Cool-Headed (Cold-Blooded Alpha #13)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

“Mate.”

The man walking toward me is looking right at me, so he must be talking to me. With his reddish-brown hair, tan skin, and unusual but seriously gorgeous silver-green eyes, he would have definitely caught my attention even if he hadn’t yelled at me the moment I stepped out of the grocery store.

Mart, my new boss, asked me to meet his son, Fisher, who stopped by with his new girlfriend. They must be the couple standing just outside the grocery store, looking expectantly at me.

Feeling hunted, I edge back a step, not liking the way this guy is bearing down on me.

As if he suspects I’m about to bolt, he drops the takeout cup and pie box from the diner a few feet away, blind or indifferent to black coffee splashing across the sidewalk and a cherry pie spilling from the white box.

He picks up speed, his eyes locked on mine. “Mine.”

He, honest to God, growls at me.

In public.

In broad daylight.

In the middle of the street.

I’ve had more than my fair share of crazy to last a lifetime. I’m not interested in anymore.

“No way, no how, psycho,” I mutter, spinning on my heel and re-entering the grocery store, the door banging shut behind me. As it does, I hear a woman laughing.

Mart’s voice drifts from the back of the grocery store. A call must have distracted him before he could follow me out and introduce me to his son himself.

I hover near the front counter.

Do I hide in the back from the strange man outside or return to filling a shelf?

The bell chimes as someone pushes the door open.

It’s him. Because, of course it is with the way he was stalking me on the street.

The man steps into the store, making the space feel even smaller. He’s in blue denim, a dark gray T-shirt, and sneakers. Perfectly ordinary clothes. Yet he radiates this potent energy that makes me want to run.

Never taking my eyes off him, I move toward the counter instinctively, needing to put an obstacle between us. My heart is pounding, and I’m not sure if I should scream or start flinging cans at his head.

He stops prowling toward me, his forehead furrowing. Surprised. “You’re scared.”

“I’m not scared of you.” I subtly slip my right hand behind me and pull my pepper spray from the back pocket of my jeans, beyond grateful I didn’t leave it in my purse before I started my shift.

There’s no sign anyone was following me from Kansas, but my pepper spray has become my security blanket, and I never feel safe without it close by.

Thankfully, he keeps his distance. I may be terrified, but I am not defenseless. If he comes any closer, I’ll pepper-spray him in the eyes, kick him where it hurts, and fling cans of soup at his head until he backs the fuck away from me. There is no way this ends for him in other way than pain.

“I’m Vaden Rowe. You’re mine,” the gorgeous lunatic declares with a perfectly straight face.

My eyes narrow. “Did someone just defrost you?” He looks to be in his late twenties and he smells nice, of rain-drenched wild forest, but that’s no guarantee he isn’t some relic from the past in a nice modern package.

He blinks. “Defrost me?”

I gesture toward him. “Are you a newly defrosted caveman? You can’t go around growling at women or claiming them. It’s not normal behavior.”

Halfway through my spiel, I notice his eyes drift to the object I’m waving around for emphasis.

My pepper spray.

“Why do you have that?” he demands.

Caveman. Definitely.

“To remind people to keep their distance.” I glare at him, tightening my grip around it so he knows I won’t hesitate to use it.

The door behind Vaden swings open, and the couple who were outside the grocery store step in.

The woman, petite with bright copper-red hair and the same silver-green eyes, though a couple of years younger, nudges him, none too gently, out of her way.

“You stalked a woman into the grocery store, and clearly, you scared her. Dial back the intensity, big brother.”

“I did not scare her, Ree,” he yells as I say at the same time I shout, “He didn’t scare me.”

Everyone looks at the pepper spray I have clenched in my right hand. I tuck it behind me and clear my throat, feeling the tips of my ears heat. “I was just a little startled, that’s all.”

“Vaden is my brother,” the woman says with a friendly smile. “He can be a little intense, but he’s harmless. Promise. I’m Averie, his sister.”

I eye shoulders that belong on a Super Bowl-winning linebacker. “Harmless. Right.”

“Ah, sorry to abandon you before the introductions,” Mart calls out cheerfully as he emerges from the office at the back of the store.

I shove my pepper spray into my back pocket before he fires me, smoothing invisible creases from the front of my blue apron.

