Page 69 of Wolf's Providence

“She gets hurt on your watch, I’m taking it out on your hide.”

“Stop flirting with me, man. I told you before, your dick’s too small to satisfy me.”

I huffed out a laugh as he stepped back. “Good to know you’re still an ass,” I said grudgingly.

I felt better though. Knowing Eamon was watching Willow’s back meant I could focus on what I needed to do.

Now, all that was left was to see who it was that I was baiting.

TWENTY-ONE

Willow

The next fewdays were unremarkable, which somehow made the tension worse. Caleb had told me to act like everything was normal, but it was hard to relax when I knew I was being watched. Each casual step I took through town felt unnatural and overexaggerated, like I was putting myself on display, walking through a minefield of unknown dangers.

I’d made my way to the gallery, pretending to be as unaware as I could. Stopping to chat with those I knew, just like I would if I didn’t have eyes on me from unknown sources. When I finally turned onto Main Street, nerves made me duck into the bakery so I could feel like I could breathe.

I ordered my usual coffee and added a cruller, which I usually avoided, but I needed the sugar rush this morning.

“You suck at acting natural,” a guy behind me said under his breath. “May as well paint a sign on you that says ‘I know you’re watching.’” I went to turn around, but he stopped me, his hand on my arm causing me to flinch. “Don’t turn, sweetheart. Don’t need the sign to be flashing neon.”

“Who are you?” My heart was racing. I desperately wanted to turn around and confront him.

“Caleb’s still keeping secrets,” he said with a grunt. “Typical.” He moved away. I knew he had as I no longer felt the heat from his body. “Do me a favor, sweetheart. Get your breakfast, keep your head down, cross the road, get into the gallery, get a brown paper bag, lock yourself in the bathroom, and breathe.”

“I’m notthatbad,” I muttered, pretending to look at my nails.

“You’re right,” he agreed. “You’re worse.”

Asshole.

“Hey, Willow, haven’t seen you in a while.” The server started talking to me, and I moved away from my newfriend.

With my coffee and breakfast in hand, I looked at the stranger as I left the store, meeting his knowing gaze, seeing the smirk as our eyes met. He dipped his head slightly before I turned away and crossed the road. Balancing my breakfast, I opened the art gallery. After the encounter with Caleb’s…“friend,” I hated the fact I’d given Lorna the morning off. I wanted someone I knew beside me. But then that meant I was putting Lorna in danger, and I wouldn’t do that.

Instead, I hastily drew his profile so I could show it to Caleb later. Then I spent my morning finishing inventory and fielding some calls from past customers who had bought one of my pieces and now had someone reaching out to them, making inquiries to buy them for more than they were worth.

I knew it was Cannon and his pack, but still, in another world, in another lifetime, it would be kind of nice to have a conversation with customers who believed your work was worth more than they paid.

Lorna came in around one. The bag with her held mouthwatering aromas, and I helped her unpack and then ate a hot lunch while she asked me a thousand questions about my relationship with Caleb.

Noel had inadvertently been the alibi Caleb had pounced on to leave town. Noel was short a pair of hands for laboring a big job a couple of hours away. Both Lorna and I were alone while our “men-folk” worked out of town.

I wasn’t sure how Caleb was explaining not turning up to Noel. He couldn’t be close to me and two hours away at the same time. It just added to my anxiety.

After lunch, I found myself relaxing in Lorna’s familiar chatter.

“Noel says Caleb doesn’t talk a lot,” she said with a sidelong glance at me. “Does he say much to you?”

“Who, Caleb?” I asked her, looking up from my sketchbook. “Yeah, we speak.”

“He seems so…stoic.”

Putting my pencil down, I gave her my full attention. “He talks when it matters,” I told her, fighting the blush in my cheeks as I suddenly remembered exactly how vocal my man could be when he was ordering me around in the bedroom.

Lorna gave me a knowing look. “Uh-huh, just make sure he keeps talking when the honeymoon period is over.” She tsked softly. “Young love’s all well and good, but if there’s no conversation, then what’s left when the honeymoon is over?”

“Um…” My mind had snagged on the wordhoneymoon, and I was completely unstuck.

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