“When you put it like that,” Bailey said again, amazed at the different perspective Dani had on the situation.
“I’m telling you, I’m right about this.”
“I almost went to them yesterday,” Bailey confessed. “But then Will brought my guests to the attic and I’d just seen…everything. Felt everything they were feeling.”
“The connection you mentioned—do you think that’s the tether Kaya was talking about?”
Bailey nodded. “They chased after me, but I wouldn’t talk to them. I couldn’t.”
She’d never forget it, though. The shifting. All that gorgeous, bare skin.
“You aren’t busy right now. I’m here and so is Ava. Maybe you need to do something about that. After you shower and put on sexy underwear.”
“I do need to take them the trunk,” Bailey said thoughtfully. “Stan the ghost wanted Cam to have it.”
“Ghosts. I still can’t believe it. But that settles it.” Dani smacked the bed and got to her feet. “Go make your delivery, and while you’re there, maybe you can have an honest conversation about where you stand with them before all the epic, marathon sex you were planning on having.”
Anxiety replaced her anticipation. “What if there’s no way to make it work?”
What if she had to let them go?
“If you want to, you’ll find a way, Bailey. It’s what you do.”
Chapter Thirteen
Cam stood by his office windows, holding the potted cactus Bailey had left here, clinging to it like a lovesick idiot. Yesterday’s revelations had kept him up most of the night, and now he was watching the morning sun set the red rocks on fire, still at a loss.
Despite his lifestyle, Cam was a creature of habit and a fan of certainty. Day followed night, seasons changed, he loved Davide and he was a wolf who would never lead a pack of his own.
He’d carved out a life around those simple truths. It wasn’t perfect, but it had worked out pretty damn well for the last thirty years. He’d thought it was all he needed, until he bought the inn and came to Sedona.
He wasn’t a desert wolf. So how was it that this place felt more like home than anywhere he’d ever been? Bailey wasn’t the only reason. His grandfather had felt the same pull. But then, his mate had been here when he arrived as well. Two women, over seventy years apart, both mated to Locke wolves, both living at the inn surrounded by sacred land that had no pack.
Fate? Or Stax picking his right-hand alpha?
Alpha. He’d been running from the word all his life. Cam had never known what it meant to be pack. His grandfather had left days after he was born and he’d been raised in the aftermath, living with the repercussions of that decision. It was one of the reasons Stax believed he was perfect for the job.
The coyote had found them after their confrontation with Bailey to finish their conversation, and to spell out what he wanted from Cam.
“For humans and shifters alike, this is a place of refuge, meant for healing and realization. Meant to be temporary. Shifter packs are static and unbending as a rule. Living here would take a different kind of pack leader, one who could adapt and be open to all. You’ve taken in our lost ones before, Alpha Locke. You’re a shifter who loves a human. A wolf who loves a lynx. You understand this changing world and how to protect other shifters from it and themselves. You don’t have to accept it, but I believe you are one of the few capable of the responsibility.”
A shifter who loved a human—another certainty he’d had dismantled. He’d believed it was impossible for him to love someone else the way he loved Davide. It wasn’t the same—it couldn’t be—but he couldn’t deny his love for Bailey anymore. Or that he wouldn’t give anything to make her their mate.
But he’d hurt her. They hadn’t—he had.
When they’d chased after her, all their emotions had been intensified by the link, and Cam had come closer than he ever had before to giving himself over to his wolf. Feeling her confusion and pain, viewing it as a rejection, he’d nearly thrown her over his shoulder and taken the choice out of her hands.
Thankfully, he’d had enough sanity left to let her go. She wouldn’t have forgiven him for putting her guests in danger, and he would never have forgiven himself for forcing the issue.
The last memory she shared before she blocked them had humbled him, giving him more of a window into her past than the story Stax had told them. A human girl who’d survived her mother abandoning her and, instead of allowing life to harden her, had chosen to make her own family. Grow her own garden. As much as he wasn’t Calvin Locke, she also wasn’t Stacy Wagner. They’d both chosen to be something more.