“That’s okay,” Averie says with a smile. “My brother was just introducing himself to your new employee.”

I raise my brow at her and she adds, “In his own distinct way,” which makes me smile, liking her despite myself.

Yesterday afternoon, I came into the store to ask about a job. I’d already tried the diner, and the owner, a large tattooed man called Lucky, suggested I try the grocery store.

Mart was so friendly that I liked him immediately. He told me that since his son no longer worked for him, he could use a little help. I filled shelves for an hour, and after watching me, he told me the job was mine if I wanted it. I nearly bit his hand off accepting.

“Shelby just started, but she’s already done so much,” Mart says, pleased.

I glance at the well-laid-out and organized store. “You have a really good system here, Mart.”

“Shelby,” Vaden says, eyes hooded.

When he says my name, it’s another claiming. Deep and intense, his voice fills my stomach with butterflies. For one long moment, it’s literally like we’re the only people in the world. His attention is that magnetic.

Then Averie bumps her shoulder into Vaden’s, breaking our stare. Then she grins at the brown-haired man on her left, who appears to be in his mid-twenties. “This is Fisher.”

Introductions were hardly necessary. He’s a younger version of Mart, from the top of his short brown hair to his warm brown eyes. Even the smile he flashes me is familiar.

“When Dad said he’d hired someone to work at the store, I knew I wanted to meet you.” Fisher’s expression is open, but his long, searching look is probing.

Instantly, I feel guilty. Mart has been so nice, and my secrets could kill him. Maybe I should have turned down his job offer.

Mart snorts. “You didn’t need to check up on me—or Shelby. My instincts are rarely wrong. I can trust Shelby, and so can you.”

With my guilt ramping up and me trying to avoid meeting Fisher’s gaze, my attention drifts back to Vaden, who has both hands in his pockets, eyes fixed on me. His stare feels wild, intense, and hot all at once.

“Have you worked in a grocery store before?” Fisher asks me.

I rip my eyes from Vaden’s penetrating stare to focus on Mart’s son.

It’s a smart question. Probing, worded politely, but he’s still looking out for his dad.

“Yeah, but not for a while. I worked at Trader Joe’s a couple of years ago.

It was in New York, and it was hell on earth on a Saturday afternoon.

” I gesture to the packed shelves. “Your dad has a really good stock rotation system here, and everyone who’s come in has been really patient while I figure out the cash register. ”

Fisher makes a face. “Ah, the cash register. How many times have you had to whack the thing when it gets stuck?”

“Just twice so far, but I think I've found the perfect spot. Ask me again tomorrow, and I might not be feeling so confident I’ve mastered my technique.”

Fisher grins at me, and I relax, sensing I just passed a test.

“So you’re new to Hardin?” Averie asks.

I nod. “And to Colorado. I’m on a road trip.” There’s enough truth in my lie that it’s easy to keep my story straight. Everyone buys it, and no one ever questions what prompted my road trip.

Vaden’s eyes narrow. “Hmm.”

He doesn’t look as if he believes me. I can’t think why when it’s a lie I’ve told so often it slips off my tongue. Easy to tell and easy to believe.

Averie perks up. “Fisher and I are going to visit my family in Oklahoma, and then we’re traveling around South America for a couple of months. It’s been on his bucket list forever.”

“That’s incredible. You must be excited,” I say.

Averie glances at Vaden. “Oh, I was. But I thought we could stay in town for just a little longer. Anyway, we should probably leave you to it.” When Vaden doesn’t move, Averie hooks his arm and literally drags him to the door.

She’s stronger than she looks because it doesn’t take all that effort, even though he’s a foot taller and has twice the muscle she does.

“Oh, before I forget, I have the key to my house, Dad,” Fisher says, pulling a small set from his back pocket and crossing over to hand them to his dad. “Thanks for looking after the place for me.”

Mart hugs him. “Anytime. Let me know when you’re leaving, and I’ll come see you before you go if it’s not right away.”

Averie continues dragging an unwilling Vaden from the grocery store, muttering, “Stop being an idiot, you’re creeping her out with your staring. You will see her again.”

I turn away from him, torn between relief that he’s going and curiosity about him. Why was he so sure that I’m his? And what does being his mate mean?

Fisher leaves with a smile and a wave that I return.

