Rescued by the Wolf Page 4

  Ronni, about ten years older than Grace, had strawberry-blond hair and eyes the exact color of Rafe’s cobalt blue.

  “Are you two related?” Grace blurted without thinking. “Sorry. I’ve met people all over the world. Until Rafe, I’d never met anyone with eyes his particular shade of blue. They’re quite striking and unforgettable.”

  Okay, she’d said way too much. She downed another mouthful of coffee before the lack of caffeine loosened her filter again.

  “Ronni’s my cousin,” Rafe said.

  “Nice to meet you.” Grace extended her hand.

  Ronni wiped her fingers on the half apron tied around her waist and accepted Grace’s handshake. The deep lines around the waitress’s eyes and mouth spoke of a hard life, or hard living. Either way, she wasn’t as happy as her generous smile intimated. “Same here.”

  “I don’t remember seeing you at Brice’s party.” It was at least nine months ago, but Grace never forgot a face.

  “Alex and I have only been here a few weeks. My husband passed and Rafe was kind enough to give us a place to live and a new start.”

  “I’m so sorry for your loss.” Grace’s heart constricted.

  “Thank you.” Ronni offered her a strained smile. “Haven’t seen you before, but I’m still getting to know everyone. Are you with the Co-op?”

  “No. Aren’t you?”

  “Not yet, but we’re working on it.” Ronni pulled a vinyl holder from her apron pocket and flipped it open.

  Grace pointed at the photo clipped inside. “Is that Alex?”

  “Yep.” Ronni grinned. “He’s a good kid. I couldn’t ask for one better.”

  Grace studied the photo of the tawny-haired teenager with a smile as broad as his mother’s. Unfortunately, he also had the same harsh lines etched into his young face. “Handsome boy.”

  “Smart, too. He’s my reason for living.” Ronni lovingly smoothed the frayed edges of the picture. “Now, what would you like to eat?”

  “Can I order the Belgian waffle even though it’s lunchtime?” Grace pointed at the item on the menu.

  “Breakfast is served all day.”

  “Great. I’ll have it with the strawberries and whipped cream, and chocolate syrup on the side—if you have any.”

  “Chocolate?” Ronni gave her an odd look.

  “I know it’s weird, but I didn’t get my daily dose last night.”

  “I’ll ask Al to find ya some. Anything else?”

  “Nope.”

  “You need something with protein,” Rafe said. “You already have the shakes.”

  “From lack of caffeine, but I’m catching up.” Grace took another gulp of coffee.

  Rafe shook his head.

  “Do you want the Co-op breakfast or lunch special?” Ronni asked him.

  “Breakfast.”

  “I’ll put a rush on your orders.”

  Rafe nodded and Ronni hurried to the kitchen.

  “Is Ronni dating someone?”

  “Not that I’m aware of.” Rafe gave her a funny frown. “She lost her husband only a few months ago. I don’t think she’s looking for a new one yet.”

  “Ronni said she wasn’t a member of the Walker’s Co-op yet.”

  “Walker’s Run Co-op,” Rafe said. “The land and neighboring areas associated with the Co-op are called Walker’s Run.”

  “Whatever it’s called, Cassie told me the only way to join the Co-op was by birth or marriage.” Grace finished her coffee, wishing she had turned over Rafe’s cup and had Ronni fill it, as well. “I wasn’t born here, so I thought I had to marry someone to become a member.”

  “Is that why you want to get to know me?”

  “What?” Grace’s cheeks heated. “No, not at all. I’ve been married and I don’t want to repeat that mistake.”

  An unplanned pregnancy. A quickie marriage that ended in an abrupt divorce after she lost the baby.

  Grace rubbed the small white infinity tattoo on her wrist.

  Rafe frowned. “You were married?”

  “Not relevant.” She really could use another cup of coffee. “You’re Brice’s friend. I’m Cassie’s friend. I thought it would be nice if you and I were friends. That’s all.”

  “I don’t want to be your friend, Grace.”

