Page 50 of Wanted

“You were lost.”

“I know.” I wave my hand between us. “But if I had pushed a little farther, I would have walked right to your house.”

His warm palm wraps around my elbow, yanking me to an abrupt stop. His dark brows snap together on his forehead, and his expression turns intense.

“You were lost.”

I flit my gaze between his silver eyes, not understanding his meaning.

“My dogs never wander off. Ever. You were so far out there, if Ashe hadn’t disappeared that day, if I hadn’t gone looking for her, I don’t know how long it would’ve taken me to find you.”

My mouth drops open, and a tiny white cloud of air escapes in the chill. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” he mutters darkly. His eyes, clouded with concern, search mine. My chest tenses at his troubled expression.

He thinks I was really in danger.

And he looks pissed about it.

I’m not sure what to do with this information.

“I’m glad you found me,” I say quietly and fidget with the sleeves of my coat.

“Me too.”

The admission illuminates the connection between us. Until Jude breaks it.

With another whistle, he sets off around the loop. I give him a moment alone before I catch up.

“We’re going out tomorrow,” he says.

“We are?”

Just ahead, the trees break, and the trail opens into the grassy lawn. It’s probably beautiful in the summer after a rain when the green is at its brightest.

“Six o’clock. You’ve been cooped up at the Sanctuary too long. I’ll buy you dinner to celebrate your first week on the job.”

Dinner.

With Jude.

Outside the Sanctuary.

He’s barely tolerated having breakfast with me.

This could either be a step in the right direction or an absolute disaster.

13

Frankie

At six o’clock sharp the next evening, Jude knocks on my bedroom door. I brush my hands over the black jeans and silky top before walking out of the room like I’m headed to my own funeral.

Every step down the stairs and into his van calls attention to my lack of experience in this department. Whatever department this is.

I know it isn’t dating. We-no-I don’t have feelings for Jude. He absolutely doesn’t have feelings for me. The idea is laughable. I’m the head conductor of the hot-mess express, and he’s just so regimented and normal.

It also feels weird to be going to dinner with my pseudo-boss.

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