Chapter 11

11

BECK

T he sharp chime of the Rusty Fork’s doorbell cut through the diner’s low hum of conversation. Beck’s sharp gaze followed Irene’s to the two men stepping through the doorway. They weren’t locals and he couldn’t be sure they were the same men he’d seen before. Their stiff postures and predatory energy marked them as hunters. Their clothes, worn and stained with dirt, told him they’d spent time in the woods. The faint but unmistakable tang of gun oil and sweat followed them like a warning.

Hunters.

Beck felt his wolf stir, a low growl rumbling in the back of his mind. He glanced at Irene. Her face was a careful mask, but the stiffness in her shoulders spoke volumes. She smelled them, too. Knew exactly who they were—and so did Beck.

Beck slid out of the booth and rose to his full height, his imposing frame drawing the hunters’ attention almost immediately. He strode toward them, his steps measured and deliberate. The two men exchanged a glance, their conversation halting as they turned to face him.

“I’m Sheriff Grey. Can I help you gentlemen?”

The taller of the two, a man with a scruffy beard and hard eyes, gave him a once-over. His lips curved into a thin, humorless smile. “Just grabbing something to eat,” he said, his tone casual but guarded.

Beck crossed his arms, his sharp gaze flicking between them. “You boys aren’t from around here. I don’t think I’ve seen you here in town,” he observed. “Where you boys coming from?”

The second man, stockier and younger, shifted uncomfortably under Beck’s scrutiny. “Just passing through,” he muttered.

Beck’s wolf bristled, sensing the lie. He stepped closer, his presence filling the small space between them. “Passing through, huh? That’s interesting. Not many folks ‘passing through’ this area make it this far into the valley. Silver Falls tends to be a destination spot because it ain’t on the way to anywhere.”

The taller man’s smile faltered, his hand twitching toward the strap of the bag slung over his shoulder. Beck’s sharp eyes didn’t miss the motion.

“Careful,” Beck said, his voice dropping into a warning growl. “I react badly to surprises, as do my friends and my deputy, who’s right across the street.”

The man hesitated, his jaw tightening. “You always harass customers like this?”

Beck’s lips curved into a faint smile, but there was no humor in it. “You’re not my customers. And when someone comes in stinking of trouble, I try to let them know I can visit a whole lot more trouble on them than they can on me and mine.”

The stocky man glanced nervously at his companion. “We’re just here for some food,” he said quickly. “Ain’t looking for any trouble.”

Beck’s gaze didn’t waver. “Good. Because you won’t find much patience for your bullshit here. Best take what you came for and leave.”

The taller man held Beck’s gaze for a beat too long before finally looking away. “We’ll grab something to go,” he said, his tone clipped.

Beck didn’t move as they walked to the refrigerated case near the counter, their movements tense and deliberate. He could feel Irene’s eyes on him, her presence steady and grounding even as his wolf growled with the urge to do more than just talk.

The hunters grabbed a few pre-packaged sandwiches and drinks, shoving them into their bag with hurried motions. As they turned to leave, Beck stepped into their path, his arms still crossed.

“Not so fast,” he said, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. “You forgot to pay. I wouldn’t want to have to arrest you for shoplifting.”

The stocky man fumbled for his wallet, his hands trembling slightly as he pulled out a few bills and tossed them onto the counter. The taller man’s jaw clenched, but he followed suit, his glare promising retribution he wasn’t bold enough to voice.

“Thanks,” Beck said, his tone sharp and dismissive. “Now, if you’re smart, you’ll keep moving. Don’t let me catch you wandering around where you don’t belong. We take trespassing seriously around here.”

The taller man opened his mouth, but his companion grabbed his arm, muttering something under his breath. With a final glance at Beck—and a quick, nervous one at Irene—they pushed through the door and disappeared into the night.

Beck stood still, listening to their retreating footsteps fade into the distance before removing his cell phone from his pocket. “Trap, two guys just left the Rusty Fork. Keep your eye on them until my people get to you; then head back to the office.” Turning back to the booth, he saw Irene watching him, her expression unreadable.

“They’re not just passing through,” she said quietly.

“No,” Beck agreed, sliding back into the booth across from her. “They’re looking for something.”

“And you think it’s me?”

Beck nodded. “I think it might be. But it could also be the treasure—or both. Either way, they’re not done. And neither am I.”

Irene’s breath seemed to catch, the charged silence between them stretching as she struggled to hold his gaze. Beck leaned forward, his voice low and firm.

“Whatever you’re hiding, Irene, it’s drawing them here. We’ve had hunters here before and they always move on. These guys look like they’re settling in. I’m not about to let them put you—or this town—in danger.”

Her whole body stiffened, but she didn’t look away. “I didn’t ask for them to target me, nor did I ask for your help, Beck.”

“Tough,” he said, his voice a quiet growl. “You’re getting my help whether you like it or not.”

The storm brewing in his eyes sent a shiver racing down her spine. Irene’s hands tightened into fists on the top of the table, the vein in her neck pounding as she fought to find her voice.

“Fine,” she said finally, her tone clipped. “But don’t expect me to make it easy.”

