Chapter 9
The third workshop went ahead as planned. Pax and Ari had talked it through and agreed with Bree’s assessment that calling off anything that had already been announced would signal a change in pattern, but nothing new would be announced until the situation was resolved.
Mr. Leeland’s sessions looked like business-as-usual, which was exactly what they wanted anyone watching to see. Just a group of young people learning about load-bearing walls and circuit diagrams from an old man. Nothing unusual. Nothing worth noting.
Ari attended with Pax. He was helpful in ways that complemented rather than duplicated what Pax had been doing.
Where Pax gravitated toward the technical questions and hands-on demonstrations, Ari knew how to drop a joke at exactly the right moment to reset attention.
He also knew how to make a shy seventeen-year-old feel like their question was the most interesting one anyone had asked all morning.
He had always been the more naturally social of the two of them, and he deployed that skill well.
Between them, they also kept watch on the street visible through the store’s front windows. So far, they’d seen nothing unusual. The car from earlier in the week was gone. The man from the diner hadn’t come back.
That wasn’t exactly reassuring. Everything was peaceful, but they were still on the lookout, since things could change in an instant.
After the session concluded, while the young people drifted out and Mr. Leeland put away his demonstration materials with the pleased expression of an old man who had found his purpose again, Bree appeared with coffee.
Pax took the mug she gave him and stood at the back window to look out at the alley behind the store.
“I haven’t noticed anything today,” she said in a low tone, standing beside him.
“Nothing visible.” He watched the alley. “That’s not precisely the same thing.”
“Okay.” She stood close, but not touching, and it drove him a little crazy. He was beginning to crave her touch. “So what do we do in the meantime?”
“We keep watch, stay alert, and learn what we can. We also let the Clan’s shaman do his thing.” He glanced at her. “We carry on as normally as possible, which includes your dad explaining to teenagers why studs are sixteen inches on center.”
The corner of her mouth moved upward in a slight grin. “He loves that one. He’s been explaining it to people for thirty years.”
“He’s good at it.”
“Yes, he is.” She gazed down at her coffee cup. “You know, he asked me about you this morning while we were eating breakfast.”
Pax kept his expression neutral. “What did he ask?”
“He asked if you were going to be around for a while.” She tilted her head slightly, as if considering the words they’d spoken that morning. “I told him I thought so. He nodded and went back to his eggs.” She paused. “You know that with my father, that’s the equivalent of a ringing endorsement.”
“I’ve always liked your dad,” Pax replied, grinning.
“And he got used to you, once he saw how protective of me you were when we were kids.” She nudged his shoulder with hers in a teasing way. “I think, now that we’re adults, he’s grown to like you, too. Just don’t let anything happen to him, Pax. Or yourself.”
“I won’t,” he promised.
She glanced at him sideways, and their gazes met. They held that pose in the noise and movement of the back room. Then Tomás appeared at Bree’s side, asking about a delivery that was due later in the day. The moment ended and Pax watched the alley as he thought about protecting Bree and her dad.
The days after the workshop settled into a rhythm he hadn’t expected to be so easy.
He was at the store most mornings by eight-thirty.
He’d stopped finding a reason to justify his presence there.
It was simply where he wanted to be, and he’d promised himself he was done pussyfooting around where Bree was concerned.
The watcher had already seen them together a lot. Leaving her unprotected wasn’t going to do her any favors at this point, so Pax had decided to just go for it, instead.
Each morning, he went in through the back door and there was coffee waiting for him. They talked while she opened up or worked through the first delivery of the day.
They talked about anything and everything. When no one else was around they could speak freely about the Clan’s slow integration into the store’s ecosystem. Another workshop was planned, though they had postponed announcing any new ones, for now.
Bree asked more about Pax’s career and the kinds of jobs he’d done over the years. He found himself describing missions he’d never described to anyone outside of a debriefing room, and telling her things only his twin knew.
She listened, taking it all in and getting to the heart of his emotions, which was something he never really did with anyone.
