Page 9 of To Challenge a Wolf

She studied him a moment, as though he’d given something away. Which he hadn’t. Then she sighed. “One conversation. I want one real conversation with you. Tell me about your life. Tell me how you’ve really been, the things I’d know if we’d never lost each other.”

“And then you’ll go.”

“Why do you keep insisting on that?”

“You came to apologize, and you gave your apology.”

She looked about to pull her hair out. Then she gave a longsuffering sigh. “I’ve had my coffee for the day. Where else could we go?”

Town hangouts weren’t really his thing. The evening was nice, but the sun would be down in less than two hours. Which was fine. They’d be finished well before then. He gestured to thepicnic bench. Vivian blinked in affront, then perched on one side, and Rhett sat across from her. She ran a hand under her backside as though to smooth her skirt despite the rough wood, then settled on the bench again.

“Guess traveling in a skirt and heels is on me,” she said with a little smirk.

“Low heels for you.”

“Traveling heels.” The smirk grew.

He’d noticed her shoes. He gritted his teeth and held in a growl. Had to stop noticing her. Had to stop enjoying the essence of black tea, currently hyped up on what was likely one cup of coffee. For ten years, he’d believed he would never lay eyes on her again, never breathe her scent again. He’d believed it yesterday. He’d believed it this morning.

He hated being wrong.

Three

He was going to make her work for every detail. Vivian knew it before she asked her first question. It was in every line of his strong frame, every tick of his jaw (a tell he didn’t know he had—three so far tonight), and every near-growl that began and died in his throat (three of those so far too). She’d expected plenty of sarcasm and awkwardness while they got to know each other again. But she’d also expected gladness. Due to her upbringing, she didn’t use her real name on social media. She’d known Rhett would never be able to find her.

Clearly he’d never even looked.

He held himself as though he were assessing potential active threats. His vigilance couldn’t be due to their surroundings, sitting within shouting distance of the slide and monkey bars. She could only concludeshewas the reason. He saw her as a threat.

To what, for fate’s sake? To himself? To his pack? How on earth could she—?

Oh.Oh.

“Rhett,” she said.

He nodded, ago aheadsort of motion. Ask her questions, let him get on with his evening.

Well, forget that. “You think I’m in contact with Stone.”

His jaw didn’t tick. His throat didn’t strangle a growl. Instead his blue-gray eyes widened for a fraction of a second. “No.”

“You’re acting like we might be attacked right here in the park. That has to be why. You actually think I would lead him to you after what he did.”

“No.”

“And Idoknow what he did,” she said, leaning across the table toward him and trying not to let the rough wood snag her blouse. “I figured it out for myself. You weren’t in training with his wolves so you could grow up and join the family’s military legacy. You were being trained to take over. For Walter.”

Rhett grabbed onto the edge of the picnic table, and a chunk of wood broke off in his hand. While children yelped and cheered in the distance and moms began calling time to go home, Rhett and Vivian stared at the jagged table edge that looked like the bite mark of a small dinosaur.

“Rhett?”

He lifted his eyes to hers, and the hint of blue had washed out of them. Now they held only gray thunderstorms.

“I’m right,” she said. Her best guess over the years, unconfirmed of course, had been right.

“And you think you know what Walter did for him,” Rhett said. His tone was low but matter-of-fact. No tells now. A soldier delivering a report.

“I think so.”

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