Chapter 5

A s promised, Noah had set up security in the building that would be my temporary shop. Though I hadn't seen it yet, I had a sense of trepidation about running a store alone.

Now I was confronted with the grief of letting go. All of my father's books that he had spent centuries collecting would be scattered to the wind. Books he'd once shelved proudly, handled with care, pored over, and discussed at great length with me would belong to strangers who might not love them as much. Who might use them to decorate an office or carelessly toss into a fireplace for kindling.

Two days had passed since Noah delivered the good news about the store, and today we were finally moving the books. He'd found someone with a truck to help with transporting them.

While he was gone, I moved the couch against the far wall to clear a path to the spare bedroom. After dragging the welcome mat away from the door, I heard several engines revving up the drive.

Noah's black Camaro appeared first, and behind him, a large white truck and a smaller black one followed. Noah parked to the left, and the trucks rearranged themselves before backing in toward the house. When the drivers shut off the engines, Noah got out to talk to them.

The black truck rose an inch when a colossal man emerged from the driver's side. His long-sleeved army-green shirt looked thin and painted on. He stroked his bushy beard while exchanging words with Noah. I recognized him from that fateful night. He was the guy kneeling by Mercy with tears in his eyes.

Please don't recognize me. Please don't recognize me.

I walked to the doorway, wondering if I should hide in the bedroom. Instead, I crossed an arm over my middle and shielded half my face with the other hand. He had only seen me that night for a second, and it was dark. Still, my heart ticked at a wild speed. Noah knew nothing about that night, nor did I want him to.

The driver's-side door opened on the white truck. A man with long dark hair and a goatee flicked his crystal-blue eyes up at me before joining the others at the tailgate. When another man popped out from the passenger side, my heart quickened and my thoughts derailed.

Of all people, he brought the man I slept with? Am I in the middle of a nightmare? Wake up! Wake up!

Before I could slink into the bedroom and hide, the Adonis looked up and noticed me.

Too late to hide now.

"This way," Noah said before jogging up the steps. While the men lowered the tailgates on the trucks, Noah cast a critical gaze to my black dress and bare feet. Then he curved his hand behind my neck and smiled. "Today's the big day. Go put on something nice before we head to your new store. You have a lot of work to do."

The men hiked up the porch steps and crowded us.

Noah slid his arm around me tight. "These gentlemen are helping with your merchandise. Boys, this is my girl. She was just getting out of your way. Everything's in the back room on the right. The door should be open."

The bearded man smiled at me. "Ma'am," he said, tipping his head before ducking inside. I breathed a sigh of relief. The second one, who favored a fictional Vampire from Italy in his black attire, forced a smile that looked more like a scowl before following his friend. And the third man with the faded blue T-shirt and missing arm ignored me as he walked inside.

Noah lowered his voice and spoke to me. "Keep out of the way. You have the keys, right?"

I tapped my dress pocket, and the keys jingled.

"Good girl. Don't lose them. I want you to keep the store locked up, you hear me?"

"Yes."

The bearded giant emerged with a large box. As he slid it into the truck, I dove inside to change clothes. After putting on a burnt-orange skirt and an oversized cream top, I laced up my boots and stayed as quiet as a mouse so I could eavesdrop. But all they did was grunt, cuss, and crack a few jokes.

It still hurt to think he didn't remember me. Or perhaps he wanted to forget me.

Once in the living room, I stared through the open door at the boxes stacked on the porch.

When the Adonis emerged from the spare room with a small box on his right shoulder, I jumped out of the way.

"Fuck," he hissed to no one in particular. "Guess I don't need to work out tonight." He strode onto the porch and stacked his burden on another box. When he turned around, my stomach tumbled into the abyss.

He wiped his sweaty brow with the bottom of his T-shirt, flashing a six-pack and V-cut that made my throat dry up.

The long-haired man bustled through with a box in his arms and stormed out the door. "Hold the fuck up!" he called out. " You're stacking them too high. They'll fall out of the damn truck." Then he stepped over boxes and joined the others, who were loading up the vehicles.

The man with the smoldering eyes kicked the front door with his heel, causing the door to close halfway.

I played with my bracelet in the open space, avoiding his gaze.

He crossed the room as if to return to the boxes but stopped short, eyes trained on me. "Were you two together when we…?"

Oh my God. He remembers.

"I recognize the car." He studied my face. "Don't worry. I can keep a secret."

I looked toward the front window but only saw Noah's car in view.