Beck’s lips curved into a faint, knowing smile, his wolf growling softly in agreement. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The hunters might have left the Rusty Fork, but the unease they’d left behind lingered in the air, heavy and suffocating. Beck could feel it like a storm building on the horizon, and he knew that Irene’s secrets were wrapped up with it.

Beck slid back into the booth, rolling his shoulders to alleviate their tenseness as the hunters disappeared from view. He picked up his glass of water, taking a slow sip while keeping his eyes on Irene.

She stared at him for a beat before a small, incredulous laugh escaped her. “You enjoyed that,” she accused, her voice laced with a mix of amusement and disbelief.

Beck arched a brow, setting his glass down. “I wouldn’t say I enjoyed it,” he said, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward. “But having them a little intimidated? That’s not the worst thing I can do.”

Irene shook her head, a reluctant smile tugging at her lips. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Only when the situation calls for it,” Beck replied smoothly. His eyes softened as he leaned forward, his tone shifting. “I meant what I said earlier, though. I appreciate you telling me as much as you did. I know it wasn’t easy.”

Irene’s smile faded slightly, her gaze dropping to the table. “It wasn’t,” she admitted. “But I figured you deserved something for saving my life... twice.”

“You mean three times,” Beck said with a faint smile.

Her head snapped up. “Three?”

“Counting tonight,” he said. “I’m keeping track, in case you’re wondering.”

Irene rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the faint flush creeping up her cheeks. “Don’t push your luck.”

Beck chuckled softly, the sound low and warm, but his expression turned serious. “I get your need for secrecy about your pack. I do. And I’ll honor it as long as it doesn’t put this town—or you—in danger. But the treasure?” He shook his head. “That’s a different story.”

Irene stiffened, her shoulders tensing as she picked at her fries. “I told you, it’s not about the treasure.”

“It’s always about the treasure,” Beck said firmly, his gaze holding hers. “Whether it’s you, the hunters, or some fool stumbling across your trail—it doesn’t matter. That thing has been nothing but trouble for more than a century, and I don’t intend to let it claim anyone else.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but Beck held up a hand. “Before you say anything, let me make one thing clear. If you’re looking for it, I’ll help you. But I’m not doing it for money or for anyone else in Silver Falls. Whatever you find, it’s yours. No strings attached.”

Irene stared at him, her lips parting slightly in surprise. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I don’t want to see you get hurt,” Beck said simply. “And because I’m tired of people coming to my town chasing legends and leaving devastation in their wake. If helping you puts an end to this once and for all, then so be it.”

Her gaze softened, a flicker of something unspoken passing between them. For a moment, the air between them felt lighter, less charged, and she nodded. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

“You’re welcome,” Beck replied. “But don’t think this means I’m going easy on you. I’ll still expect answers—and honesty.”

Irene’s lips quirked into a wry smile. “I’ll do my best. But I make no promises.”

“Not good enough. If you answer me, you answer me honestly. Otherwise, don’t answer,” Beck said with a small grin.

“But that might give you the answer,” she countered.

“I know,” he grinned.

Irene began to relax, picking up her burger and taking a tentative bite. Her expression softened further as the flavors hit her tongue, and she let out a soft, appreciative hum.

“Okay,” she said, her tone lighter now. “This might be the best burger I’ve ever had. I know the ribs I got the other night were.”

Beck chuckled. “Welcome to the Rusty Fork. Glad to see you’re finally enjoying yourself.”

Irene grinned, wiping a bit of sauce from the corner of her mouth. “Don’t get used to it.”

Beck watched her as she settled into the meal, the parts of her personality she tried so hard to shield softening with every bite. It was a rare glimpse of her letting her guard down, and he found himself captivated by the change in her demeanor.

“Tell me about your time at the university,” he said, his tone casual but curious. “You mentioned archaeology earlier.”

Her eyes lit up, and she launched into a story about her first fieldwork assignment in the Arizona desert, her voice animated as she described the thrill of unearthing artifacts and the camaraderie of working with her team. Beck listened intently, a small smile tugging at his lips as she shared her experiences.

“You sound like you really loved it,” he said when she paused to take a sip of her drink.

“I did,” Irene admitted, a touch of wistfulness in her tone. “It was my escape, my way of finding something tangible in a world that felt... uncertain.”

Beck leaned forward slightly, his expression softening. “And yet, you left it behind.”

Her gaze flicked to his, and for a moment, she looked as though she might deflect the question. But then she sighed, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “Life has a way of pulling you in unexpected directions,” she said simply.

Beck studied her, his sharp gaze searching her face. “I think there’s more to it than that.”

Irene arched a brow, her smile returning. “What happened to not pushing for answers?”

“I said I’d honor your secrets about your pack,” Beck said, his voice low and even. “But I never said I wouldn’t ask questions.”

She laughed softly, shaking her head. “You’re relentless, you know that?”

“Always,” Beck said, his smile widening.

The comfortable rhythm of their conversation was interrupted by a faint sound outside the diner—a low rumble of voices and the sound of boots on gravel. Beck’s wolf stirred, his senses sharpening as his gaze flicked to the window.

