Kyle and Matt squirmed in joy and wagged their tails.
“Shit,” he repeated, softly this time. Raising Dougal had been the hardest thing Graham had ever done—he was still doing it. No way could he go through that again. “Tell you what; we’ll go visit a nice Shifter lady whose cubs had to have been worse even than you two.”
Fine with Matt and Kyle. Graham left the disaster of his kitchen and went out of the house again. He marched back through Shiftertown, the two wolf cubs on his shoulders clinging so tightly they ripped into the black shirt Diego had given him, cutting into Graham’s skin underneath.
CHAPTER SIX
Misty surveyed the wreck of her store without being able to feel much. She’d built the shop with nothing but a little savings, a start-up grant for women in small business, and a bit of know-how.
Her father had been great at starting businesses. He’d absolutely sucked at keeping the businesses going after a week or two, because his get-rich-quick plans never worked out. But it had been so much fun for Misty and Paul to help him out. When the three of them had been together, working, planning, and dreaming, they couldn’t be stopped.
Dad had never succeeded, and had died in an accident when Misty had been a senior in high school. Misty had learned from him, though, how to get a business up and running. She’d chosen a flower shop because people bought flowers when they wanted to make other people happy or cheer them up. Misty had had enough unhappiness shoved at her in her lifetime that she wanted a career that would take her away from that.
She’d discovered selling flowers was not as easy as it seemed, but she’d researched, worked hard, and got lucky when this strip mall had a small slot to fill. Her shop didn’t make millions, but Misty made a living, and she liked what she was doing. Now that Paul had his parole, he worked for her, doing deliveries and running errands, and he was enjoying it.
Misty had labored so hard for this business, and one person with a grudge had ruined it in the space of a morning. She might have to close, not just until she cleaned up the store, but for good. She’d had to cancel the orders for today that hadn’t already been on the van, and she’d probably have to cancel the rest of the orders for the month and return her customers’ money. One of Diego’s security team had taken the shop’s van, the only thing intact, out to make the remaining deliveries so Paul could stay safely in Shiftertown.
Misty knew she owed Diego and his guys for all their help. Graham too, even more so. She and Paul would have been dead today if it hadn’t been for Graham.
Xavier Escobar had driven her down to the store and come in with her. “What a mess,” he said, looking around. “At least we got the bastards who did this.”
Misty nodded, her throat tight. “I really appreciate you taking care of Paul. If something had happened to him . . .”
“It wouldn’t have been your fault,” Xavier said quickly, putting a warm hand on her shoulder. “Guys like Flores think they own the world and everyone in it. They need to be taught they don’t.” He chuckled. “It’s kind of fun to teach them.”
Xav was such a nice guy, in a hard don’t-mess-with-me kind of way. He too was a former cop, and had started DX Security with Diego to help people who couldn’t otherwise find help, which Misty could respect.
“We can have a team in here to clean up right away,” Xav said. “Make the place good as new.”
Misty shook her head and moved away from him. “Insurance assessment first. That’s why I pay for it.”
“Okay, but if they start being a pain in the ass about it, you call me. I know people, Iona’s family runs a construction company, Shifters like to build things . . .”
He leaned against the one clear spot on the counter as he spoke. Xav had brown black hair, dark brown eyes, liquid dark skin, and a square, handsome face. A hot man on a hot day. Why couldn’t Misty fall for someone like him?
But no, she had to have a soft spot for a crazy wolf Shifter with a growling voice and a piercing gray stare. She shivered as she thought about that stare when she’d closed the door on him. But Misty had needed to be alone, to think, to worry about why Graham had been so enraged at her, why he’d said such things to her. And why was she so thirsty?
“Any more water left?”
Xavier looked into the little cooler he’d brought with him. “You drank the last one.”
No problem. She’d go across to the convenience store. Misty was out the door and halfway across the parking lot before Xavier could follow.
At the convenience store, Misty nodded a hello to Pedro at the cash register then went straight to the drink refrigerators and started taking out bottles of water. If she was this dehydrated, she thought dimly, she should grab some Gatorade or something. But no, she wanted water. Buckets of it.
“Hey,” a voice said beside her.
Misty looked up, her arms full of blissfully cool and moist bottles, to see the hiker from the desert. He was still in his hiking gear, a little more sweaty and dirty than before, and he was reaching for water too.
“You made it back,” he said.
Obvious, since Misty was standing right there. “Yeah. We made it. What happened to you? I thought you were right behind me, and then you weren’t.”
The hiker shrugged. “Took a different trail. Didn’t see you. When I looked for you, you were gone, so I figured you’d caught a ride.”
Misty nodded. “Friends came and picked us up.”
“Good.” He plucked a bottle out of the fridge and smiled at her.
The smile was odd. His teeth weren’t exactly pointed, but they didn’t look right either. His hair, tousled and sweat soaked, covered his head to his neck. When his hair wasn’t dirty, it would be very light blond, almost white.
“See ya,” he said, and turned his lanky body to move to the cash register.
Misty took yet another bottle from the fridge and wished she’d thought to grab a handbasket. By the time she struggled up to the register, the hiker was gone.
“What are the odds?” she asked.
“What?” Pedro looked at her blankly, pausing as he rang up her purchase.
Misty realized she’d said the words out loud. “What are the odds that a guy I met out in the desert turns up at this convenience store? How many are in this city—say, thirty? More than that? But he comes to the one right next to my shop.”
“Maybe he likes you,” Pedro said, counting out her change.