He prowled toward me and stole a quick glance over his shoulder before rooting his feet in place. When his tongue swiped across the seam of his lips, my breath hitched. "I thought you were leaving town?" he asked quietly, lingering close to the second bedroom.

"I thought you were too drunk to remember me."

He stroked his bottom lip. "I was drunk, but not enough to forget the way you wrapped those thighs around me."

My face flushed as I turned my attention to the front door. The men outside were busy slamming boxes into the truck and talking.

The man eased closer. "We were never properly introduced. I'm Archer Swift."

Archer. Of course . The tattoo on his right upper arm of a bow and arrow captured my interest, and I mused that he could be the real-life version of Cupid. Only instead of arrows, he was spearing women with his big…

"Are you going to tell me your name?" he purred, his voice warm and inviting.

"Cis-Cecilia. "

He tilted his head to the side, a grin playing on his lips. "Nice to meet you, Cici."

I bit my bottom lip, thinking how clumsy I sounded stuttering my own name.

Lovely. Now he thinks I'm an inarticulate woman who sleeps around.

But I couldn't think straight with the smell of coconut wafting toward me. It triggered memories as I recalled his delicious scent, sweet taste, and warm body.

Suddenly I was breathing a lot faster.

He raked his teeth over his bottom lip. When he reached for me, I froze. Archer lifted my hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to my knuckles, melting my core. "Nice to finally meet you."

He abruptly let go and disappeared into the bedroom. Before my hand dropped to my side, Noah tromped in.

Noticing me immediately, he grabbed my arm and walked me to the sofa. "Stay out of the way until we finish. I don't want you to get hurt."

Once seated, I watched the men zip back and forth like busy ants. Because the house was uncomfortably small with so many people moving through it, I picked up a book and pretended to read so it wouldn't appear as if I was gawking at them.

Which I was.

It felt strange to have people in the house, especially men. Most especially Archer, who kept stealing glances at me the second he entered the room. I curled my legs beneath me and positioned the book below my eyes, which allowed me to discreetly spy on everyone passing through.

Noah's voice boomed from outside. There was an issue with the boxes fitting in the trucks.

"Motherfucker," the long-haired man growled as he walked inside. "I told him not to put the big ones on top in the small truck. Does he listen to me? Fucking no. "

Archer carried another box across the room and dumped it on the porch. "What's up?"

"We have to take all that shit out and redo it," the man muttered. "Are you sure he's paying us?" His eyes flicked around appraisingly.

Archer glanced over his shoulder at me, and I continued reading the same line over and over again. "That's what he said. You don't think he's good for it? Quit your bitching, Krys. Even if he doesn't, he'll owe us a favor." Archer gave him a pat on the shoulder. "It's the neighborly thing to do."

"What is? Dropping dead on his lawn?"

"Just cool it."

Krys turned toward the fridge. "That ship has sailed." He opened the fridge door and stared at the contents, then mumbled something to Archer, who joined his side.

I peered over my book, perplexed why the two men were staring so intently in our fridge. All we had was a package of hot dogs and beer. Perhaps they wanted the alcohol.

"That's Noah's beer," I called out. "You'll have to ask him first."

Krys frowned at Archer and said something else before Archer slammed the fridge door.

"Water's fine," Archer said while searching the cabinets.

Krys entered the laundry room and glanced around before searching our kitchen cabinets. When they found the glasses, they filled them with water and drank. It was uncomfortably silent, each gulp and gasp audible.

After setting down his glass, Krys made a hasty exit out the door.

I lowered my book when Archer swaggered my way. He knelt by the wall on my right, set the jar of suckers on the floor, and lifted the tablecloth, revealing the three boxes hidden beneath. Stealing a glance at the door, he then turned his attention to me. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I replied, uncertain what he meant. "Just a little bored."

He rubbed his chin. "I mean… are you hungry?"

I blinked, and before I could process what was coming out of my mouth, I asked, "If you remember me, why do you keep showing up? You invited Noah to exercise?"

Archer cleared his throat. "I didn't want him driving you home drunk."

"So you invited him to your house?" Lowering my voice, I said, "He can't find out about us."

"I know, I know," Archer said, raising his hand. "Trust me, I know. It was just a onetime thing. We all make mistakes."

I sucked in a breath.

Archer looked at the boxes. "So you're opening a bookstore, huh?"

"I guess."

He frowned. "You don't seem excited about it."

"They were my father's books. I have to get rid of them."