Irene noticed the shift in his posture, her expression tightening. “What is it?”

“Stay here,” Beck said, his tone firm.

Before she could protest, he rose from the booth and headed out the door.

“Trap?”

“Des came with a couple of your guys. He said they’d put them under surveillance.”

“Any trouble?”

“Not yet, but…”

“Yeah, I know. Thanks, Trap.”

Trap nodded and then headed back to the sheriff’s office. The storm brewing outside wasn’t over yet. Beck returned to the booth, forcing his body to look calm and composed. He slid back into his seat.

“Everything okay?” she asked, her voice steady but laced with curiosity.

“For now,” Beck replied, his tone low. “But I wouldn’t put it past them to keep sniffing around.”

Irene nodded, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass. The guarded look was back in her eyes, but there was a flicker of something else—something softer.

Beck leaned forward, his gaze unwavering. “Irene,” he began, his voice quieter now, “there’s something I need to tell you.”

She stilled, her eyes narrowing slightly. “What is it?”

“I know what you are to me,” he said, his tone steady, yet laced with an underlying vulnerability. “You’re my fated mate.”

The words hung in the air between them, charged and undeniable.

Irene’s lips parted slightly, her expression shifting from guarded to something that looked dangerously close to shaken. “Beck...” she began, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m not saying this to pressure you,” he continued, his eyes never leaving hers. “I just... I need you to know. I’ve known since the moment I caught your scent. And I think you know it, too.”

Irene opened her mouth to respond, then closed it again, her fingers tightening around her glass. Her gaze flicked to the table, then back to him, and for a moment, Beck thought she might bolt.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she leaned back slightly, her eyes searching his face as if trying to find the words. “I... I don’t know what to say,” she admitted finally.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Beck said gently. “I’m not asking for answers or promises. But I need you to understand that—to know you can trust me to protect you and your damn secrets, and to know I won’t back off. Earlier you called me relentless. There are folks in town who will tell you that when you look up that word in the dictionary, you’ll find my picture.”

Irene looked stunned for a moment and then laughed, the merriment glistening in her eyes. “You know, I think I believe that.”

“Good. I didn’t want it to surprise you,” Beck said. “This connection between us—it’s real. And it’s not something I’m willing to ignore.”

Neither of them said anything, but his confession settled over both of them like a tangible force. Irene looked away briefly, her lips pressing into a thin line, but she didn’t look repulsed. If anything, she looked... tempted.

Beck rose from the booth, holding out a hand. “Come on, I’ll walk you back to the B&B,” he said softly.

“Would it do me any good to decline?”

“None whatsoever.”

Irene hesitated, then placed her hand in his, her touch sending a jolt of electricity through him.

The walk back to the Bristlecone Bed & Breakfast was quiet, the night air cool and crisp around them. Beck stayed close, scanning the shadows for any signs of danger, his protective instincts on high alert.

When they reached the porch, Irene paused, turning to face him. The soft glow of the porch light cast a warm hue over her features, highlighting the hint of uncertainty in her eyes.

“Thank you,” she said softly, her voice carrying more weight than the simple words implied.

“You don’t have to thank me,” Beck replied, his voice equally soft. “It’s my job to keep you safe.”

“And you’re not just talking about being sheriff, are you?” she asked, her gaze steady now.

“I like that you’re smart,” he said as he stepped closer, his towering frame blocking out the rest of the world as he looked down at her. “It’s so much more than that.”

Before she could respond, he leaned down, capturing her lips in a kiss that was both tender and possessive. For a moment, Irene froze, her breath hitching, but then she melted against him, her hands coming up to grip his shoulders.

The kiss deepened quickly, the simmering attraction between them igniting into a blazing fire. Beck’s arms wrapped around her, pulling her flush against him as his lips moved over hers with a hunger he couldn’t contain.

Irene’s fingers tangled in his hair, her body arching into him as a soft moan escaped her lips. The sound sent a bolt of desire through Beck, his wolf growling in approval as he backed her against the porch railing.

The world around them faded, leaving only the heat between them, the intoxicating pull that bound them together. Beck’s hands slid down her back, his touch firm and deliberate as he explored the curve of her waist, the softness of her skin.

“Beck,” Irene murmured against his lips, her voice breathless and filled with a mix of desire and hesitation.

“I’ve got you,” he said, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine.

The intensity of the moment threatened to consume them, their connection deeper and more electrifying than either of them had anticipated. But just as Beck’s hand slid to the small of her back, the faint sound of approaching footsteps reached his ears, snapping him back to reality.

Beck pulled back slightly, his breathing ragged as he scanned the darkness. Irene’s eyes widened, her own breath coming in shallow pants as she followed his gaze.

“We’re not alone,” Beck muttered, his sharp gaze cutting through the shadows.

Irene stiffened, her hands gripping his arms. “Who is it?”

“I don’t know,” Beck said, his voice low and dangerous.

The sound grew closer, and Beck’s wolf bristled, every instinct screaming to protect her. He stepped in front of Irene, his body a shield as he prepared for whatever—or whoever—was coming.

The night seemed to hold its breath, the tension thick and suffocating, but the sound evaporated as if it had never been there.