if they knew the rest.
But this town was nutty enough that it might be their favorite thing about him.
“I heard my niece was in town today,” Gert said, giving Rafe a pointed look.
“Your niece?”
“Phoebe.”
Fee was Gert’s niece? Did that mean Gert was?…
like Fee? Rafe had heard that nymphs used ‘niece’ and ‘aunt’ to stay connected with their vast network of women.
Whether or not that meant they were blood related didn’t really matter.
What mattered was Gert might know a lot more than your average small-town diner owner.
Did she know about him?
“I hear a lot of things.”
Dolores’s gaze flicked between the two of them.
“I hear things too,” she said. “I heard Tom and Gil got into it over Bingo the other night. Fist fight outside and everything.”
Gert scoffed. “Those two old coots. I’m sure it wasn’t much of a fight.”
Dolores laughed so loud the tourists from the other table looked over in alarm. Dolores waved them off. “Go back to your flatlander chatter,” she said. “Don’t mind us.”
Dolores winked at him, but he was still trying to wrap his head around whether or not Gert was a nymph like Fee and if she knew what he was. The way she was still semi-glaring at him indicated both were true.
“Anyway,” Gert said, giving him a firm pat on the shoulder. Surprisingly firm for such a small woman. “You keep those girls safe, you hear me? Something’s been off around here lately, and I don’t think it’s just you hulking around town.”
Dolores liked that. She hooted loudly and smacked the table. “He does hulk, doesn’t he. He’s just a puppy dog though,” she said and Gert snorted.
“I guess you could call him that.”
“Hey, hold on?—”
He wanted to talk to Gert more about what she meant by things feeling off. Did she know Wyatt had been stalking Ruby? Did she know why?
But she was busy serving another table, shouting orders to the cook before he could ask, and Dolores had moved on to talking about the year she’d lived in New York City and tried out for the Rockettes. Unsuccessfully, she claimed, because of their unfair height requirements.
Rafe was given no choice but to listen and commiserate about the unfairness of it all.
By the time Dolores had to go check on her laundry, Rafe only had about an hour before he had to pick Ruby up from work.
He’d asked Dolores once why she did her laundry so late.
Ever since her third husband died, she didn’t sleep very well was what she told him.
Might as well be productive, she’d said with a sad little laugh.
That was when he’d decided to do his laundry more often.
But tonight he needed to talk to Gert.
He found her behind the counter, getting ready to close up for the night.
“All set?” she asked, taking the check and Rafe’s cash to the cash register.
“Yeah, uh?… earlier you mentioned Fee is your niece.”
“She sure is.”
“So that means you’re?… uh?… you’re like her?”
“Well, we do have the same brown eyes and neither of us can carry a tune, so I suppose you could say that.”
Maybe he was wrong.
Gert looked up with a grin. “I’m just messing with you,” she said with a laugh. “We’re the same.” She winked.
Rafe blew out a sigh. “Okay, so you know about?… me?”
“I know plenty about you,” she said. “And your brothers and your late father.”
He winced. Nymphs trafficked in gossip. Rafe shuddered to think what this woman had heard about him and his pack over the years.
“Don’t worry.” She patted his hand on the counter. “It’s not all bad. If it was, we wouldn’t let you anywhere near our Ruby.”
Rafe bit down on a smile. Ruby really didn’t realize how much this town had claimed her as their own. She may still feel like an outsider, but the folks of Maple Hollow were ready to throw down for her.
Rafe liked that.
He cleared his throat. “Right. Okay, good.” He ran a hand through his hair as Gert watched him fidget.
“Spit it out, kid,” she said with no venom behind her words.
“You said you sensed something wasn’t right. What is it?”
Gert shrugged. “Probably something to do with that Highlander sniffing around here.”
“You’ve seen him.”
“Him and his friends.”
“Shit.”
“They need to go. We don’t need any more trouble than what we’ve already got.”
Rafe bristled. “The County pack never bothers you.”
“Anymore.” She raised a challenging brow and Rafe couldn’t argue. He knew there’d been plenty of confrontations between the pack and the locals in the past. It had only been in the last few decades that the pack had mostly retreated, for their own safety, not as any kind of favor to the humans.
“Anymore,” he agreed. “But I don’t know what they’re doing here.”
Her brows rose again to her silver hairline. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh Rafe, I think you know perfectly well why they’re here. They want to get their paws on a seer.”
Fuck. He knew it, but it still tore his heart out every time he heard it.
“What am I supposed to do about it?”
Gert laughed, shaking her head. “You’re the wolf here. You tell me.”
He growled in frustration, and Gert leaned over the counter. “It seems to me,” she said, “that wolves belong in packs. You’re not going to get much done on your own.”
“I don’t have a pack anymore.”
