Page 68 of Moonlit Nights & Northern Lights
“Didn’t know you had it in you, Detective,” I said, trying to sound casual while my heart stumbled over itself.
Maxwell’s face settled back into its familiar stern lines, dimples vanishing like they’d never existed. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Thorne.” He picked up his bag and headed toward the cottage door. “Let’s get inside and make a game plan for this dinner. You can start filling me in on the pack.”
As I watched Maxwell unlock the cottage door, the reality of where we were—who we’d be facing in just a few hours—should have sent me spiralling into panic. But instead, a strange calm had settled over me.
It took me a moment to recognize it. Maxwell wasn’t just tolerating this mission or doing his job. He was committing fully, putting himself between me and my family.
He was on my side.
Suitcase in hand, I followed him inside, my fingers absently tracing the spot on my forehead where his hand had brushed. The warmth of his touch lingered there like a shield.
The apprehension was still present—a low hum beneath my skin at the thought of facing my mother, the pack that had beaten me down and ultimately rejected me. But it was different now. Manageable. I wasn’t walking into the lion’s den alone.
“You were really good at that,” I said suddenly.
Maxwell paused his inspection of the cottage’s spacious reception. “Good at what?”
“The boyfriend act. You really sold it.” I aimed for casual, but my voice came out oddly sincere.
He shrugged, not quite meeting my eyes. “Just doing my job.”
“Well, you’re good at your job, then. And… thanks. For being here.”
Maxwell stilled, then gave a short nod. “We’re partners on this. I’ve got your back, Thorne.”
Partners. The word settled something inside me, unexpected and warm. Like finding solid ground after an eternity of treading water in the dark.
He shot me a piercing look through his glasses. “Just stop calling me Detective Dickface and we can call it even.”
My face split into a grin. I looked directly at him, broadcasting loudly…What about in my ownhead?
“No.”
Aww, but you love it, though.
“I really, really don’t.”
“Alright then, Teddy Bear,” I said, blowing him a kiss before dashing past him to the stairs, not looking behind to see his reaction. Because I wanted to imagine a smile dancing across his lips.
11
Theodore
Kit
Have you arrived? Rory isn’t answering his messages.
His phone is perpetually dead, so that could be why. Yes, we arrived an hour ago. We haven’t seen the bulk of your family yet - that pleasure is tonight.
Three dots swirl, then stop. Swirl, then stop.
Finally:
I’m eternally in your debt for going with him. I can’t tell you how much of a coward I feel.
No sweat. I’m enjoying the fresh country air.
Keep a close eye on him for me. I’m worried about how he’s going to react, being back up there.
