Page 42 of The Wolf's Plus-Size Bride

“Call me later and let me know how it goes.”

“I will.”

I disconnect the call and take a deep breath. I’m still mad, but I’m not sure if I’m angrier at Reiner or myself. I’m not sure why I’m even surprised. Of course he’d rather be at the shop than stuck at the house with me.

When I pull into the shop’s parking lot, the first thing I notice is Reiner’s truck. I park next to it and climb out, making my way inside the building. I’ve never even been to this part of town, let alone been in this shop.

I pause in the doorway and look around. Massive sheets of metal are piled up along the wall, and a huge machine is taking up the far side of the room. There’s a small office in the corner, and about a dozen men are milling about, some talking, some working. The stench of burning metal and grease hangs in the air, and I wrinkle my nose.

“Can I help you?” someone asks, and I turn to see a man approaching. He’s tall with broad shoulders and a stocky build. He has dark hair and a beard, and his eyes are a piercing blue.

“I’m looking for Reiner,” I explain.

“Over there,” the man says, pointing to the back of the room.

I follow his finger and see Reiner bent over a table, his back to me. He has a welding torch in his hand, and a pair of thick, protective glasses cover his eyes. Blue sparks fly, and he’s focused on whatever he’s doing.

I have to admit, it’s kind of hot. Sweat is dripping down his back, and his muscles are tense. His jeans are hugging his ass, and he has a black bandana tied around his head.

“Thank you,” I say, and the guy nods, walking away.

I approach Reiner, and he doesn’t even look up. I’m not sure if he can’t hear me over the noise or if he’s ignoring me. Either way, it pisses me off.

I walk up behind him and lean closer, yelling in his ear. “What the hell are you doing?”

He jerks, startled, and the torch slips, nearly setting his pants on fire. He curses and shuts it off, then turns and glares at me.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he snaps.

“I could ask you the same thing,” I shoot back.

“I’m fucking working,” he growls. “What does it look like?”

“It looks like you’re being an idiot,” I retort.

He looks around, no doubt checking to see who’s listening. I don’t care, let them hear. But he doesn’t sound so keen on the idea of his coworkers witnessing our fight.

“Let’s take this outside,” he says, grabbing my arm and dragging me out the door.

“Get your hands off me,” I hiss, ripping my arm from his grasp.

“You’re the one who came barging into my place of business and started yelling at me,” he counters. “If you wanted to talk, you should’ve called.”

“I did,” I say. “Three times. You ignored me. And I know you spoke with Rafe after I called, which means you saw my calls and chose to ignore them.”

“I was busy,” he says, and his tone is dismissive. He stops right in front of his truck and crosses his arms as he leans against the hood.

“You’re supposed to be resting,” I point out. “Clara said—”

“I don’t give a shit what Clara said,” he interrupts. “I’m not a child, Jane. I know my own body, and I know what I can and can’t do. Besides, I couldn’t take one more second sitting in that house with you acting like I have some contagious disease. You’ve been ignoring me, Jane. And don’t you dare try and tell me it’s in my head, because we both know that’s bullshit.”

“I’m not ignoring you,” I say, but the lie sounds hollow even to my own ears.

“Bullshit,” he repeats, and I flinch. “You’re a terrible liar, Jane. Why have you been avoiding me? And don’t tell me it’s because you’re busy or you’re tired. I want the truth.”

I open my mouth to reply, but nothing comes out. I’m not sure what to say.

“That’s what I thought,” he mutters, shaking his head.

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