He nodded as if understanding. "One of my packmates is a book collector. I'll send him over."

"I'd appreciate that."

Archer's fingers stroked the wrapped suckers, and I couldn't strip my eyes away. "Mind if I have one?"

"Take what you want," I replied, thinking how that phrase had other connotations.

After choosing a flavor, he slid the candy into his back pocket. His downward glance made it seem like he wanted to say something more, but all he did was hold that position for a few seconds longer.

"Is that it?" Noah called out as he entered the room.

I raised the book to shield my face .

"Just these three," Archer said. "Give me a hand. I can't lift the big ones."

Noah chuckled. "You could have fooled me."

"Lift it, I can do. Carry it with one arm, I can't."

The two men laughed, and I wanted to crawl between the couch cushions and die. Then a voice in the back of my head chimed in: Why should you feel guilty? You're not mated to Noah. He's just your live-in boyfriend who won't commit.

Shut up , I replied. It doesn't make it right.

It sure felt right that night , she sang back.

"Are you going to be good by yourself?" Noah asked. "Once I leave, I won't be back unless there's an emergency."

"Is there any air in here?"

He heaved a sigh. "I can't get the guy to look at the air conditioner until tomorrow. You'll have to put up with the heat. There's water," he said, pointing at three bottles sitting on a box. "There's also a bathroom in the back, so you'll be fine. This is what you wanted, isn't it?"

I gave him a tight hug. "Of course."

"I'll be back at eight. That's seven hours, so get busy. You can't sell books if they're all in boxes. Once you have everything set up, you can open for business. Until then, the door stays locked."

I drew back and collected the box cutter off the dusty counter. As soon as I sliced one box open, Noah walked out and then knocked on the glass. When he pointed down, I locked the door.

I turned around and soaked in the quietness of my soon-to-be bookshop. Noah had purchased cheap bookshelves for the outside walls and two standing shelves in the middle that ran to the back. Since they were dirty, I wet a rag and meticulously cleaned each one. My father took great care of his books, and I wouldn't dream of carelessly shelving them on an inch of dust and grime.

Once every shelf was spotless, thus began the daunting task of removing the books from the boxes. To establish a semblance of order, the books were first separated by topic. Breed history books went in one pile, memoirs in another, and then I had my work cut out for me when I discovered Relic journals.

Relics possessed innate knowledge passed down through their DNA. Each generation would study and learn new information specific to their family's expertise, then fuse anything worth retaining to their DNA to pass on to future offspring. They were careful not to hastily infuse knowledge, because there was no undoing it. If they didn't research for accuracy, they could sabotage their descendants with false information.

To combat that issue, many kept journals to document uncertainties. But some put all their knowledge into books. My father had pointed out that not all Relics had children, and others lost them. To keep their knowledge from dying with them, they made a record of what mattered. Relics were genetically closest to humans, so they lived a human life span. Unlike other Breeds, they were susceptible to the same diseases and viruses as humans, making them that much more valuable.

I pondered over the conundrum of how I was going to sell these books when I didn't have any friends.

A knock at the door startled me. Through the glass, I recognized Mercy.

She waved and held up a plastic sack.

For an instant, I hesitated. Noah had cautioned me not to let anyone in, but I knew Mercy. She wasn't a threat.

I opened the door. "Hey. What are you doing here?"

She jutted her hip. "Bear told me about this nice couple he helped today, and when he gave me the description, I knew it had to be you."

"Bear?"

She flashed a bright smile. "That tall hunk with the sexy beard and soft eyes that makes me melt like butter on a hot roll."

I chuckled. "Bear. I remember him now. We weren't introduced."

She peered around me. "Mind if I come in and see what y'all are doing in here? I can't help myself. We don't have that many shops in town except hardware, so anything new is exciting."

Mercy was delightful, and I couldn't say no. "Come in. I'm just cleaning and sorting at the moment."

She stepped inside, fanning her blouse against her. "I feel like a hot coal in a dryer. Don't you have air-conditioning?"

"Not yet. Noah's working on it." I closed the door and locked it.

She gazed at the row of empty shelves and the boxes stacked everywhere. Her eyes rounded at the enormity of the endless piles. "Holy mackerel! It's gonna be a bookstore. What kinds of books are these?" She gingerly lifted the cover of one sitting on the clean counter.

"It's all Breed. There's also fiction and poetry in here that only circulated in our community. Most of it's nonfiction. History, medicine, memoirs, geography, and Breed-specific books. Some on clans, others documenting anatomy and unusual abilities. It's just… It's a mixture of everything."

