Page 301 of Warlords, Witches & Wolves

Did I? Not usually, but with Noah, maybe I did just a little. But talking about it and letting him in, created complications I wasn’t ready for and attachments that wouldn’t last.

Attachments never lasted.

He lowered his arm. Instead of pulling back, he took my hand in his, giving it a light squeeze. “You don’t need to. I get it. It’s much easier solving problems over bourbon.”

This guy could read me like a book and we’d only just met.

I peered at the envelope I’d tossed on the truck floor. “Things haven’t exactly gone to plan, that’s all. I’ll be fine.”

His eyes narrowed, studying me. The intensity of his stare burned through layers of flesh and bone right to the heart of my soul. I swallowed, composing myself. “Really. I’m sorry about that. I don’t know what came over me.”

“Stop apologizing.”

As the rush of my tears and emotions slipped back into their perfectly crafted box, another sensation bloomed inside my chest. Heat from Noah’s hand cradling mine spread through my veins, awakening my senses. I inhaled his wild, earthy cologne and calmness washed over me all the way from my muddy shoes to my fingertips and back again.

In the dim light of the truck, his eyes drew me in until I forgot why I cried in the first place. I could easily lose myself in those eyes and that scared me more than anything else.

“Do you have somewhere to stay?”

“Ah…yeah.”

Noah cleared his throat and slipped his hand from mine, snapping me from the trance.

“How about I drop you off and you can pick up your car tomorrow? It’ll be safe at the bar.”

“That’d be great.”

Noah started the engine and pulled out onto the road. “Where to?”

“I’m staying at my grandmother’s house. Um…” I grabbed the envelope at my feet and checked the will. “There’s no address. It just says the Whitcome property on Cobalt Lane.”

The truck jerked toward the curb, then righted again. “You’re Joan Whitcome’s granddaughter?”

“Yeah. Did you know my grandmother?”

Noah’s grip tightened on the steering wheel, so slight that if I hadn’t already been looking at him, I would’ve missed it.

“Something like that,” he muttered.

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