Page 18 of Way of the Wolf

“That’s my car.” Bolin leaned out of the apartment to look at us.

Duncan eyed him, all twenty-two years of him. “You buy Bitcoin when it was cheap or something?”

“No, my parents bought rental properties when they were cheap.” Bolin waved at the complex.

“Ah, so you’re privileged and spoiled?”

“I…” Bolin glanced at me, as if I might prove his defender. “I admit to enjoying privilege. Thanks for keeping those bikers from vandalizing my car yesterday.”

“I do try to help people.” Duncan bowed to him, then focused on me. “Might we talk privately, my lady?”

“You’re not going to ask me on another date, are you?”

“That’s not why I came, no, but I did find last night quite stimulating and invigorating.”

Bolin made a face and squeezed past Duncan, hurrying toward the leasing office.

“I’ll go start that research,” he called back.

“Research?” Duncan asked curiously.

“We have a mold colonization.”

Duncan sniffed toward the doorway. “Ah. Quite.”

“Thanks again for your help yesterday,” I made myself say, though my mistrust for him made the words come out grudgingly, “but what do you want? I’m not looking to stimulate or invigorate you again.” Once more, I glanced toward the woods, hoping that would prove true.

“You asked about potion suppliers.”

I grew less grudging and more hopeful. “Yes, I did.”

“One of my contacts got back to me about a promising local person. She doesn’t know the alchemist’s phone number, but she did share an address, so we can go visit. Or you can if you don’t want to spend more time with me. I’ll allow that’s a possibility, however puzzling I find it.”

“I haven’t figured out whyyouwant to spend time withme.” I looked frankly at him.

Without hesitation, he said, “Because of your conveniently placed parking lot adjacent to those enticing woodlands.”

“Uh-huh. I’m sure the greenbelt next to the freeway is a treasure trove waiting to be pillaged.”

“It’s not without merit. And the view isn’t bad either.” He smiled, then gave me a deeper bow.

“I turn forty-six this winter, I’m not wearing any makeup, and nothing in my wardrobe is sexy.” I plucked at the men’s Henley that I usually threw on anytime I expected to end up under sinks or in crawlspaces. “I’m not sure I even rubbed on my wrinkle cream this morning.”

Okay, I didn’t have any legitimatewrinklesyet, but the creases in my forehead had grown more noticeable of late. For the first time in my life, I was contemplating bangs. I’dalreadyhad to dye my hair, thanks to the insidious grays that had appeared at my hairline.

“And yet your radiant beauty is like that of the sun, a sizzlingly appealing beacon that must continue to draw men of all ages.”

“Say more crap like that, and I’ll renew my threats to have you towed.”

“You’re a hard woman to woo.”

“Because I don’twantto be wooed. The last time I let that happen, I ended up with two kids. Two kids who are nowadults, I’ll point out.”

Technically, Austin was only eighteen and had the maturity of a labradoodle, but I trusted the Air Force would turn him adultish before long. If nothing else, he would have to learn to do his own laundry.

“Growing old is to be cherished. Not everyone gets to do it. I recently turned fifty and am often befuddled that I’ve managed to live long enough to gain silver streaks in my pelt.” He pushed a hand through his salt-and-pepper locks.

“Silver? You’re not a precious metal. Those are patches of gray.”

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