It seemed natural and right to tell her how he really felt about things.
Their talks touched something deep inside him, and he thought they were healing his soul.
He always felt better after one of their heart-to-hearts.
One morning, he came in and found her up a tall, rickety ladder replacing a fluorescent tube in the far corner of the store. It was not a ladder she should have been on alone. He crossed the store in about four strides, put his hand on the rail, and demanded, “What are you doing?”
“Changing a bulb,” she replied, from up on the ladder.
“Without someone holding the base of this ancient thing?” His tone was incredulous. She knew better than to take such risks. Didn’t she?
“I’ve done this a hundred—”
“Give me the old bulb.” He cut her off, holding up his hand toward her.
She looked down at him from the top of the ladder with an irritated expression. “It’s only an eight-foot ladder,” she muttered, sounding disgruntled.
“Which is tall enough that I’d prefer you not fall off it.”
She paused, seeming to consider. Then, she handed down the old tube and accepted the new one from him.
She completed the task with brisk efficiency while he stood at the base of the ladder, holding it to keep it steady.
He really tried not to notice the great view this gave him of her legs, and failed miserably.
“Thank you,” she said, coming down the ladder and landing close because the space at the base of the ladder was occupied by him.
“You’re welcome.” He didn’t move back immediately.
He couldn’t quite make himself do it. She was close enough that he could see the fine detail of the sawdust in her hair and the way she was deliberately trying to keep her expression neutral, even though her cheeks were flushed.
“You need to ask for help with the high stuff.”
“Noted.”
“Bree.”
She looked up at him from a range of approximately six inches away. Her eyes were very blue and there was a thread of exasperation in them that he found wholly appealing. “I have been running this store mostly on my own for years now,” she said.
“I know.”
“I’ve changed a great many light bulbs in my time.”
“I know that, too.” He reached out and removed a piece of sawdust from her hair, because it was there and his hand was already in the vicinity, and he was apparently incapable of not touching her. Her breath caught, just barely. “Ask anyway. Please?”
She held his gaze. The store was calm around them. Her father was in his chair at the front window, and there were no customers at this hour.
“Fine,” she said finally. “Next time I’ll ask.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re insufferable,” she said, but the warm tone belied her words.
“Ari says that’s a family trait.” Before he stepped back, he caught her hand, turned it over, and pressed a kiss to her knuckles, right beside a scrape she’d earned off some piece of stubborn inventory.
Her breath caught for a second time, and his jaguar preened, taking full credit for the entire morning.
He gave her room then, and she went behind the counter with a studied air of composure that pleased him almost as much as the blush she was failing to hide.
Later that day, Pax reached out to the leader of the Wraiths.
He’d talked it over with Ari and they’d decided it was time to set the wheels in motion to get some answers.
Ari had filed his report with Major Moore at the completion of his mission to Grizzly Cove, but after he was injured, Pax hadn’t had contact with the Wraiths’ leader at all.
It was past time Pax spoke to someone in Wyoming to find out what they had known, and what they knew now, about the situation that had almost cost Pax his leg and, very nearly, his life.
Especially considering that the trouble in Salt Lake City had likely followed him home.
Pax not only needed, but deserved whatever answers the Wraiths could give him, and it was time to start asking questions.
As it happened, Major Moore wasn’t available when Pax called, but he managed to speak to another man in the outfit that he knew well and had worked with before.
The man had been left in charge while Moore was out “dealing with something,” which probably meant he was on a mission.
Had to be something pretty important to get Moore off his mountain.
These days, he usually ran the show remotely, considering he now had a mate and was becoming more of a family man.
He didn’t actually go on missions very often. At least, that’s what Pax had heard.
The man Jesse Moore left in charge was named Cole Parker.
He was relatively new to the Wraiths, having retired from Delta Force the previous year, after several decades in black ops for Uncle Sam.
He was a shifter, so he was in the prime of his life, and would continue to be for many years to come, if he didn’t get killed on a mission.