Wild Wolf

“Tell her thank you,” Misty said.

“I will.” Kevin gave her another smile. He was cute, really. A normal guy. “You start your cleanup,” Kevin said. “I can recommend a service to help you, if you want.”

“I’ll let you know. Thanks for coming.”

Kevin gave her a final smile and departed. Misty followed him out of the store and watched him get into a conservative four-door car. He started up, backed carefully out of his space, and used his turn signal when he left the parking lot. A guy who played by the rules.

Paul was sweeping the floor inside the store again, and a few men from DX Security were helping scoop up and throw away the glass and petals. When Misty tried to help with the manual labor, Xavier told her not to—she might cut herself on the shards, he said. They’d take care of everything.

Shifters were amazing, Misty thought as she went back into her office. They banded together when any of their own were in trouble and worked to solve their problems. Cassidy’s mate, Diego, had come to Graham’s rescue in the desert; Diego had made sure his security company and Xav helped and protected Misty afterward. Iona had driven across town this morning to urge the insurance adjuster to start on Misty’s store right away. Misty wasn’t even Shifter—she was Graham’s girlfriend, and she wasn’t even sure of that status. But the Shifters had sent resources to help her, even when Misty knew Eric and Graham didn’t get along much of the time. They pulled together as a community. It warmed her that they considered her part of it.

Misty spent the rest of the morning canceling orders, e-mailing or calling customers, and apologizing until she was breathless. This was so wrong. Flores had broken into her store and wrecked her business, and she had to apologize.

By lunch, she needed a break. Paul and the security guys had done a great job sweeping everything up and salvaging what they could. The refrigeration room and the watering system still worked, which was a blessing, but she’d need to replace all the glass doors, her counters, shelving, and the front door and window, which would be expensive, and who knew how much insurance would cover?

Depressed, she told Xav she was heading a few doors down to get herself an enchilada at the little café that served New Mexico–style Mexican food. Paul had already gone down there, Xav said and offered to walk with her.

Xav was another nice guy, Misty decided. He wore the same black T-shirt as the rest of the security men, the tight fabric showing off every muscle beneath it. Diego and Xav had probably decided on the shirts to reassure clients that DX Security hired only strong guys.

Misty focused on the DX men in an effort to not dwell on a Shifter who also looked hot in a tight T-shirt. Even hotter without it.

Graham hadn’t called Misty all morning, hadn’t said a word. Stay away, he’d told her forcefully. Misty thought she understood why—now that she’d broken free of the thirst spell, he didn’t want her near him to get caught in danger again. He was hurting, vulnerable, and didn’t want to drag her into his problems.

Well, she’d dragged him into hers first. They should work on this together.

But who was she kidding? Graham had never indicated he wanted anything more from Misty than dating, and not even serious dating. Even if they figured out a way to get Graham free from the Fae spell, Graham might tell Misty he wanted to call it quits. She’d already laid the groundwork by getting mad at him and asking him not to call her.

And look how long that had lasted. Graham had come charging to her house only a few hours later. And now he was deciding they should stay apart. He drove her insane, and she was never going to win a control battle with him.

She needed to forget about Graham, Misty decided. There were plenty of other men around—for instance, Xav, or Kevin the insurance guy.

But Graham wasn’t someone she could easily forget, and Misty knew it. He lingered, like the taste of the best wine—or something with a little harsher bite, like the tequila last night.

You are so beautiful. The words had softened Graham’s rough-edged voice. The tequila talking, Misty guessed. But the phrase had shot straight to her heart and lodged there. She had no illusions about what she looked like, but Graham had been talking about how he saw her. Misty would treasure his words for a long time.

Misty and Xav reached the restaurant. It was crowded, this place popular. Paul had already snagged a table. Misty ordered herself an enchilada with spinach and white cheese topped with green chile sauce, her favorite. Paul went for a chimi, and Xav had the carnitas, the restaurant’s specialty.

Halfway through the meal, which Misty was too distracted to appreciate, Paul excused himself and went into the back. When Misty glanced at him in the rear hall of the restaurant, he beckoned to her.

He wanted to talk to her alone. Paul wasn’t entirely comfortable in social atmospheres yet, and he often asked Misty to step aside with him while he worked out his nerves.

“What is it?” she asked quietly as she joined him. The restaurant’s crowd was noisy today, Xav answering his phone and not watching them, but Misty didn’t want anyone overhearing. Paul was easily embarrassed these days.

“A friend of mine wants to talk to you,” Paul said. “Think we can ditch our bodyguards?”

Misty’s alarm grew again. “What friend?”

“Don’t worry, he’s not from one of the prison gangs I had to sell my soul to.” Paul made a face. “I met him after I got out. He knows my parole officer, actually. Probably wants to talk to you about keeping me out of trouble.”