Page 26 of Wanted

Both women want to push this idea that I’m destined to have a mate. Neither of them knows the truth.

That I’m not worthy of a mate.

“We’re leaving,” I tell Emery as I enter the living room again.

She startles but quickly rises to her feet. “Did you find out something about my sister?”

She glances at me and then behind me, where I sense Ms. Cynthia standing.

“Not yet. Let’s go.” I don’t wait for her to agree as I take her by the arm.

The confusion on her face eases when she looks back at Ms. Cynthia. I assume Ms. Cynthia told her something but I don’t intend to find out what.

It’s time to go.

CHAPTER 7

Emery

“You can trust him.”

Those were the last words Ms. Cynthia said to me as Chance practically pushed me out of the door of her house. I have no reason to believe her. I don’t even know the woman.

Yet, her comment calmed some of the restlessness inside of me. I can’t answer how or why. None of my questions about where or how to go about finding Ashley have been answered.

Something tells me, though, that if I’m going to get anywhere in my search, sticking close to Chance is my best option.

For now.

That doesn’t mean I’ll follow him blindly.

“We don’t have time to stop for lunch,” I tell Chance as he pulls into a small diner surrounded by forest on three sides.

I can’t imagine how anyone would even find this place if they didn’t know about it. The tiny parking lot only has two other cars parked in it. Yet, as I look into the diner’s windows, there are a number of customers seated in the booths and the counter.

Chance doesn’t answer me.

“Hey.” I tap his arm, making him look my way. “What are we doing here? I think we need to go to the police.”

“No police,” he says with a finality that rankles me.

“Why not? My sister is missing, and no one is helping me find her.”

I run my fingers across my forehead, but the tension doesn’t ease. All I can think of is how many days it’s been since I last heard from Ashley. More than a week. We’ve never gone this amount of time without speaking to one another.

I know something’s wrong.

When the tension in my forehead starts to form a dull ache, a large, calloused hand covers mine. I can’t help but notice the contrasting feel of Chance’s rough hands to Billy’s soft, manicured ones.

What strikes me the most is how right his skin feels against mine. The rough contours of his skin, somehow rub against that roughened, restless part of me that always feels as if it’s lurking just beneath the surface.

And…it softens.

The almost constant tense energy that moves through me, eases, even as I continue to worry about my sister’s whereabouts.

Abruptly, I pull away from his touch. I shake that thought—whatever it was loose. Now is not the time to get sidetracked.

Something flashes through Chance’s copper eyes but he quickly looks away. “We’re here for information,” he says, his voice sounding detached as he stares out of the windshield.

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