Page 24 of Falling for My Shifter Defender

Progress. Slow, but steady.

My wolf rumbles with satisfaction. He's been invested in Grace's comfort level around us, tracking her tiny concessions like precious territory gained.

"What about a lunchbox?" I ask, pointing toward another aisle. "Every kid needs a good lunchbox."

Willow's eyes widen with excitement, and she practically skips toward the display of colorful lunch containers. Grace follows, consulting her list again with a slight furrow between her brows.

I notice the way she lingers over the prices, mentally calculating. Her shoulders tense slightly when she sees the cost of the backpack Willow is admiring. It's purple with silver stars and a reinforced bottom—good quality, but not cheap.

"We should probably look at the other options," she says gently to Willow.

Before I can stop myself, I reach for the backpack. "This one seems sturdy. It'll last the whole year."

Grace gives me a look—part warning, part resignation. "Eli..."

"Let me get this for her," I say quietly, making sure Willow is distracted by the lunch boxes. "First day of school is special."

"I can't keep letting you pay for things," she whispers, her voice tight. "I need to do this myself."

I study her face, seeing the pride there, the fierce independence that's kept her and Willow going all this time. It's not about the money—it's about proving to herself that she can provide, that she doesn't need anyone else.

My wolf growls in frustration. He doesn't understand her hesitation to accept what we offer. To him, providing is instinct.

"How about this," I suggest, keeping my tone casual. "I'll cover everything today, and you can pay me back after your first paycheck from Theo. No interest, no timeline."

She narrows her eyes, clearly suspicious of my easy capitulation. "You're not going to argue with me about it?"

I shrug. "Would it help if I did?"

A reluctant smile tugs at her lips. "No."

"Then what's the point?" I grin, and her smile widens just a fraction before she schools her expression.

"Fine. But I'm keeping track of every penny."

"I'd expect nothing less."

Willow bounces back over, clutching a holographic lunch box. "This one changes colors when you move it! Can I get it? Please?"

Grace hesitates, and I can see her doing the mental math again. Before she can answer, I grab the lunch box and add it to our growing pile.

"Excellent choice," I tell Willow. "Very practical."

Grace rolls her eyes at me, but there's no real irritation there. Just resignation tinged with something that might, if I'm lucky, be affection.

As she turns to help Willow find pencils, I catch a hint of her scent—warm vanilla with something uniquely her, like wildflowers after rain. My wolf inhales deeply, committing it to memory. There's something about her scent that feels like home, though I'm not ready to examine why too closely.

???

An hour later, we've hit three stores and accumulated a small mountain of supplies. The truck is loaded with bags, and Willow is proudly wearing her new purple backpack, even though it's empty.

"Can we go to one more store?" Willow asks as we're walking down Main Street. "I need clothes too."

Grace checks her watch. "We should have time for one more stop."

I lead them to Pines & Needles, a small boutique owned by a fox shifter named Marlene. The bell chimes as we enter, and Marlene looks up from behind the counter.

"Eli Greystone," she says warmly. "Haven't seen you in here before. Finally decided to upgrade your wardrobe?"

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