Page 34

After a moment, she surprises me when she asks, “Do you want to come up?”

I look at her. She’s staring straight ahead, chin level.

I read her face carefully. This isn’t what it was two nights ago. The wanting in her eyes, her pretending she didn’t. This is something else. Someone who has been strong all day for everyone around her and has nothing left to perform with. She’s offering to let her guard down in front of me. My wolf is practically panting with eagerness.

“Yeah,” I say. “I do.”

Upstairs, she showers while I make myself at home in her kitchen. I find wine without much trouble. She strikes me as someone who keeps a good bottle accessible. I pour two glasses and set them on the coffee table, then stand at her windows looking out at the city. It’s coming to life underneath the darkening sky.

I understand it better now, the view. Why she needs it. This city glittering below like it’s fine, like it didn’t almost tear itself apart, like there isn’t a man out there right now planning the next thing he’ll burn just to make a point. She looks at it every day and chooses to believe it’s worth protecting anyway. That takes more courage than anything I’ve watched her do tactically.

When I turn, the raccoon has materialized on the kitchen counter behind me. I don’t know where he came from or how he got in. The little shit is sneakier than any wolf I’ve ever known. Good thing he’s her friend, or I’d have to make a pelt out of him.

“How was the topiary?” I ask.

He regards me with dark, unimpressed eyes and deposits a diamond-studded hair clip on the counter with great ceremony.

“Ah, I see you found greener pastures elsewhere,” I say.

He slinks off, disappearing around the corner of the sofa.

When Mia emerges, she’s in dark leggings, an oversized shirt that’s been washed to within an inch of its life, and thick socks. Her hair is damp from the shower, which only makes the red brighter and slightly wavy. She looks younger like this. Less armored. And so damn sexy that my mouth waters.

I swallow. And force myself to blink.

“Your friend has returned,” I say, nodding at the raccoon, mostly so she doesn’t catch me gawking at her. Or the erection I’m trying to hide. “He brought you a present.”

Mia walks over and picks up the hair clip, inspecting it. “Did you swipe this from the mansion?” she asks.

The rodent chitters at her.

“This is Lexi’s,” she tells him. “She’s my friend. You need to put it back.”

The rodent scowls.

Mia shakes her head, sets it back on the counter, and walks away. She drops onto the couch, pulls her legs up beneath her, and reaches for her wine. “Thanks for this,” she says, lifting it up as if in toast. “Best dinner ever.”

I take the other end of the couch and pick up my own glass. “To our first meal together,” I say solemnly.

She snorts, and we both drink.

For a while, we just sit. The city hums below us. Echo investigates my jacket pocket with more boldness than I’d expect from something my wolf sees as prey, finds nothing of interest, and retires to the back of the couch between us like a small furry chaperone.

“He brought me a diamond bracelet this morning,” Mia says.

“I heard.”

She looks at me, brows drawn in sudden suspicion. “From who?”

“Dutch. He was overly concerned about the property law implications."

“How did Dutch—Crow,” she realizes and then mutters, “Tattletale.”

She snorts into her wine. It's the first sound she’s made that isn’t grief or strategy, and I feel it in my chest like relief.

“You have a good group of friends in those guys,” I say.

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, they can be total dumbasses, but I love them.”