Page 73 of Alpha Rising (Secrets of the Northland Shifters)

“Got a second?” she asked.

“Of course.” I moved some of the needlepoint pillows off my small couch so we could both sit. We turned toward each other with our knees touching. Lauren chewed nervously on the inside of her cheek.

“Relax,” I told her.

She grabbed my hands. “I’m just so sorry for being rude to you the other night. I know you were only trying to help.”

I shook my head. “You were entitled to feel however you felt. I’m sorry too. I should have just picked you up and brought you home.”

She released my hands. “If anything had happened to you. If you’d gotten hurt…”

“Yeah, well, Reese has already chewed me out about that. Trust me, I won’t be making that mistake again.”

“Neither will I,” she said, and there were tears in her eyes.

“Lauren, whatever happened…it wasn’t your fault.”

She made a face that suggested she didn’t believe me.

“It wasn’t your fault,” I insisted. “That man hurt you. You didn’t ask for that.”

“I should have never gone to his house.”

“He gave you reason to trust him, and he betrayed that trust.”

She looked down at her lap. “Abby thinks I should file a police report.”

I agreed, but it was up to her. “I’ll go with you if you decide to do that.”

Lauren looked up, seemingly surprised by my comment. “Aren’t you afraid he’ll turn around and file his own complaint? Didn’t you, like, commit breaking and entering?”

“Yes.” I expelled an unconcerned blast of air through my nose. “And probably assault with a deadly weapon too. But I’ve got friends in law enforcement. I’ll be fine.”

Lauren raised her eyebrows, silently asking me to elaborate, but that was one explanation she wasn’t going to get.

When I didn’t say anything more, she sighed and stood up. “I’ll think about making a report.”

I stood with her, and she gave me a hug. “I just wanted to apologize and thank you for coming to get me.”

“I was glad to do it.”

Seconds after Lauren left, my phone rang. Speak of the devil (and friends in law enforcement), it was John Riordan, probably calling with this morning’s ETA for picking me up to bring me to the government safe house.

I took a deep breath, and headed for the front door. If we were heading into round two of yesterday’s safe-house argument, I was going to need some fresh air. “Good morning, John.”

“I’ve got news.”

I stepped out of the lodge and crossed the wide front porch, taking a seat on the top step. “John, I—”

“No, listen.” John talked fast—his voice agitated—and while I heard every word, most of my attention was captured by the missing Jeep now back in its parking spot.

The driver’s side door opened and Reese stepped out. His large, muscular body was tense, his hands flexed, and his clothes were rumpled.

He took two steps toward the lodge, then startled to a stop when he saw me sitting there.

Neither of us spoke.

His gaze slid to the phone at my ear. A muscle jumped in his jaw before his eyes returned to mine.

---