Page 30 of Entering a New World

“Not in terms of ‘you shouldn’t go there,’ more in terms of ‘but the best coffee shop in town is the one owned by Herbert Stone.’ He’s this dude in his eighties, and his shop looks like he hasn’t updated anything in decades, but he makes the best fucking donuts, Nanaimo bars, and beaver tails, so if you want to treat yourself, I’d head there. Also, his shop is on Main Street and it’s always fun to people-watch.”

Placing the map in front of him on his desk, I grinned. “You had me at ‘best coffee in town.’ I’m a barista. So… where exactly is this place you’re talking about?”

Chapter 9

Rhett

Was I stalking my mate?

Definitely not. I was giving him space, no matter how much my wolf kept whining and growling at me.

Was I maybe keeping track of what my mate was doing?

For sure.

In my defense, I didn’t even really have to do much. Every single pack member was more than happy to report back to me.

My phone buzzed for probably the fiftieth time today, and it took me every ounce of strength I had to not turn it around and check the messages.

My mate was out and about.

Visit, my wolf urged me, my pulse immediately speeding up, my muscles tensing, ready to go off at my command. Search. Find. Mate.

We’re working, I firmly told my wolf, clenching my teeth, my hands balling into fists. Besides, we promised to give him space.

We did.

My wolf didn’t understand that a week and a half probably wasn’t enough time for our mate to work through everything I’d thrown at him, especially if today was the first day he actually left his room. Mave had told me he’d stayed in bed for a week until he’d even ventured down into the Inn’s small dining hall.

Today, he appeared to be exploring the town.

There was an itch in my fingers, a desire to be the one showing him the town, introducing him to all my favorite places. To show him how beautiful Balwood truly was. How charming. How it was an amazing home for so many people, and that it could become a home for him, too.

Instead, I forced myself to stay put here, in the packhouse.

I can’t go out there. If we meet up in town, he’ll know it’s not a coincidence.

Telling myself that was one thing, actually keeping my ass rooted to the chair I was sitting in, was a whole different topic.

“Has the fork insulted you in any way?” Gray asked, an amused smile on his lips.

“Huh?”

He nodded towards the piece of cutlery in my hand and… oh. Whoops.

I let go of the completely crumpled and misshapen fork, which hits the table with a resounding clank, making people around us turn their heads.

“Soo… what did the fork do to meet such a cruel end?” Gray winked, then plopped down opposite of me, throwing his long hair over his shoulder.

“Nothing,” I mumbled, looking at the steak salad in front of me. Dammit, I’d need to get new cutlery if I wanted to keep eating.

“Okay, fine. If it’s not a problem with your fork, what else happened?”

My phone started buzzing again.

Gray raised his eyebrow. “Is there some kind of emergency happening I don’t know about?”

“Nope.” I shook my head. I didn’t want to explain what was going on. Hell, I didn’t want to think about my mate being just a couple of miles away, talking to people, laughing with them, but not with me.

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