Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 113944 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113944 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
“He’ll believe it,” agreed Zander, stroking a hand over her hair. It had been damn hard to remain in his seat, leaving her to deal with Cogman alone. He’d wanted to be close, wanted to give her support as a mate should. Instead, he’d had to watch her sit opposite that motherfucker. His wolf had growled and snarled and brooded, not wanting the male anywhere near her.
Zander had also kept watch on Cogman’s bodyguards, wanting to be sure they didn’t touch Gwen. If they’d even tried, Zander’s shifter-speed would have had him at her side in an instant. Cupping her chin, he brought her face to his. “You won’t have to deal with him again.”
He kissed her, and Gwen almost moaned. He tasted of cream, fluffy pastry, and sugary glaze. As he pulled back, she took a long breath and said, “So now we put the next part of our plan into action. I need to speak to Colt.”
Zander brushed his thumb over her chin. “I’ll be with you.”
“You can’t come into the station with me.”
His grip involuntarily tightened on her jaw. “Why not?”
“Because it wouldn’t make any sense for you to keep protecting me if you thought I was giving up on Andie. Colt will think it’s weird that you’d stay at my side. I have to lie to him and say that you don’t know why I’m there.”
Zander swore, releasing her. He hadn’t considered that.
She rubbed his thigh. “You can stay in the SUV. I’ll give some spiel to Colt about wanting to keep you guys around for my family’s sake. I’ll be okay on my own. Nothing’s going to happen to me in a police station.”
Zander clenched his jaw. She was probably right. Still . . . “I don’t like it.”
“Trust me, I’ll be fine.”
“I do trust you.”
Gwen’s breath caught in her throat. Considering she’d opened up to him at a snail’s pace, it was the last thing she’d thought he’d say. Especially since he was, by his own admission, extremely guarded. Lost for words, she leaned into him, letting him know she appreciated and valued his trust in her.
He pressed a lingering kiss to her hair and squeezed her nape. “Let’s get this done, yeah?”
“Yeah,” she said softly.
A short while later, Derren whipped the SUV into a parking space outside the sheriff’s department. Zander immediately noticed the sheriff’s car. Through the large windows of the office, it was easy to see that the chairs in the reception area were vacant. Good. Zander didn’t want Gwen to have to hang around awhile, waiting for her chance to speak with Colt.
“Hopefully I won’t be long,” said Gwen.
Zander grabbed her braid, keeping her in place as he gave her a light kiss. “We’ll be here. Call or text if you need me.”
With a faint smile, she slid out of the SUV. Staying in his seat, watching her walk into a messed-up situation alone, went against every protective instinct he had. And it gutted him.
“She’ll be okay, Z,” said Bracken. “The sheriff might not like her, but he’s not a physical threat to her.”
Derren nodded. “Besides, she’s tough.”
“She’s also mine.” This was twice in one day that Zander couldn’t be at her side while she went through a shitty experience. He hated that.
“She’s been through worse alone,” Ally pointed out.
Zander clenched his fists. “Reminding me of that does not help.” His pulse spiked as Gwen disappeared into the sheriff’s department, out of his line of sight. He took a long breath. “This plan better fucking work.”
Gwen stepped into a clean, sterile reception area, nose wrinkling at the scents of coffee and bleach. The room was empty, apart from the janitor, and—as luck would have it—the sheriff. He appeared to be bullying the janitor, just as he did everyone else . . . which was likely why the poor guy looked close to ramming his cart into Colt’s gut.
She took a few steps toward them, snatching the sheriff’s attention. He straightened to his full height, brow creased. To her amusement, he also seemed to be struggling not to bare his teeth.
“Why are you here?” he asked.
“Such commendable people skills,” she said drily. There was no sense in acting pally with him. That would only make him suspicious.
“Just answer the damn question, Gwen.”
Before she could speak, the front door swung open, and a scantily dressed woman crossed to the sheriff on high heels, leaving the faint scent of marijuana in her wake. She also had some serious bruising on her face.
“Where is he?” she demanded, her voice a whip.
Colt sighed, bored. “Sandra, I’m going to have to ask you to stay calm.”
“Where’s Jim?”
“Where he normally is, Sandra—the drunk tank. And I suppose you’re going to tell me that the bruises on your face aren’t his artwork.”
She shifted uncomfortably. “I fell. You know I’m clumsy.”