Page 17 of Cursed Wolf

“Yeah, I never got a chance to tell you that. My vet internship was only part-time hours, so I waitress here to fill in the gaps.” I downed the rest of my water and then my beer. “Guess I’m about to be the most overeducated full-time waitress in Fulsburg.”

“Well, I know we’ve only just met, but from what I do know about you,” Tryn leaned back and folded his arms, “you’re hard working, kind, honest, smart, and you have a lot of integrity. You’ll land back on your feet in no time, Emmaline.”

His praise hit me in an unexpectedly deep and tender spot. No one had ever said anything resembling those words to me, and I hadn’t realized how much I craved them until now. My parents were always disappointed in me, and the cursory “Congratulations on all your hard work” from my professors had been about my academic achievements, not about me as a person.

Tryn was a complete stranger, but he saw me as worthy and valuable. A tiny, shallow part of me felt a sting that he didn’t include pretty or beautiful in those compliments, but that might have been asking for too much. He was a stunning man, on top of being a total gentleman. He probably had an equally gorgeous wife at home and knew that calling another woman pretty wasn’t appropriate. What a lucky wife.

“And now I’ve made things awkward.” He chuckled lightly, bringing his beer to his lips. “Forget I said anything.”

“No, you didn’t!” I shook my head emphatically at him. “I was just speechless. That’s very...nice of you to say.”

I was the one making things awkward, projecting so much of my personal shit onto the words he used when he was just trying to cheer me up. It didn’t mean anything more than that, and besides, he was definitely, most likely married.

My gaze dropped to his left hand, loosely circled around the base of his pint glass. No ring or ring-shaped tan line, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. Some guys just didn’t like jewelry. And Tryn, with his motorcycle, faded jeans, long hair, and overgrown scruff, seemed like the opposite of a jewelry guy.

He seemed rough, a little wild. Like the forest, he was beautiful to look at but could be dangerous if you ventured too deep with knowing your way.

I had no doubt he would have hurt Dr. Stone if pressed. Oddly enough, I wasn’t bothered by that. I was more...flattered.

Joey took my now-empty half-pint and set it in a dishwashing tray. “Anything else, Emmy?”

“Actually, yeah. I’ll take a full pour this time.”

The bartender grinned. “Atta girl. Fuck that pervy old doctor.”

“I’ll have another too.” Tryn set his empty on the edge of the bar and gave me a small smile. “If that’s alright with you.”

“Sure it is.” My casual tone didn’t betray how my belly flipped. “I’ll get this one for you.”

“No.” His expression turned stern as he shook his head. “Absolutely not.”

“Come on. It’s the least I can do for you coming to my rescue.”

“Any decent person would have done the same. Plus, I’m buying your drinks.”

I laughed. “What? No, you’re not.”

“You’ve had a rough day. You deserve it.” He angled his head toward Joey. “Doesn’t she?”

“I’d say so.” Joey set our beers in front of us. “But you’re both wrong, ‘cause your drinks are on me.” Tryn and I started to argue, but Joey whistled loudly, drowning us out as he walked away to help someone else.

“Well, he’s getting a hell of a tip.” Tryn sat back, chuckling. “Seems like a good dude.”

“He is,” I agreed. “He trained me when I first started. I’d never had a service job before, and Joey was really sweet and patient with me.”

Tryn’s eyebrows went up in amusement. “Really? No flipping burgers during high school or anything like that?”

“No, I, um...” My nerves crept back in, as they always did when I talked about my life from before vet school. How was I supposed to explain that my parents believed service jobs were for lowlifes? If they knew I was a waitress now, they’d die of shame on the spot.

“I just really wanted to focus on school,” I said to Tryn.

He nodded at that. “You were a good student, I take it?”

It wasn’t like I had a choice. “I guess so. I got good grades and was in honors classes. I spent most of my free time studying. So you could say I was a textbook nerd.”

“Smarty-pants,” Tryn teased.

I chuckled through a sip of beer. “I don’t think education is really a measure of intelligence, though. I was good at taking tests, but I wouldn’t say I was smarter than a lot of people. All those study habits helped me in vet school, though. So I’m grateful for that.”

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