Gert rolled her lips together like she was disappointed in him. “If you really want to protect that girl, you’ll do whatever it takes.”
“I’m doing everything I can for Lena.”
“I’m not talking about Lena.”
Gert held his gaze, not allowing any space for his bullshit. “They’re both seers, Rafe. They’re both in danger. And you can pretend all you want that you don’t see what Ruby is to you, but I can see it, no clairvoyance necessary.”
“And what is she to me?” he asked, his voice a dangerous rasp.
She cackled. “Oh, you poor bastard.”
“Gert—”
“Just go get your girl,” she said with a shake of her head as she wandered back into the kitchen, her laughter trailing behind her.
Fucking nymphs, he thought as he stormed across the street to pick up Ruby. They meddle and they gossip and they lie. Wasn’t that why his father hated them? He didn’t need to worry about what Gert said.
He shoved open the door to the bar, letting a burst of cold air in with him.
“Close the door!” Tom shouted from his usual booth, and Rafe kicked it shut behind him.
“Thank you!” half a dozen locals called.
Rafe raised a hand in greeting.
“Hi, Rafe!” they shouted back. Gil and Kev were here, of course. Sierra at the bar next to Sal. A few guys were hanging around the dartboard in the back. It struck Rafe how familiar this place had become to him over the past few weeks.
How long it had been since any place felt familiar.
He found Ruby immediately through the dwindling crowd.
Her scent reached him even through the funk of spilled beers and fried food.
She smelled like warmth and spice and home .
Any rational thoughts he had about keeping his distance fled his mind as soon as he walked in the door and found her leaning over the edge of the bar, her short skirt skimming the backs of her thighs.
He was an idiot to think he could ever stay away.
He knew that now, standing here, watching her laugh with Macy, noticing the way wisps of hair curled around her face.
She was beautiful and fearless and sexy as hell.
What was Ruby to him?
Why did she haunt him like this?
He pushed off the wall and stalked toward her. She turned, eyes wide in the dim bar.
“Ready?” he asked and her lips tipped down into a frown. Still angry with him. Angry was good. Angry was safe.
“If she’s not ready, I am.” Sierra winked at him.
“Ready,” Ruby nearly growled and Sierra cackled.
“Message received!” she said with a smile. “That’s okay. There’s a cute hiker near the dartboard I’ve been meaning to talk to.” She took her drink and hopped down from her seat, landing surprisingly gracefully considering the height of her heels.
“Thanks for closing.” Ruby waved to Macy as she grabbed her things from the bar.
“Head home soon, Sal,” she said, giving the man’s arm a squeeze.
He sat here most nights just for the company.
Which was basically what Rafe did too when he wasn’t hiding at the diner or hanging out at the laundromat with Dolores.
Which gave him an idea.
“Dolores might need some help getting all her laundry home,” Rafe suggested, and Sal’s face lit up.
“Good thinking, big guy,” he said, hopping down from his stool with a new spring in his step.
“Have fun,” Ruby said, sending Rafe a small grateful smile for his kindness. She cared about the old man even though he drove her crazy. He felt like a lot of relationships in Ruby’s life were like that.
By the time they were in his truck, the smile was gone.
He blew out a ragged sigh. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh, yeah?”
He glanced at her from the corner of his eye and she was smirking at him. That fucking mouth .
“Yes.”
“For…”
He was not good at this. He was not good at apologies, or words for that matter, and clearly Ruby had no intention of making things easier. Not that he deserved easy.
“For being a dick today. For calling you silly.”
“That was pretty dickish.”
He sputtered a laugh. “Yeah, it was.”
Ruby’s pinky brushed against his where his hand rested on the center console. Barely a touch, but his body stood at attention, completely cued into hers. She slid her hand into his, their palms pressing together. She gave his fingers a squeeze and he felt it echo in his chest.
He was so screwed.
“Ruby, I don’t know what I’m doing with you, with this…”
“Me neither,” she said with her own self-deprecating laugh. “So maybe just hold my hand?”
He nodded.
He could do that.
He could hold her hand.
But by the time they reached the house, Rafe could barely see straight. It was all a blur, the overgrown lawn, the crooked path through it, the squeaky hinges as the door opened.
Ruby peered into the house, looking uncertain, and he wondered how many times she’d come home scared. How many times she’d found Lena here in trouble and had to take care of her alone. He forced himself to unhook his hand from hers.
“I’ll take a look around. Go check on your sister.” He nodded toward the stairs and Ruby hesitated, uncertainty written on her face. “I’ll meet you in your room,” he added, and her features softened again.
By the time he’d walked back inside, up the stairs and opened Ruby’s door, he’d nearly convinced himself he could handle being near her.
“Everything okay?” She was asking about the house, about the other wolves. She was asking about her safety, but all Rafe could feel was how not okay he was.