  She felt a stab of disappointment, same as before. “I appreciate your candor.” She didn’t really, but what else could she say?

  She heard the muffled sound of her brother’s ringtone. Out of habit, she checked her pockets even though she had none.

  Rafe pulled her phone from his pocket.

  “You’re a life saver.” She read the text messages. All was well and she sighed in relief. Grace replied she would call later.

  “My brother,” she said in response to Rafe’s curious gaze. “He checks in every few hours because I worry if I don’t hear from him.” This time she had worried him after not responding to his last two texts.

  “Why?”

  “Matt was paralyzed in an IED explosion last year. When he returned to the States, I left Seattle to help him through the extensive rehabilitation process. He’s fairly independent now. He’s even shopping around for a suitable car that can be equipped with hand controls.” She’d offered to put them in her Beetle and share the car with him, but the interior was really too small to accommodate him for an extended period.

  Besides, Matt was moving on with his life and didn’t need his big sister hanging around so much anymore.

  “Let me know the make and model he’s looking for. I know people who get cars at auction and I can install the controls for him.”

  “Here ya go.” Ronni slid Grace a plate with a large Belgian waffle topped with strawberries and whipped cream, with a small bowl of chocolate sauce on the side.

  She handed Rafe a glass of milk, a plate of scrambled eggs, grits, and two biscuits buried beneath creamy sausage gravy, a plate with a thick slice of country ham, four bacon strips, and two fat sausage links, and a plate of blueberry pancakes slathered with butter.

  “You’re going to eat all that?” Grace felt her arteries clog from sitting near all the saturated fats.

  “If he doesn’t, I’ll be surprised.” Ronni refilled Grace’s coffee mug.

  “You are a goddess.” Grace lifted the steaming cup to her face, inhaling the rich, robust aroma.

  “First time I’ve been called that. Thanks, hon.” Ronni looked at Rafe. “Holler if you need me.”

  After doctoring her coffee, Grace drizzled chocolate sauce over her waffle. “Must be nice to have cousins. My dad is an only child. My mom is a twin, but her sister died when they were three.” Grace took a bite of her waffle. The super sweetness made her empty stomach lurch.

  “Ronni and I met a few weeks ago. Until then, I didn’t know I had any blood relatives.” Rafe continued eating.

  “You took in total strangers?”

  “They’re family.”

  Rafe was turning out to be more complicated than the arrogant jerk she’d assumed him to be, which made her want to know him all the more. So what if he didn’t want to be actual friends? After last night, he was officially in the league of special acquaintances. She could work with that.

  Grace ate another bite of her waffle. Ordinarily, sweets didn’t bother her, but the chocolate sauce might’ve been overkill. She pushed her plate aside.

  Rafe lifted his gaze from her plate to her face. “Something wrong with the waffle?”

  “Too sweet.”

  “I told you to order something with protein.”

  Rafe dumped his breakfast meats onto the platter with his pancakes. Then he scooped a portion of his eggs and grits onto the emptied plate and added two strips of bacon and half of the slice of ham.

  “Eat. Every bite.” He pushed the newly prepared plate toward Grace and re
sumed eating the remainder of his breakfast.

  She shook her fork at him. “I don’t find bossy men appealing at all.” And if she wasn’t suddenly famished again and practically drooling, she would’ve pushed away the plate.

  “Is that so?” Rafe’s hands stilled, his chewing ground to a slow halt, and he swallowed. He gave her a long, leisurely look.

  Her skin warmed. “Yes.”

  “I am what I am, sweetheart. And you do find me appealing.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  He brandished a cocky little smile and his eyebrows twitched.

  Heat flashed through Grace’s body. In defiance, she casually crossed her legs. Men relegated to the league of special acquaintances were not supposed to get her hot and bothered. Maybe she needed to rethink his classification.

  Chapter 6

  Rafe sped toward the Walker’s Run Resort. He’d gladly pay any fine as long as he delivered Grace before he did something stupid.

  The conglomeration of smells in the diner had masked her true scent, giving him a chance to breathe and relax.

