“We’ll be at the coffee shop tomorrow,” she told him on the phone two days later.
Grant hadn’t made any attempt to contact her. He needed this to be “her” idea. More importantly, he needed the time to get his shit together. He couldn’t afford to fuck this up because his libido was getting the best of him. There was a lot more at stake. Saul would have his corpse on a spit at the doors to the club if he made a stupid mistake.
“I will try to stop by,” he said, knowing he would be there because he needed to be, but he didn’t want her to think he was too eager.
“I hope you do. I’ve got to go,” she said, ending the call while he was still saying goodbye.
Ordinarily, he would think it rude, but he knew she was probably just trying to make the call without being heard and perhaps got interrupted or thought she might be at any moment. He was just glad that she wasn’t so timid that she was afraid to cross the big, bad Aspen Lowery. Obviously, she was an adult now, but in their circles, that didn’t mean you were free. Having him as a dirty little secret was a risk to the entire club and she would be careful, but hopefully not too careful. There was no such thing as truly being free if you were a part of a pack that was under threat.
No, the only way for her to truly be free was to walk away and that would most likely never happen. From the history he had dug up on her, she had nowhere else to go. She might be human and, unlike the other humans in the pack, no one’s mate - but they were the only family she had known for a long time. Without Aspen, her outcome might have been very different, and she wouldn’t forget that or do anything she thought might bring harm to the pack.
However, she was also a young woman coming into her own and that would be where she let her guard down. The attention of a handsome stranger was flattering, a little dangerous. By the time anyone knew his true motives, he would have what he needed and be safely back in his own pack.
The following day he made his way down to the coffee shop at the usual time and ordered coffee, along with a hearty breakfast. He’d been mostly eating oatmeal or cereal at the cabin and the fresh ham, eggs and toast was a welcome change. One of these days, he would have to learn to cook. He began reading a newspaper he had picked up on the way. Now, that he had been successful in attracting the attention he needed, there was no need to keep bringing the art books every time. Of course, it was a change that Amanda Lowery didn’t miss.
“No art history today?” she asked.
“Not today. Are you interested in art?” he asked, causing Elizabeth to smile sheepishly as she sat down at their usual table across the narrow aisle from him.
“I used to be. I’ve got a lot of other things on my plate right now, but maybe I’ll get back to it one day soon,” she said.
Grant couldn’t help but notice that Amanda said nothing about Elizabeth’s abilities. It was an obvious omission. She wouldn’t want to create a base for dialog between the two of them. Grant almost smiled at the thought of how protective she was of her daughter. It was nice to have someone look out for you. He had lost that a long time ago, had become a lone wolf in every sense of the word. He shut down any further thought on the matter. It didn’t serve him to go down memory lane or wax poetic about the family unit of the Lowerys.
“I’m sorry. I am holding you up. I will let you get back to it,” he said, returning to his paper as she sat down and the waitress came over to take their order.
The three of them sat there, the biker bouncer dogs standing watchfully outside the entrance to the shop. There was no further conversation between the three of them, but he caught Elizabeth glancing in his direction several times and looking bashfully away when she caught him returning her gaze. It was a coy little game that only furthered his cause, but he had to find a way to get closer to her and get inside the club a bit quicker. She was too tempting, and he needed to be making more progress before his next conversation with Saul, who would be chomping at the bit for more intel than what kind of coffee the Lowery women drank.
After a while, he paid his check and got up to leave. He winked at Elizabeth while Amanda was not paying attention and then said a polite goodbye to the both of them before making his exit past the neckless bastards lurking around the entrance. Back at home, he considered what he could do to speed up getting close to Elizabeth.
“Dumbass,” he muttered to himself as he reached for his phone.
Why hadn’t he thought of it before? He had never been much for texting. It was much nicer to hear a voice on the other end of the line and you weren’t sitting there waiting on a reply for hours when you had someone at your disposal during a call. Still, it was something common with most people and he was guessing that included Elizabeth Lowery. He slid his screen open and began typing a message.
“Is it okay to text?”
He lay the phone down and waited for a response, but didn’t have to wait long.
“Yes. I’m glad you did.”
“Oh, you are right there. I just wanted to tell you that you looked beautiful today at lunch.”
“Did I? I didn’t think you had noticed. Thank you.”
“Well, you know. I get the impression that you don’t want your mother or those goons that seem to follow you around to know you know me beyond casual coffee shop meetings.”
A few minutes passed before the next text came through. He could only assume she was interrupted by someone she didn’t want to see her texting.
“I’m sorry. It’s just best this way. We, um, well . . . I just have to be careful who I talk to. I can’t trust just anyone,” she finally replied.
“Do you trust me?”
“I think so. I mean, I still don’t know you very well, but you seem okay.”
“Just okay?” he asked, fishing.
“Maybe a bit more than okay.”
Grant could almost imagine her expression even from here. She would be smiling, those big blue eyes sparkling with mischief. Thoughts of holding her flooded his mind again and he decided not to push it any further.
“Glad to hear that. I’ve got work to do. Chat tomorrow?”
“Yes! Will text you when I’m alone.”
“Sounds good. Talk to you tomorrow then, Elizabeth.”
“Tomorrow . . .”
Grant lay the phone on the counter and made his way to the bedroom. He had lied about having work to do. The truth was that he hadn’t been sleeping well and had been going out for a run in the middle of the night for the last few days. It wasn’t exactly safe for him to shift and run here, but it helped him wind down and tire himself out, so he could get some sleep. Problem was that by the time he returned, showered and lay down again, it was time to get back up. Despite his adopted persona as an art collector, his actual work was far less glamorous.
The Dire Wolves paid him to do research. They kept tabs on far more than just the Silver Wolves and since he had joined them, he had become their point person for collecting the data they needed to keep their enemies in their place. His job was to act as a very low profile private investigator. The people he tailed would never see him or talk to him, but he was involved in all their personal business and kept immaculate records on each one of them. It could be exhausting, but missing even the smallest thing, in some cases, could create much bigger problems for the pack.
Today, though, it was going to have to be put on hold while he took a much-needed nap. He chuckled a bit at the idea that a tough alpha wolf needed to take an afternoon nap, but fuck, he was tired. His head had no more than hit the pillow when he dozed off into peaceful slumber.