Rescued By The Wolf. Kristal Hollis

air. It seemed his lungs had forgotten how to function.

      “Stepped on a piece of glass.” He swallowed a gulp.

      “Most people cut their foot when stepping on glass. How did you manage doing it with your hand?” A soft breath caught in her throat. “You weren’t drunk, were you?”

      Well, that was like a stab to the gut. At least he covered the gasp with a sigh.

      Small town, big gossip. He should’ve known Grace would’ve heard more details about his life through the grapevine than he was comfortable with her knowing.

      “I was twelve.” He shook his hand free of her touch. “I didn’t start drinking until after my wife died.”

      “I’m sorry.”

      The second time in a matter of minutes that she’d said “sorry.” He found it peculiar humans apologized for things they weren’t responsible for doing and events they couldn’t control.

      “I tripped and fell on a piece of glass while playing in the sanctuary with my wolf.” Although he had been in wolf form when he’d stepped on the shard. It was as close to the truth as he could come. Still, the tiny lie bothered him.

      “You were playing with a wolf?” Grace’s eyes widened. “Where was your father?”

      “At the clinic.” Rafe grunted. “He wasn’t too happy that night when he came home. Said I should’ve gotten stitches. But it healed fine.”

      “I hope he grounded you.”

      “Why?”

      “Don’t you think it’s dangerous for children, or anyone for that matter, to play with wolves? They’re wild animals and wild animals can turn vicious.”

      “The Co-op’s wolves are different. Besides, my wolf and I are bonded. He could never hurt me.”

      Rafe steered Grace out of one of the open bays and to the right. She needed to learn about Wahyas sooner rather than later. As the Alphena-in-waiting’s best friend, the secret could be detrimental to their relationship and it could put Grace in a dangerous predicament.

      “I can’t believe you were playing with a wolf when you were twelve.” Grace shook her head. “Please tell me you weren’t naked.”

      “Nudity is a natural part of my life. So is my wolf. It’s the same for other Co-opers.”

      “So far, you’re the only one I’ve seen naked in the middle of the road. Should I expect to see others?”

      Not if the wolfan expects to keep his cock and balls attached to his groin.

      “What?” Grace’s pert little nose wrinkled as she looked up at him.

      Every cell in Rafe’s body went on alert.

      She shouldn’t have heard his thoughts. In human form, Wahyas didn’t manifest telepathic abilities.

      Except with their mates.

      And Grace Olsen was definitely not his mate.

       Chapter 5

      The soft jingle of door chimes drowned in the sea of voices filling Mabel’s Diner. The line for a table seemed endless. Headachy and jumpy, Grace needed coffee and she needed it now!

      “A drive-through will be faster.”

      Try as she might, Grace couldn’t push the six-foot man blocking the door out of the way.

      “You need to eat.”

      “A drive-through has food. It’s fast.” She hiked her thumb over her shoulder. “It’s going to be a long wait.”

      “It won’t, I promise.” Rafe’s warm hands cupped her shoulders and he turned her around.

      A shiver rolled along her spine as warmth spread through her body. Each time Rafe touched her, she felt this tingly boost, as if he was sharing his energy with her. A ridiculous notion since she barely knew the man.

      The concussion must’ve affected her rational thinking.

      “Rafe Wyatt!” A plump, seventyish woman with a bright red-dyed beehive hairdo slid off her stool behind the cash register and strolled toward them flapping her fingers in a give-me-a-hug gesture. “What brings you out this early?”

      Early? It was lunchtime.

      “Good to see you, Mabel.” Rafe stood stoically throughout the elderly woman’s demonstrative embrace.

      “Who’s your lady friend?” Mabel swung her head toward Grace. One of her painted-on eyebrows rose as her gaze traveled down the length of Grace and back up again. “Haven’t seen you around. New in town?”

      “Not exactly. I’m visiting friends.” She shook Mabel’s hand. “I’m Grace Olsen.”

      “Amazing Grace,” Mabel sang. “That’ll be easy to remember.”

      “Grace needs coffee and food,” Rafe interrupted. “She was in an accident last night and hasn’t eaten a decent meal since before supper yesterday.”

      “Gracious.” Mabel’s hand landed on her ample chest. “I wondered why she was dressed like that.”

      Grace clutched the front of the borrowed shirt she wore and looked around. Everyone’s eyes were on her. “If you can’t serve me in the restaurant, can I get something to go? Starting with coffee? Lots and lots of coffee?” A tank would be nice.

      “Not serve you?” Mabel squawked. “I’ve never turned anyone away, and you’re dressed just fine. We’re all friends here.” Mabel draped her arm over Grace’s shoulders. She called to the woman wearing a Mabel’s Diner T-shirt and jeans who whipped past them carrying a tray of dirty dishes and dumped them in a large gray bin. “Ronni, sit Rafe and Gracie at the table you just cleared. She’s half starved. If she passes out, people will think I ran out of food.”

      “That would start a riot for sure,” Ronni said. “Come with me.”

      She led them to an empty booth with a window view of the R&L’s side wall and back lot.

      Rafe sat opposite Grace and slid her the laminated menu tucked behind the napkin dispenser.

      Ronni flipped over the coffee mug in front of Grace. “This is strong, bold and hot.” She filled the mug nearly to the rim.

      “Great.” Grace dumped four packets of sugar into the steaming drink.

      “Always said a woman likes her coffee the way she likes her men. I guess you like ’em a little on the sweet side, too.”

      “Sometimes.” Grace took her first sip—gulp, actually—and it burned her tongue and all the way down her throat, but when it hit her stomach, her entire body sighed.

      Ronni, about ten years older than Grace, had strawberry-blond hair and eyes the exact color of Rafe’s cobalt blue.

      “Are you two related?” Grace blurted without thinking. “Sorry. I’ve met people all over the world. Until Rafe, I’d never met anyone with eyes his particular shade of blue. They’re quite striking and unforgettable.”

      Okay, she’d said way too much. She downed another mouthful of coffee before the lack of caffeine loosened her filter again.

      “Ronni’s my cousin,” Rafe said.

      “Nice to meet you.” Grace extended her hand.

      Ronni wiped her fingers on the half apron tied around her waist and accepted Grace’s handshake. The deep lines around the waitress’s eyes and mouth spoke of a hard life, or hard living. Either way, she wasn’t as happy as her generous smile intimated. “Same here.”

      “I don’t remember seeing you