30. Thirty
Thirty
R yker had never seen Leslie so at peace. Not that she’d been a conflicted mess before, but the conversation with her parents seemed to have filled her with an ocean of settled confidence. He loved to see it. He loved to see her—his true love, his beautiful artist—thriving and happy. Friday’s early morning hours and the entirety of Saturday flew by. They trekked up into the foothills outside town and spent hours talking, kissing, and chasing each other from tree to tree in leaps and bounds, their laughter startling birds and squirrels.
On Sunday morning, breakfast at the diner was an unspoken default. Traditions were easy to build in Harmony Ridge. It was one of the things Ryker loved about Leslie’s home. The flurry of his city was energizing; Harmony Ridge was restful. And at his best, he could admit now that both energy and rest were valuable.
A tradition didn’t have to become a rut, however. Ryker scanned the menu for something he hadn’t tried yet. “I’d like the eggs-and-cheese scramble with bacon and green peppers. Oh, and a side of cinnamon roll French toast.”
“Got it,” their server said. “And for you, Leslie?”
Leslie hadn’t opened her menu, of course. “Farmer’s market omelet and a side of blueberry ricotta pancakes.”
“Got it. Coming right up.”
As the server moved away, Ryker shook his head. “Do you ever not order those two things?”
“No.” She folded her hands on the table in a serene gesture that was ruined by her smirk. “I might occasionally order additional things. But I never don’t order those two things.”
From outside, two people got out of a recently parked vehicle and headed toward the door. Based on their scents, one of them was human; the other was a wolf. When the little bell chimed above the door, Ryker looked over his shoulder. He couldn’t help needing to track a wolf’s entrance to a location with only one door.
The wolf in question was Rhett, the pack beta. He met Ryker’s eyes as he entered the diner ahead of his companion, then gave a brief nod of acknowledgment, which Ryker returned. The human who followed Rhett was a woman with short black hair. She wore a flattering black skirt, a royal-blue top, and low heels. Ryker might not have noticed her wardrobe if it hadn’t contrasted so much with the wolf’s clothes: practical trail pants and a camo T-shirt with the arms cut off.
The dude had some arms on him. As if Ryker needed the reminder of brute wolf strength while he was trying to be chill sharing a thousand-square-foot restaurant with the beta who had growled at him out on Lunar Lane.
“Ryker?” Leslie stage-whispered.
“It’s all good,” he said.
“Neighbors, remember?”
“Yeah. It’s fine.”
He gave himself a moment of self-check-in and realized…he was actually fine. Instinct kept him watching as Rhett and the woman made their way to a booth on the far side of the diner, but Ryker didn’t feel the need to pummel the guy or even to beat him at chess. Yes, he was a vampire. Yes, Rhett was a wolf. But as long as any wolf proved himself a good guy…did his gamey scent or his ability to growl from his chest really matter?
“Would you mind if I talked to them for a minute?” Ryker said.
Leslie looked as surprised by his words as he was. “Want me to come with?”
“Nah. I just want to clear the air.”
“Ah, okay. I approve.”
Of course, the wolf had heard every word. As Ryker approached, Rhett leaned across the table with a stage whisper of his own. “Vampire incoming. He wants to clear the air.”
“Oh?” the woman said. “What did you do to him?”
“You know, you could try having a little faith in me sometimes.”
“Sure, but there’s you, and then there’s your diplomacy skills.”
Ryker halted next to their table, and Rhett’s date smiled up at him, snark replaced instantly with sincerity. “You’re Ryker Maddox, aren’t you? I’m Vivian Jones, Rhett’s mate.”
“Pleased to meet you, Vivian.”
“Same.”
“I won’t take much of your time,” Ryker said. “But you’ll be seeing me around all the time now, and I’m hoping we can be…” What did he hope for? They’d never been at war, so calling a truce seemed dramatic.
“Civil?” Rhett’s mouth twisted in a smirk. “Sure, why not.”
Vivian rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Rhett, you take the anti-social cake.”
