No White Knight

Even if that wolf savages her.

God.

I can’t stop worrying.

Pacing.

Scowling.

I try her number a couple more times, only to get that voicemail box is full message that makes me want to strangle whoever made those recordings in their semi-mechanical, overly polite voice that sounds so pleasantly disinterested in my mini panic attack.

That voice is a total asshat.

I growl to myself, glaring at my phone, and then try Holt.

He’s not answering either.

Dammit, is everyone in my life trying to drive me nuts right about now?

Sierra could be in danger. I can’t wait for Holt to finish work and come back.

I shove my feet into my boots and climb into my truck, heading straight for the construction site in the valley.

Except as I pass through town on my way to the feeder road that leads out there, I go by The Nest and see a familiar shape.

Holt’s new—well, new-ish, beat-up and dusty—truck in the parking lot.

I turn around, whip in and park next to him, then climb out and shove the door to the café open.

The moment I walk in, I know something’s up.

There’s a thick tension in the room, like everyone’s watching a show that’s building up to this big climactic finish and getting people all breathless waiting.

As soon as I lay eyes on Holt, I realize I ain’t wrong.

He’s squared off with Sally Jenkins.

Sally and I haven’t ever gotten along much.

She’s not a bad gal, just…clashing personalities.

Plus, I don’t ever want to get tangled in the he-said-she-said mess that seems to follow her around. She’s got a tendency to not want men unless they’re with someone else, and I know at least three marriages that ended because of her.

I get that she’s lonely.

There’s some kind of void she’s trying to fill.

But I ain’t happy to see her zeroing in on Holt when I know damn well the rumors about us have been going wild around town.

Now she’s right here with her hands in his.

And I’m standing in the doorway frozen but simmering.

I don’t think anyone even notices I’m there. They’re too focused on Holt and Sally, waiting to see what’s gonna happen. There’s a vulture greed to it that I hate.

Like they know Holt’s reputation is set in stone.

They think they know what’s about to happen here.

I don’t want to believe it.

I want to believe in him.

And that’s when I realize, he knows I’m here.

His gaze flicks to me over Sally’s shoulder, those sunset-dark eyes pleading, like he’s asking me to stay back.

To let him handle it.

I don’t know what there is to handle, but hell.

I feel like I’m making a big decision here.

To not butt in or get all stompy and territorial because I’m trusting him. And that scares the ever-loving crap out of me.

But I don’t say anything.

I just nod subtly, clenching my fists, holding my ground. Holt’s got his lips parted like he was about to talk and I stopped him, but now he starts again.

“Sal,” he says—and he’s talking to her that same gentle way he talks to me when I’m hurting, that way I didn’t even know he could, except instead of intimate it’s just sad. “I know we had a thing a long time ago. It was just that, a thing. We were kids. We didn’t know what we were doing, who we were, or what we were feeling. I’m sorry if I made you feel like I was leading you on. Like I could be the man you need.” He shakes his head, squeezing her hands. “I can’t be the one to help you find it. I’m the dude who hurt you in the first place. All I can say is, I’m sorry. And all I can say is no because I won’t hurt you that way again. You deserve better.”

It’s not something I’d ever thought would come out of Holt’s mouth.

It’s mature, thoughtful, kind, and restrained.

Sally’s right there with her cleavage so far out you can almost see nipple, throwing herself at him when I know damn well he’s got a libido you can spark with an inch of bare skin.

But he’s choosing not to respond to it.

Instead, he’s thinking about what’s best for her.

I’m realizing now I never knew Holt at all from my first impressions.

I’m also realizing I’m proud of him.

Sally still hasn’t noticed I’m here, watching the whole thing go down.

Hell, she doesn’t seem to care that she’s got an audience and people are gonna be talking about her like a dog. I feel a little bad for her with the way her shoulders slump and she just stands there, quiet as a mouse with her fingers loose in his.

Until she smiles, this heartbreakingly sad face that makes me kinda wonder if she’s a lot like Holt.

There’s more to her than her reputation says, but sometimes she just gets fed up and decides to be who everyone thinks she is.