“Yeah.” Emma had stopped wondering how everyone knew where she lived. “How did he look at me, then?”

Mirabel shifted the car into park. Her legs tilted to the side, and she faced Emma. “Like you matter. You’re more than a quick ride.”

Emma laughed. “You’ve got a way with words.”

Mirabel turned more in her seat toward Emma. “You don’t get it. Half the unmated females of the county want Flint.”

“Just half?” Emma pulled on the sides of his shirt, lining up the plaids.

“Yeah, and the other half wants a second shot with him.” Mirabel stared out the windshield.

Emma slapped her knee. “Well, I guess I should make an appointment to check for an STD, then. Thanks for the ride.” Emma put her hand on the door.

Mirabel held Emma’s arm. “Stop, that’s coming off wrong. Really, my sister is the one with all the words. What I’m trying to say is Flint is more than a fuck. He’s a good guy. He never does a second round with a female. But if my car got stuck or some shithead was hitting on me down at the Easy Rabbit, I could call him and he would come help me out. You know he’s a genius like his brother, right?”

Emma sat back in the seat, her forehead scrunched. She shook her head. His brother lived in New York, or at least Flint had been to New York with him. That was how she’d lost her dining room table last night and gained new room decor. “Genius?”

“He didn’t tell you? That’s weird. I thought, with the way he was in the hospital and then when I saw you just now . . .”

“Tell me what?”

Mirabel opened her mouth, then put her finger over her lips and shook her head.

“Goddess. Don’t you lead with that and then backpedal.”

“Right.” Mirabel laughed. “You remind me of Flint’s sister, Reagan.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Emma liked Flint’s other sisters.

“Flint invented this doohickey for fire department ladders. It’s saved a lot of firefighters’ lives. He doesn’t charge any money for it for fire department use. But then he changed it, and now every painting company out there uses it to hold their cans or something. I don’t know. He’s made millions on it. But he still lives out there in the woods in that house no one has ever seen the inside of.”

Emma glanced at the impossibly clean floor mats of Mirabel’s car.

“What the hell? He took you into his house?” Mirabel slapped her hand on the steering wheel.

“It’s not some sort of secret society, Mirabel. It’s a cabin in the woods.” A very nice cabin with enough magical power stored in it to blow up the whole state, which she had no doubt was why he hadn’t brought anyone there.

“Whatever the two of you were fighting about, that’s your business. I hope that you make the right decision. No one’s perfect. Not Flint Larsen and⁠—”

Emma had to get out of here. “And not me. Thanks for the ride and the chat. I appreciate both. Have a good night at work.”

She let out a long sigh as she watched Mirabel drive up the hill. What did new Emma want? That was the question.

28

Flint watched Mirabel drive off with Emma. He was going to have words with her. Instead, he turned around and pushed his way into the Pick-n-Pay. If he couldn’t talk to Mirabel, he would do the almost identical next best thing.

“Fucker.” Marley didn’t lift her head from the copy of ShifterToday she read behind the counter.

“What does Mirabel have against me?” When he’d thought the words, they’d been harsh, but they came out of him like an anguished groan of a hungry teenager.

“Mirabel? What makes you think I’m not Mirabel?”

“Shut it. I’m asking a real question.” Because seeing Mirabel drive away with the closest thing he’d ever had to a girlfriend—with the girl he . . . loved . . . Fuck.

“You want a list?” Marley played with the zipper of her black hoodie, but her eyes didn’t leave the page.

“She knew what she was getting into.” Flint paced in front of the round tubs of candy, which were still a penny.

“You are such a fuckhead. You know that? She doesn’t like you like that, not anymore. But she was going on about you last week. How you were reacting to that witch. Emily.”

Flint glanced around nervously, but the store was empty. “Emma.”

“Emma. Relax, there’s no one in here, and even if there was, the whole town knows the story. A fireball came raging out of the old school. That’s a little hard to cover up. Even with the chief concocting that bunch of bullshit.”

“She gave Emma a ride.” He glared at Marley.

Marley dropped the magazine on the counter. “What do you want, Flint? Do you have an actual question? Do you need some gum? I’m guessing you don’t need to buy any condoms.” She raised her eyebrows and smirked at him.

Flint blinked at her.

“You’re such a pocket rocket.” Her smirk twisted sideways. “I’m guessing it has nothing to do with you and a heck of a lot more to do with Emma asking Mirabel for a ride. And Mirabel, being a better person than either of us, took her. Now, are you going to buy something, or am I calling Spring Ridge PD to report you for loitering like my granddad used to?”

“It’s been a pleasure, as always, Marley.”

“Fuck off.” She picked up her magazine.

“Same to you.” Only he said it in the same tone you’d use to tell someone to have a nice day.

The wind was picking up. And so was his confusion. He’d intentionally scared her off, but it made him . . . furious, angry, lonely, enraged, and jealous of Mirabel. He was turning into a fickle teenager.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out, hoping it was Emma. But no luck.

Oak: Landed. I’ll be there in ten minutes.

Flint: It takes two hours to get from the city airport to here, if not longer.

Oak: Carter flew me in to a small airport nearby.

Flint rolled his eyes. His brother had the cash to do things like that too. And he might. He hadn’t checked his bank account recently. His product team had some deal with late night television direct sales, and they were taking his double harness clip product to the homeowner market.

Oak: Meet me at the building.

Flint sent Oak a thumbs up emoji. He wanted to leave his truck on Main Street. He needed the walk. Really, he needed a run in his fur, but he also didn’t want his truck ending up at the impound yard. And it would, because nothing gave the guys in blue more laughs than locking up pickup trucks with Hundsburg firefighter stickers in the windows.

He climbed in and slammed his hand on the steering wheel when the apple and cinnamon scent of Emma wafted from his skin. A low grumble from his wolf sat in his throat. The noise rumbled around his gut, the sensation alien to him.

He and his wolf weren’t two separate individuals. Some shifters had a problem switching back and forth. Their beast was a foreigner to them, something they fought to control. His brother had had that problem. He’d spent too much time in his skin making his millions.