Expected—”
She interrupted him. “Why you? Why not the developer?”
“Oh, I’m sure the developer gets thousands. But some people know I’m the one in control of the safety of the building. And people will say anything to grab my attention.
Including lie.”
“Lie about what?” Trace asked.
“Well, Friday I got an email from an anonymous source telling me the original construction was shoddy. Whoever it was said the builder cut corners to save money.
The email even itemized where I should look.”
Melinda gasped. “That’s serious, Keegan. And more than a little frightening. Have you called the sheriff’s office? Was anything valid?”
“No, he has not called.” Trace’s voice rose. “Why am I just now hearing about this?” His tone was clipped.
Keegan threw up his hands. “Hey, calm down. If I had a dollar for every email like that one, I wouldn’t need my day job at all. I only brought it up because that’s the first thing I have to do tomorrow—follow up on that one and check out its possible validity.
Do you have any idea how many hours I waste each week chasing dragons?”
Melinda relaxed marginally. “What if it’s not a hoax?”
“Then I’ll have an even bigger problem on my hands, and I’ll handle it. But I can’t call the sheriff’s office over every email.” He lifted his gaze to Trace. “You know how it is. The deputies on the reservation would run ragged if they got a call like that every day.”
“But this email is different, isn’t it?” she asked.
Keegan sighed. “Yeah.”
“How?” Trace asked.
“Anonymous. Pointed. Specific.” He released her hand and wiped his palms on his jeans.
“I have a bad feeling about this, Keegan. Are you sure it’s safe to poke around before you call the sheriff’s office? I could talk to some guys at the station. I know Corbin Archers. He’s a friend and a deputy.”
Keegan shook his head. “Actually, I need you to pretend we never had this conversation. The last thing I want is for anyone to suspect you or Trace have any knowledge of it.”
“But—”
He wrapped a hand around her neck and hauled her face close to kiss her on the lips. “I’ll handle it. I promise. Just keep this to yourself. Please.”
“Keegan, keep me informed. I don’t like this any more than Melinda does.”
“Promise.” Keegan pulled her into his side and held her tight.
They rode the last few minutes in silence.
“You’re so stressed, baby.” Trace stroked a hand down her cheek.
She hoped he was watching the road. She nodded. The tension wasn’t something she could hide. To try and deny it would be futile. But the subject was closed for now.
Finally, Trace pulled up to her shop. She smiled as she glanced at the entrance. She smiled every time she arrived. She loved her shop and took great pride in making it inviting. Through the front windows, it caught the eye with the colorful displays she always kept in the window—blankets, beadwork, and fine leather clothing drew customers into her store. It was nestled in a strip between a small furniture store and a hair dresser. The perfect location in her opinion.
Keegan opened the door, jumped down, turned, and lifted her out. So fucking polite. And so familiar. She loved that about him. And hated it.
She held his biceps and set her forehead on his chest, taking a deep breath.
“Let’s go inside.” He gripped her waist. “I’m excited to see your place, meet your friends.”
She let him take her hand and lead her to the door.
When they walked in, her hand in Keegan’s and Trace’s palm at the small of her back, both her employees glanced up.
Sherri and Liz were smiling, but their faces immediately changed when they realized the implications of the trio before them. They were both shifters. The imminent mating wouldn’t escape their attention.
Sherri jumped from her perch on a stool at the cash register and clapped her hands.
She rounded the counter at an incredible
She interrupted him. “Why you? Why not the developer?”
“Oh, I’m sure the developer gets thousands. But some people know I’m the one in control of the safety of the building. And people will say anything to grab my attention.
Including lie.”
“Lie about what?” Trace asked.
“Well, Friday I got an email from an anonymous source telling me the original construction was shoddy. Whoever it was said the builder cut corners to save money.
The email even itemized where I should look.”
Melinda gasped. “That’s serious, Keegan. And more than a little frightening. Have you called the sheriff’s office? Was anything valid?”
“No, he has not called.” Trace’s voice rose. “Why am I just now hearing about this?” His tone was clipped.
Keegan threw up his hands. “Hey, calm down. If I had a dollar for every email like that one, I wouldn’t need my day job at all. I only brought it up because that’s the first thing I have to do tomorrow—follow up on that one and check out its possible validity.
Do you have any idea how many hours I waste each week chasing dragons?”
Melinda relaxed marginally. “What if it’s not a hoax?”
“Then I’ll have an even bigger problem on my hands, and I’ll handle it. But I can’t call the sheriff’s office over every email.” He lifted his gaze to Trace. “You know how it is. The deputies on the reservation would run ragged if they got a call like that every day.”
“But this email is different, isn’t it?” she asked.
Keegan sighed. “Yeah.”
“How?” Trace asked.
“Anonymous. Pointed. Specific.” He released her hand and wiped his palms on his jeans.
“I have a bad feeling about this, Keegan. Are you sure it’s safe to poke around before you call the sheriff’s office? I could talk to some guys at the station. I know Corbin Archers. He’s a friend and a deputy.”
Keegan shook his head. “Actually, I need you to pretend we never had this conversation. The last thing I want is for anyone to suspect you or Trace have any knowledge of it.”
“But—”
He wrapped a hand around her neck and hauled her face close to kiss her on the lips. “I’ll handle it. I promise. Just keep this to yourself. Please.”
“Keegan, keep me informed. I don’t like this any more than Melinda does.”
“Promise.” Keegan pulled her into his side and held her tight.
They rode the last few minutes in silence.
“You’re so stressed, baby.” Trace stroked a hand down her cheek.
She hoped he was watching the road. She nodded. The tension wasn’t something she could hide. To try and deny it would be futile. But the subject was closed for now.
Finally, Trace pulled up to her shop. She smiled as she glanced at the entrance. She smiled every time she arrived. She loved her shop and took great pride in making it inviting. Through the front windows, it caught the eye with the colorful displays she always kept in the window—blankets, beadwork, and fine leather clothing drew customers into her store. It was nestled in a strip between a small furniture store and a hair dresser. The perfect location in her opinion.
Keegan opened the door, jumped down, turned, and lifted her out. So fucking polite. And so familiar. She loved that about him. And hated it.
She held his biceps and set her forehead on his chest, taking a deep breath.
“Let’s go inside.” He gripped her waist. “I’m excited to see your place, meet your friends.”
She let him take her hand and lead her to the door.
When they walked in, her hand in Keegan’s and Trace’s palm at the small of her back, both her employees glanced up.
Sherri and Liz were smiling, but their faces immediately changed when they realized the implications of the trio before them. They were both shifters. The imminent mating wouldn’t escape their attention.
Sherri jumped from her perch on a stool at the cash register and clapped her hands.
She rounded the counter at an incredible
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