  Closed inside the tow truck, though, her soft, feminine musk engulfed his senses. His skin prickled with awareness and his thoughts turned to long, luscious kisses and dangerously indulgent caresses.

  He lowered the windows, hoping the rush of cool air would clear his head. A slight shiver shook Grace’s shoulders but she didn’t complain. Humming softly to herself, she continued staring out the window.

  Hands clamped on the steering wheel, he steeled himself against the urge to pull off the road, haul her against him and warm her with his heat while his hands roamed her curves, preferably while they were both naked.

  She’d slept in his bed, worn his clothes and shared his food. To a Wahyan male, she was practically his.

  Only she wasn’t. She couldn’t be.

  He was merely horny.

  Ever since his mate died, he’d been celibate.

  Moon-fucks didn’t count. Wahyas needed sex during the full moon to keep their hormones in balance.

  Out of necessity, he and Loretta Presley, a widow with three kids, had become exclusive moon-fuck partners. Their encounters were always in wolf form and they avoided each other socially, as agreed, to ensure no emotional entanglements.

  Almost two weeks past the last full moon, Rafe shouldn’t feel the urge for sex. Yet Grace’s scent bombarded him with such tantalizing force he could think of little else.

  Different from the animalistic drive the full moon unleashed, the pull toward Grace was tangled in pure, unadulterated desire.

  He punched the buttons on the console to turn on the heater and sliced the vents to blow in her direction. A blast of heat blew back the loose strands of her hair, revealing the discolored Ping-Pong-ball-sized lump at her temple.

  She gave him a side glance, then adjusted the vent so that the warm air hit her arms.

  His stiffly curled fingers made it difficult to turn the wheel. The sooner he and Grace parted company, the better off he’d be. The last thing he wanted was her scent mucking up his life.

  He parked in front of the Walker’s Run Resort and hopped out of the vehicle. A pack sentinel, working as a valet, reached for the passenger door. An instinctual warning growl rolled from Rafe’s throat. The barely twenty-something wolfan backed away.

  Grace’s warm fingers clutched Rafe’s outstretched hand as she stepped down from the vehicle. The energy sparked from the touch buzzed up his arm, down his spine and spread into every nerve.

  It wasn’t the kind of electrical surge that could drop a man to the ground in convulsions. This was a gentle quiver of warmth, the kind that slowly saturated the skin, seeped into every cell, thawed the deepest, darkest, most frozen places within and, therefore, was the most dangerous vibration of all.

  Fidgeting with the bag slung across her body, Grace strolled past the valet. “Hi, Jimmy. No more drive-through runs for me. The Beetle is out of commission for a while.”

  “Anytime you want something, give me a holler. Twenty-four seven. I’ll be at your beck and call.” Jimmy grinned with far too much interest.

  Rafe Gibbs-smacked him as he passed. “Not necessary or recommended.”

  As his and Grace’s steps synchronized, Rafe’s hand gravitated to her lower back as if touching her was as natural as breathing.

  The scent of cinnamon and cloves greeted them inside the resort. A few people with luggage in tow stood at the guest services counter. An older man lounged in a seating area reading the paper. The amicable chatter from the dining room didn’t mask the subtle hum of the descending elevator.

  The doors parted with a swish.

  “Grace!” Cassie Walker, a petite, abundantly pregnant woman with curly red hair, stepped out. “I’ve been looking for you. Where have you been?”

  Her gaze traveled up and down Grace and cut to him. “Rafe? Why is she wearing pajama pants and your shirt?”

  “Long story,” Grace said. “Before I begin, trust me when I say I’m okay.”

  “Why doesn’t that make me feel better?” Cassie’s brow creased.

  “Doc said Grace needs to rest. Would you make sure she gets it?”

  “Doc?” Cassie’s eyes widened. “What happened?”

  “A small fender bender, nothing serious.” Grace’s gaze lingered on Rafe and he suddenly didn’t want to leave.

  “Call me if you need anything. My number is in your phone.” An impulsive act last night that might bite him in the ass sooner rather than later.