“More than civil,” Ryker said, and then he knew his hope. Leslie had said it best. “I’m hoping we can be good neighbors.”
“Absolutely,” Vivian said. “Thanks for making the first move. Wolves tend to play social defense outside their pack.”
“Not without reason,” Rhett said quietly.
Ryker had only the slightest idea what those reasons were. He looked forward to living here part-time and learning more. He nodded acceptance, and Rhett’s carefully blank face slowly relaxed.
After a long moment, Rhett nodded back. “Good neighbors sounds good to me.”
Ryker nodded. “Okay. Good.”
“But try not to wake my pack again in the dead of night for no reason.”
Ryker gave a low hum of acknowledgment, and the wolf’s eyebrows arched. His hearing must pick up at least some of the musical layers. Well, he didn’t bristle or growl. That seemed promising.
“Waking y’all was thoughtless, and I apologize.”
“Yeah, it was,” Rhett said. He waited a full beat, then gave Ryker another, final nod. “Apology accepted.”
“Now I’ll let you get back to your breakfast.”
Before he could step away from the table, Vivian said, “So, Ryker, will you be moving to Tennessee?”
“Part-time. And Leslie’s moving to Virginia part-time too. We both love our homes too much to let them go, and we’ll have the means to hold onto both of them.”
Vivian’s brown eyes brightened. “That’s great.” She cocked one eyebrow at Rhett. “Hey, wolf, why didn’t I keep my condo?”
“Did you want to keep it?”
She sat back in the booth, folded her arms, and studied Rhett for a long moment. Then a smile took over her face as though against her will. “You know… I didn’t really care.”
“There you go.”
Ryker wanted to laugh, but he didn’t know them well enough yet to show his amusement at their constant parrying. Funny how couples interacted so differently. Based on the easy body language between these two, conversations like sparring matches worked well for them.
He was heading back to his table a minute later, pondering what he and Leslie looked like from the outside. They weren’t verbal jousters, that was for sure. Maybe the words they’d found to describe themselves so far were still the best. Calmly happy.
“That went well,” Leslie said as he slid back into their booth across from her.
“It did, didn’t it? I’m glad I went over.”
“I was just thinking about it…about the life we’re going to have. Two homes to love, a little town and a medium-sized city, and a whole lot of people. Vampires, humans, wolves. It’s going to be so full.”
“Full in a good way?” he said.
“As long as you don’t forget I’m an introvert, unlike your whole family and most of your friends.”
Ryker reached across the table, and she set her hand in his. “My memory’s pretty flawless.”
“Good point.” Leslie traced a slow circle on his palm with her thumb. “So, that said… Yes, full in a good way. I love your friends and family, and I love your home, and I love exploring our culture for myself. The last few months, my life has gotten so much bigger. I guess yours hasn’t, though.”
“Hmm.” He sifted his memories, took stock of how it felt to be here with her now, ordering their favorites from the only open restaurant in town, knowing every inch of Harmony Ridge like the back of his hand, knowing this wise and beautiful woman had chosen to be his. “Not bigger. Slower.”
Leslie’s thumb went still halfway around the next circle. “Slower? That sounds disappointing.”
“Nah. The opposite. I catalogue scents in the woods now. I savor food on my tongue longer. I even remember to slake most of the time—before I get thirsty. That’s all you, Leslie.”
Her eyes turned opalescent for a moment despite the public setting. “Will you look at us.”
“Right? We’re killing it.”
Their food arrived, and they were quiet as they enjoyed it. Leslie closed her eyes and groaned in happiness at the same omelet, the same pancakes she’d enjoyed the first weekend he met her—as if she were tasting them for the first time. It was all Ryker could do not to vault the table and steal a blueberry kiss from her tempting lips.
This would be his life. He didn’t see it the way Leslie did, but he knew. Countless flights between Tennessee and Virginia, countless meals like this one. She would create new dioramas, and he would help solve new cases. One day there would be a child. They would keep growing, learning, changing, adventuring and resting by turns…and one thing would remain the same all the centuries of their lives. They would be together.