"Wow." She perused an aisle, admiring the books with a light touch. "I've never been much of a reader, but we have a big library that could use some filling. A couple of my packmates are avid readers, one in particular who would love some of the medical stuff. Did you invite Milly?"

I shook my head.

Though I knew Milly as a local Relic, we didn't have a close relationship. I'd visited her on a few occasions, but Noah always did all the talking.

Mercy wiped her forehead. "Maybe I'll give her a call. Do you have a fan or something in here? You can open the door and blow some of this hot air out."

I sat on a box and raised my skirt a little higher. "I'm only working until eight, so?—"

"Eight?" she exclaimed, pulling out her phone. "That won't do." After a few seconds, she said, "Bear, can you bring that swamp cooler up to the bookstore you were just at?"

Swamp cooler?

"No," I cut in, jumping to my feet.

Mercy flicked her eyes up, then put the phone on mute. "What's wrong? This place is an oven."

"I'm not supposed to let anyone in."

"It's fine. You know us, and your boyfriend knows Bear."

"A swamp cooler is bad for books. The moisture will ruin the paper."

Her shoulders sagged, and she gave me a look of understanding. "We have a few oscillating fans."

"Really, no. I'm fine. It's just that I promised Noah I wouldn't let anyone inside. If I do, he'll worry."

"Honey, if those cameras are working, he already knows I'm here." She gestured up to the ceiling.

My jaw slackened. I knew he'd installed cameras, but I'd forgotten about them since they blended in with the ceiling panels. Was he watching me now? I really didn't want to ruin this.

"It's only for a day," I assured her. "We'll have cold air tomorrow. I really need to get back to work."

"Bear, I'll call you later. Forget the cooler. Okay, see you soon." She ended the call and slipped the phone in her purse. Mercy approached and set a white bag on the counter. "I brought you leftovers from lunch. The boys stopped by after helping you and insisted on it. I packed some ice in there to keep it fresh."

"That was nice. Thank you."

Mercy was not only petite but slender, and every time I saw her, she had on jean capris, painted sneakers, and a colorful blouse.

She teetered on one leg while staring outside. "I didn't see your car."

"Noah has it. He works long hours, so he'll pick me up when he can."

"You said eight? Is that normal?"

I nodded. "Usually. He commutes to Austin, so it takes a while."

"Does he go in early too? Girl! You can't work for twelve hours straight. I get off midafternoon. What if I swing by and pick you up? You can take a lunch break for a couple of hours and come by the house."

My mind was scrambling for an excuse.

"As long as you don't mind riding on my scooter," she went on, turning on her heel. "My packmate has a yoga class in the afternoon. You could join us!"

"I'm not good at that type of thing." I laughed. "Perhaps I'm just not flexible."

"Well, we can make you flexible for that man of yours."

I glanced up at the cameras. Noah would know if I left.

"They're aimed at the front," she pointed out as if reading my mind. "He's not gonna notice if you're shelving books in the back. All these buildings have a back door. I'm sure he wouldn't care if you took a break and got out for a little while. Twelve hours is crazy. Please?"

That last word tugged at my heart.

She canted her head. "I need to pay you back somehow. Maybe in friendship. Say yes . Most of the pack is working on a heat house right now, so it's pretty quiet when we do yoga. We're trying to talk Robyn into accepting clients or opening a class, but she's still not sure. You could persuade her, or maybe spread the word about her skills."

Spread the word? Besides yelling at a rake from a romance novel who had cheated on his wife, I'd barely talked to anyone in the past month.

Aside from the delivery guy.

And chatting it up with a man I'd had a fling with.

This week was going well.

"I'll come by tomorrow, and you can decide." She waved at the camera. "When you hear a horn beeping by the back door, that's me. I hope you like dinner!"

After she made an animated exit, I locked the door and removed the contents of the bag. There were three quarts of coleslaw, a container filled with ribs, and…

"Apple pie!" I jumped excitedly. The last time I'd eaten apple pie was four years ago on my thirty-fourth birthday. My father always made me a pie to celebrate that day.

Mercy had also included napkins and a fork, and there would be plenty left over for Noah this evening. Especially since she'd given us a whole pie. When I took my first bite, the flavors burst in my mouth like fireworks, memories of my past assailing me.

No matter how old he'd been and how many years we'd spent together, it wasn't enough.

I missed my father.