  Walking away, he consciously forced his muscles to relax instead of conspiring against him to make him look over his shoulder.

  “Rafe, wait!”

  Not the voice he would’ve expected.

  He turned and waited for Cassie to catch up.

  “What’s up, Red?”

  “I won’t ask about what happened between you and Grace last night. She’ll tell me all about it.”

  Rafe hoped she wouldn’t mention his state of undress. The fewer who knew that tidbit, the better. It was bad enough Tristan Durrance, the responding sheriff deputy, and a pack sentinel, had arrived before Doc got there with an old pair of sweats for Rafe to wear. He expected it would be a long time before Tristan would let him forget getting caught bare-ass by a human female.

  “I hope you used the opportunity to get to know her a little better,” Cassie continued. “Grace is like a sister to me and she’s become an important part of mine and Brice’s lives. Just as you are.”

  “What are you getting at, Red?”

  Laughter rose above the soft chatter of guests in the lobby. Rafe’s gaze slid to Grace, directing a family into silly poses as she took their picture next to an indoor totem pole with several wolf heads carved into the wood.

  “It’s okay to let people into your life again,” Cassie said. “People like Grace. She’s fun, and kind, and never meets a stranger.”

  “I’m managing fine with the way things are.”

  “Managing isn’t the same as living.” She touched his arm. “Trust me, I know.”

  * * *

  “Here you go, little mama.” Grinning, Grace held out a cup of hot tea she’d made in the microwave. Her posh suite at the Walker’s Run Resort was nothing short of a small apartment equipped with a kitchenette, a cozy living room, and a luxury bedroom with a balcony view of the forested mountainside. All compliments of Cassie’s in-laws, Gavin and Abigail Walker, the resort’s owners.

  “Thank you.” Cassie, her best childhood friend, accepted the drink. They’d reconnected through social media after Cassie had married.

  The internet was Grace’s lifeline. Not only was the internet vital to her web design business, it helped her stay connected with friends all over the world. She needed it as much as she needed coffee.

  But, moving to Knoxville last year to help h
er brother had put Grace within driving distance of Cassie. She and Brice had visited while Matt was at the rehabilitation center. After Matt’s discharge, and once he was comfortable staying a few days by himself, Grace had accepted Cassie’s father-in-law’s open invitation to stay at the resort.

  Since Cassie had no family after her mom’s passing, Gavin said Cassie needed a “sister.”

  How could Grace say no?

  Now she had her own room—dubbed the Grace Olsen Suite, available anytime she visited.

  “Want anything else?”

  “I’m good.” Cassie tucked a loose red ringlet behind her ear. “I hate that you’re doting on me. You have a concussion.”

  “It’s only a bump and I have a hard head.” Grace sat on the couch, drawing her bare feet beneath her.

  “I can’t believe you saw Rafe naked.” Cassie stretched her legs and propped her tiny, swollen feet on the coffee table. “Funny, Brice was naked when we met, too.”

  Cassie rubbed her pregnant belly. “See where that led me?”

  “Don’t jinx me. I will adore the little girl right there,” she pointed at Cassie’s belly, “but I don’t do serious relationships and I don’t want to be a single mom.” Grace had seen how hard it was on her mother, single parenting every time her father was deployed.

  “I never planned on this, either. Yet here I am and I couldn’t be happier.”

  “It’s different for you. You’re planted here.” Grace fluffed her pillow. “I’ve never lived in a place longer than a few years.”

  Cassie sipped her tea. “Maico was no different from any other of the half-dozen towns my mom dragged me to. I expected we’d be here for eighteen months tops before we moved on. Then, she died, I had nowhere to go and Maico became home.”

  “Because you got stuck here. Once Matt gets on his feet again—figuratively speaking, I’ll be free to live anywhere.”

  “What about here? Maico is a great place.” A hopeful smile lit Cassie’s face, just like the one she’d given Grace when they were seven and Cassie had asked her to be friends. “Give it a chance to become your home, too.”