No sooner has the door slammed shut behind them than Mart is offering me the keys to Fisher’s house. “Here.”

I look from the keys to his face. “What?”

He takes my hand and places the keys into it. “The Bed & Breakfast is miles away from the grocery store, and it’s too expensive to stay there long-term.”

When he interviewed me for the job, I told him my plans weren’t set in stone, but I wanted to stay in Hardin for at least the next few weeks.

Hardin is small, and the Bed & Breakfast I stayed at last night costs more than I want to spend.

I’ve gotten used to basic, cheap motels that stretch my money—and my rapidly dwindling bank account—farther.

I can’t afford to stay in town for long if I can’t find a more affordable place.

Still, this offer is far too generous to accept, even though I’m dying to say yes.

I try to hand the keys back. “That’s really generous of you, Mart, and I appreciate it, but you don’t know me. You don’t want me staying in your son’s house.”

I passed Fisher’s test, but I’m a fraud and a danger to everyone around me.

Meeting Mart was like stepping into warmth when you’ve been shivering in the cold too long.

My heart literally hurt as I watched him hug Fisher, and I wanted someone to hug me, miss me, love me just like that.

So I know I’ll stay even though I should leave.

Mart shakes his head, determined. “You need a place to stay, and I need someone to keep an eye on the house. We’re doing each other a favor.”

I lift my brow at a favor that benefits me more than it does him, but he’s too busy walking to the counter to see it.

“I’ll just put up a sign so everyone knows I’m out for fifteen minutes, and I’ll show you the place. It’s not far. Fisher moved all his personal things out so they’ll still be furniture and whatever else you might need.”

I join him at the counter. “But—”

“And I can think about your shifts for the rest of the week.” He lifts his head to flash me a grin. “I’m as easygoing as they come, but handing over control of this place is going to be a slow process. I’ve run it too long.”

“What—”

“We can talk about the rent another time. Maybe we can roll it into the hours you work at the store?” He finishes his sign and lifts it, turning to show it to me. “Hopefully, this will encourage anyone to head to the diner for a coffee while they wait for me to get back to the store.”

It’s hard not to smile at his ‘Gone Fishin’, Back in 15’ sign. He even drew a stick-figure with a fishing pole and a fish at the end of it. It’s not the best drawing I’ve ever seen, but it’s good enough to put a smile on my face.

He shoos me to the back to hang up my blue apron and grab my coat and purse, then urges me out to my car, a green Toyota, while he puts up the sign and locks the grocery store. He tells me, “Give me a sec, and I’ll jump in the truck. You can follow in your car.”

Defeated, since it looks like Mart is determined for me to stay in Fisher’s house, I head to my car, double-checking the back seat as subtly as I can before I slide behind the wheel.

I keep my eyes open, checking who’s on the street and if anyone is watching me. No one is. This time. I’m alive because I never stop being alert.

Mart jumps behind the wheel of the white truck he uses to deliver groceries to locals who live farther out of Hardin and can’t make it into town. He told me he only makes those deliveries after he’s closed the store in the evening.

I follow Mart’s small white truck away from Main Street with half my attention on him and on the rearview mirror. No one is following me, but it never hurts to be careful.

Fisher’s house is about ten minutes outside of town. Down a short, tree-lined road, it's feet from other single-story cabins. After parking out front, Mart shows me which key opens the front door, and I unlock it.

“He was looking after my dog, Jett,” Mart explains, stepping into the house.

A floorboard creaks, and he frowns down at it.

“Surprised Fisher hasn’t gotten that fixed yet.

It’s been creaky for months now.” He shakes his head.

“Anyway, Jett is with a friend of mine now, so there's no need to worry about looking after a dog. If you find any dog hairs, that’ll be why. Let me show you around.”

It’s a short tour since it’s a small, cozy cabin-like home.

It has an open-concept living area, a small kitchen, and two bedrooms at the far end of the house, away from the front door.

One room is more lived-in than the other, with storage boxes suggesting it’s more of a storage room than a second bedroom.

The backyard is large and green, fenced on both sides, but the back opens up to a lush green forest. It’s quiet and private and exactly the sort of house where no one would ever think to look for me.

My shoulders relax as, for the first time in the longest time, I let myself believe that I’m finally safe.

“It’s perfect,” I tell Mart, beyond grateful for his offer. “Thanks.”