29. Daniel #2
He's striding out from behind the lodge, carrying a stack of firewood so massive it looks like he's trying to singlehandedly rebuild a log cabin. The pile is taller than his head, a precariously balanced tower of split logs, and he's managing it with a frankly absurd ease.
And, because Leo is nothing if not a goddamn cartoon character, he has a flashlight jammed between his teeth, the beam bobbing with every step. It's so ridiculously, over-the-top Leo that for a second I forget all about the tension in the car.
"What in the ever-loving fuck are you doing?" The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.
He drops the wood with a resounding thud that makes the ground vibrate. He pulls the flashlight from his mouth, breathing heavily, a cloud of white vapor puffing from his lips with each exhale.
"Power's out." He gestures with the flashlight toward the dark lodge. "Went out about an hour ago. There have been non-stop announcements on the radio. A massive storm front is rolling in, way worse than the last one."
He kicks at the massive pile of wood at his feet. "Chris dropped all this off. For the lodge, for anyone who needs it. He's a good guy. Mrs. Lacey is a damn hero, though. Going room to room with candles and extra blankets, making sure all the guests are settled and not panicking."
A new sense of urgency, a practical, pack-oriented instinct, kicks in. My brain immediately shifts from the emotional fallout of the bathroom to the logistical nightmare of a town-wide power outage on the eve of a blizzard-pocalypse.
"What can we do?" Gray asks, already looking toward the dark, imposing lodge.
Before I can even form a plan, Mara speaks for the first time in what feels like hours. Her voice is quiet but firm, cutting through the cold air. "I know where Margaret keeps the extra candles and emergency lanterns."
She doesn't wait for a response, just turns and practically jogs toward the dark entrance of the café, her movements quick and purposeful. Eager for a task, a purpose, anything to avoid being with us. I watch her go, a familiar ache tightening in my chest.
She's running again. Not from a pack of abusive Alphas, but from a conversation. From us. From herself. And it hurts just as much.
The moment the café door swings shut behind her, Leo's demeanor shifts.
The helpful, task-oriented mountain man vanishes, replaced by the sharp, perceptive friend I know too well.
He takes a step closer to Gray and me, the beam of his flashlight pointed at the ground, casting our faces in an eerie, upward glow.
"Okay." He crosses his arms over his chest, his eyes narrowing as he looks from me to Gray.
"What the hell happened? You three all smell…
different." He takes a deeper, more deliberate sniff, brow furrowing in concentration.
"You all smell like Mara. Like, a lot like Mara.
And not in a 'we were all in a car together' kind of way. Did something happen?"
My entire body goes rigid. Panic, cold and sharp, lances through me, and my stomach clenches into a tight knot. I feel Gray tense beside me, a subtle shift in posture that I've known since our college days.
We're a pack of highly intelligent, capable men, but in that moment, we look and feel like a couple of teenagers who've been caught with our hands in the cookie jar. A very forbidden cookie jar.
I open my mouth, then close it. What could I possibly say?
Well, Leo, funny story. We stopped for gas, and Mara went into pre-heat in the bathroom, and Gray fingered her against a sink while I jacked off in the corner.
It was a beautiful, bonding experience for all of us, and now she won't look at us.
Yeah, that wouldn't go over well. It would probably end with me on the receiving end of Leo's right hook and Mara never speaking to any of us again.
I clear my throat, forcing my lawyer-brain to engage, to find a way to deflect, to delay. I straighten my shoulders, adopting my most authoritative, no-nonsense courtroom posture.
"Leo." My voice is low and serious, laced with a gravity I hope he respects.
"We will explain everything, I promise. But right now, there's a town-wide power outage and a blizzard on the way.
We need to secure the place. We need to make sure the guests are safe, that the pipes don't freeze, that Mrs. Lacey has what she needs.
We'll talk as soon as this is sorted out. "
Leo holds my gaze for a long moment. He knows I'm dodging, deflecting like a pro. But he also knows I'm right. He can see the bigger picture, the immediate needs of the town and his friends. He lets out a short, sharp breath, a cloud of white vapor in the frigid air.
"Fine." He turns and starts grabbing armfuls of the firewood, his muscles bunching with the effort. He's already moving on, focused on the next task. But as he heads toward the lodge's main entrance, he glances back over his shoulder. "You owe me. And it had better be a damn good story."
I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding, the cold air burning my lungs. Gray claps a heavy hand on my shoulder, a silent gesture of solidarity.
"Good save," he says.
I'm not so sure. I've just postponed the inevitable. I've kicked the can down the road, and the road is about to be buried in several feet of snow.
As I look out at the dark town, at the first few flakes of the new storm beginning to drift down from the heavy sky, I know one thing for certain: we have bigger problems than a very complicated, very messy, very hot encounter in a gas station bathroom. For now.
But later… later, that conversation is going to happen. And I have a feeling it's going to be a hell of a lot more dangerous than any blizzard.