Chapter 2 #2
Iris came over with a massive scone and cup of tea. I shuffled my things around as she set both down. “Enjoy!”
“Thanks.”
She moved over to check on a couple of patrons. They sat in the overstuffed armchairs by the gas fireplace. One of them had a book, the other had a laptop on his lap, working.
The door chime rang and I happened to glance up. I did a double take as a pair of broad shoulders filled the frame. My mug of tea froze halfway to my mouth.
It was him!
The feral werewolf.
I’d thought about him approximately four million six hundred and twenty seven times over the past week and a half. Mostly of how much I hated him. How I would blame everything on him if I couldn’t find the witchbone knife. If I couldn’t get my magic back.
I’d also spent plenty of time thinking about how unfairly handsome he was, despite his cold, off-putting demeanor. Why? Why did the handsome ones have to be assholes?
He took two steps into The Roost, then his head snapped in my direction. When his eyes locked on mine, the distance between us stretched taut. I refused to cower. This wasn’t his property. He had no power over me here.
What was he going to do? March over and throw me over his shoulder? Hem and haw? Tell me I needed to leave town?
I glared at him. His expression didn’t change. He blinked, then turned away like he’d never seen me before, like he had no idea who I was. I gaped at his back. His audacity!
Iris quickly hurried to the register to take his order. She said something and then nervously laughed. Even from this distance, I noticed the slight flush of her cheeks. My jaw tightened. Was he just as much of an asshole to her as he’d been to me? Didn’t seem like it from the way she was acting.
Today he wore a pair of dark jeans and a long sleeved flannel shirt, unbuttoned, showing off a white shirt beneath. There was a hunting knife at his waist.
He handed over a few bills, then stuffed a few more into the tip jar—
“You’ve got a little something there, dear,” came a weathered voice beside me.
I jerked. Mona, Iris’s grandmother, let out a breathy laugh at having caught me staring. She flicked her newspaper open and pretended to return to it.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I muttered.
Mona owned The Roost. Iris did the majority of the heavy lifting, though they had a number of employees who helped with shifts. That’s what I loved about Redding. Most of the stores, restaurants, and shops were family owned.
When my eyes found the asshole werewolf again, he was standing off to the side, waiting for his drink holding a brown pastry bag. It looked comically small in his hand. My eyes remained fixed on it. What had he gotten? A muffin, maybe? No, it wasn’t filled out enough. A pastry?
Hmm…
As if he could feel me staring, his eyes lifted, settling on me.
My skin heated as a flush spread over my chest and up my neck.
I quickly turned away, focusing on my tea before returning to my lesson plan.
I kept my gaze firmly glued on my work. Still, I was overly aware of his gruff thanks and the sound of his boots crossing the floor. The door chime as he left.
I darted a peek outside just in time to see him swing into a large pickup truck parked diagonally in the spot outside. Then I quickly averted my gaze before he pulled out. The last thing I needed was for him to think I cared.
Because I didn’t.
Other than the fact that I needed to get back on his land—
“How’s the scone?”
I jumped, letting out a little yelp.
“Scare easily, huh?” Iris grinned.
I snorted. “Who was that? That man.”
“Noticed him, did you?”
“A little hard to miss.”
Iris’s laugh was light and breathy. “He’s our resident recluse.”
“Oh?”
“His name is Axel. I don’t actually know his last name. He always pays in cash.”
“Axel.” I frowned, because that wasn’t the name on the purchase record. “It’s a manly name.”
“Yeah.” Iris laughed again. “He comes in every Thursday afternoon like clockwork.”
“Oh?” I perked up. Not because I was interested in crossing paths with him again.
The opposite. In fact, if he was here Thursday afternoons, that meant he wasn’t on his massive piece of property.
How the hell had he afforded it, anyway?
He didn’t look a day past thirty-five. Then again, he was a werewolf, which meant he could be a lot older. And rich. Very rich.
Because I’d seen the purchase record.
“Yeah, he’s got like…a whole schedule.” Iris was oblivious to my inner musings. If I wasn’t mistaken, it seemed she had a bit of crush on Axel. “He usually visits the Mercantile, then heads over to Pine and Iron before coming here. I think he heads home after that.”
“Pine and Iron?”
“Oh, the hardware store.”
“Ah.” I filed it away for later.
My phone started vibrating. My stomach lurched when I saw the number.
Ambrose Blackthorn.
How the hell had he gotten my new number? Even my parents didn’t have it. Had one of my siblings given it to him? Surely not.
“I’ll let you get back to work,” Iris said, seeing my shift in focus.
“Yeah, for sure.” My voice came out weak. “Thanks for the info.”
She bustled away.
My phone stopped ringing. I waited, my nerves on edge, to see if a voicemail popped up. Nothing did. Forcing myself to disregard the call, I turned back to my lesson plan.
I’d just started typing out notes when it vibrated again. This time, with a text.
Ambrose
Had lunch with your parents today. They miss you. Your mother thinks you’re being childish. When are you coming home, darling?
Suddenly, the warm atmosphere in The Roost didn’t feel so warm anymore. I gripped my phone, my knuckles going white. For a brief moment I hesitated before clicking on his number. Then I promptly blocked it, something I should have done the moment I changed mine.