Page 48 of Flare
That asshole, Ward thought.“Violet’s going to be there, too?”
Violet Tringstad was a wolf shifter and a member of the Jacobsen Pack. She’d been working at Cinnamon + Sugar for several years now.
Emily gave a short huff of laughter.“Don’t tell me she’s a shifter, too!”
Ward hesitated.“We’re not supposed to out each other to Ordinary humans, but I don’t think she’ll mind you knowing, since you’re already in on Maggie’s secret. She’s a wolf shifter, like Malia.”
“That makes me feel better. Thank you,” she said again, her gaze meeting his briefly before dropping away.“For everything. I don’t know what I would have done if—”
“Hey,” Ward interrupted gently,“don’t worry about that jerk. You’re safe here, Emily. I promise.”
Her smile made the prospect of a sleepless night ahead worthwhile.“Goodnight, Ward. You’re the best.”
“Goodnight, Emily. Sleep well.”
Ward rose from the table after she left the dining room. He packed up the half-eaten pizza and salad and took them into the kitchen while listening to the soft sounds of Emily brushing her teeth and moving around the guest room.
Like most of the other rooms in his house, his kitchen was a work in progress. He had a new dishwasher and refrigerator but only half the custom cabinets installed. A rolling wire-shelf rack along one wall held pots and pans, stacks of clean dishes, and small appliances. His coffee maker and toaster sat on a temporary plywood countertop.
Ward went to the coffeemaker and set it up to brew an extra-strong pot. He didn’t plan on sleeping tonight—not with Andrew Brunborn somewhere out there, angry as hell and searching for his runaway mate.
As the coffee brewed, Ward leaned against the counter, the events of the evening replaying in his mind.
How dare Andrew threaten Emily? And worse, do so on Swanson territory, where she should have been safe! His inner bear had been outraged at the violation, and at the fear he’d seen in Emily’s eyes.
Ward wished he’d caught Andrew in the act.
Instead, all he could do now was stand guard over her, protecting her from the shifter who should have loved and cherished her above all others.
When the coffee machine chirped at him, he poured himself a mug of the steaming brew and carried it to the living room, settling into the armchair with a clear view of both the front door and the windows to the backyard.
His bear was restless beneath his skin, wanting to patrol the perimeter for threats. Ward took a deep breath, reminding himself that shifting now would only frighten Emily if she left her bedroom.
Ward hoped she’d get some rest before tomorrow.
Under different circumstances, the festival might have been the perfect backdrop for their second date.
Now, he’d be spending the day worrying about Emily, even with Maggie and Violet there to watch out for her.
Chapter 13
Sleepless
Emily stared up at the unfamiliar ceiling as moonlight filtered through the curtains. Ward’s guest room bed was comfortable, and she felt beyond exhausted after everything that had happened today, but sleep refused to come.
Every time she dozed off, the sounds of the old house settling would jolt her awake, heart racing.
Midnight came and went. Emily rolled onto her side, trying to find a comfortable position, but her mind wouldn’t stop replaying the horrible scenes from the cabin.
The way Andrew had savaged the place… he must’ve rampaged through it in his bear shape. She shuddered as she remembered seeing him shift in his living room on her last day in Spokane.
Ward. The thought of him brought a small smile to her lips, despite everything.
She was grateful beyond words for his offer of shelter tonight. He hadn’t hesitated, hadn’t asked awkward questions or made her feel like a burden. He had simply taken her in, given her space, and made her feel protected without smothering her.
What kind of person did that for someone he barely knew? The kind of person who built things with his hands, who restoredold houses and crafted beautiful furniture, who volunteered as a firefighter and lived in a home that was a work in progress, messy but comfortable.
The kind of man who was nothing like Andrew.
