Grayden bit down on his lower lip and tried to push all that aside in order to finish the work. It was late—almost quittin’ time—and there was a beer at The Shifty Cat with his name on it.

  Even if Patrice made him serve drinks tonight so she and Hunt could have some time alone, he’d do it if it meant getting out of this heat. He’d felt the angry stares of his crew all day. Fuck it. He could use some time away.

  The saw was loud and whining in his ear so he didn’t hear the footsteps approach but all at once, he sensed a body behind him. He cut the saw and whirled, coming face to face with Ryker.

  “This just got delivered for you,” Ryker said. He held out a large, flat envelope and nodded to the car disappearing down the dirt road that led back to the highway. It was white. Some sort of hybrid sedan bull shit. Just before it disappeared around the bend, he caught sight of the Timber Falls courts logo on the side.

  “From the legal system,” Ryker confirmed with a shrug that said he didn’t know any more than that.

  Grayden set his saw aside and took the envelope, opening it just as Hunt and the others crowded around. Most of them held water bottles and looked a lot cooler than he felt. Assholes were all standing back and watching him work.

  He ignored them and pulled out the thick sheet of official papers, scanning the top one fast.

  “Well?” Beck demanded when he didn’t answer fast enough.

  “No fucking way,” Grayden said, shaking his head as he finished reading and then started over for a second time.

  “What does it say?” Warner asked, trying to lean over Ryker’s shoulder to see for himself. “Are they adding jackass to the list of charges?”

  “Haha,” Grayden said drily. “And no. They’re dropping the charges,” he said, disbelief coloring his words. He read through again, though, and it sure as hell sounded like that’s what it said.

  Hunt held out his hand. “May I?” he asked.

  Grayden handed the papers over. Everyone waited—much more patiently this time. When Hunt was done, he looked up and the surprise in his expression made it clear he hadn’t been behind this. “You’ll get the charges dropped in exchange for community service,” Hunt said.

  “And good behavior,” Anchor pointed out, reading over Hunt’s shoulder with a growing frown. “This says if you get into any more trouble before your community service hours are completed, the charges stand and you get the maximum sentence.”

  “Which is what?” Warner asked.

  “Life in prison being someone’s bitch,” Beck said and Ryker and Warner snorted.

  Grayden glowered at him. “The only bitch I see here is you,” he said, dropping the chainsaw and taking a step forward.

  “Whoa, hold the fuck up,” Anchor said, stepping in front of him. But it was Hunt’s voice that stopped them.

  “Guys, I need a minute alone with Gray.” Hunt’s eyes flashed once but otherwise, he didn’t move. He didn’t have to. The very air around them crackled with alpha authority.

  One by one, with Beck going last, they all filed back to the trucks and coolers. Beck shot an angry glare at Grayden, his lip curling with the promise of settling their match later. Grayden ripped his gaze away and forced his eyes to Hunt.

  “You’re out of control, man,” Hunt said quietly.

  Grayden was a little surprised at the calm words. He’d expected Hunt to roar, maybe even shift and take a chunk out of him. It’d been stupid to egg Beck on like that, even for Grayden.

  “I know, shit,” Grayden said, running a hand over his unruly hair and stepping back. He shook his head and kicked at some dry leaves. “I don’t know what my problem is lately. It’s like I can’t help the urge to fight or piss people off.”

  “I think I know,” Hunt said and Grayden stopped kicking leaves to stare at his alpha.

  “Well? What is it?” he asked, desperation coloring his words now.

  “Your mating call,” Hunt said grimly and Grayden could only stare at him for a minute.

  When he found his voice, he shook his head vehemently. “No, no, that’s not it. That’s the last thing I need right now.”

  “What you need and what your bear needs aren’t always the same thing,” Hunt said wryly. “Believe me, I know. And I know what it’s like to have your mating call awaken and try to ignore or deny it.” Grayden opened his mouth, intent on arguing this some more, but Hunt cut him off, poking a stiff finger against his chest. “I did exactly what you’re doing for a long time. I only just gave in to it recently and if your call for a mate is anything like mine, it’s exactly why your bear is so pissed all the time. I know this, Grayden. Trust me.”

  “I didn’t see you losing your shit and fighting all the time. Challenging and insulting our brothers,” he said, gesturing toward where Beck still stood glaring at them from the truck.

  “No, but my bear wasn’t already a fighter. So, it spilled over into you guys and made you all rougher. Part of your urge to brawl is my fault, Gray. I’m sorry about that.”

  Grayden stared hard at Hunt for a long moment, willing his alpha to take it all back. To say he was wrong, that there was some other explanation for all this. Finally, when Hunt didn’t do that, Grayden hung his head, rubbing the back of his neck.

  “I can’t take a mate, Hunt. I’m not cut out for that shit. I’m not… good for a mate.”

  “Your bear is ready, Gray. It’s yourself you don’t believe in,” Hunt said and Grayden’s heart leapt.

  For the first time, he realized the truth in Hunt’s words. When the anger cleared, he recognized his bear’s real need. A mate. Affection. A woman to love and protect. His bear did want that, desperately. It was Grayden who was terrified to get it. So he covered it all up with the fights.

  “Fuck,” he breathed as the awareness washed over him.

  Hunt simply nodded, still looking grim. Grayden couldn’t blame him. The idea of Grayden taking a mate in the middle of this shit-storm he was currently in wasn’t exactly going to be easy.

  “Because your mating call is awakened, I need you to be …. Careful. You can’t just take a woman to bed now,” Hunt warned and Grayden nodded, waving his hand.

  “I know, man. I know all that. Sex will claim her. I’ll keep it in my pants.”

  “And talk to me before deciding anything about anyone,” Hunt said and Grayden nodded.

  “Yeah.” He sighed.

  “And no more fights.”

  “No more fights,” Grayden echoed, his thoughts drifting to Rachel. She was the only woman he’d been this attracted to in ages. Maybe ever. But he couldn’t bring himself to tell Hunt that just now. It’s not like she was their biggest fan and after the way he’d come on to her in the interrogation room last week…it hadn’t helped matters.

  He couldn’t believe she’d allowed the charges to be dropped in exchange for community service. “Let me see those papers again,” he said.

  Hunt handed them back and Grayden flipped past the first one this time, curious about the rest. The second page was the contract outlining all the charges that would actually stick if he fucked this up. He flipped past it and then froze as he read over the 3rd and final page. This one stated the location of the site where he’d be expected to complete his community service: Timber Falls Women’s Shelter.

  “Fuck me,” he groaned and for the first time since getting the news, he wished he could just be charged and sentenced to years behind bars instead.

  “What is it?” Hunt asked. Grayden held up the paperwork and Hunt scanned it. “I can’t do this,” Grayden said before Hunt had finished reading.

  “Grayden, you have to. This is good news for you,” Hunt began but Grayden barely heard him.

  His bear was doing a fucking happy dance inside and underneath that, the anger and agitation was returning fast. “Man, you don’t get it. Did you read it? Did you see where they’ve assigned me to show up for this community outreach?” He shoved the papers at Hunt and paced away. Maybe a brawl with Beck was a good idea after all.

  “It says Timber Falls Women’s Shelter,” Hunt said.

  Grayden groaned again. “Exactly!”

  “Gray, I know after what happened to your mom, this might be difficult,” Hunt began but Grayden cut him off.

  “It has nothing to do with that. You can’t expect me to spend my weekends and evenings with a bunch of desperate woman looking for someone to protect or care for them! My bear will eat that shit up. I’ll be mated to some broad before the end of the first day. We have to change this,” Grayden said. “Ask for something else. Anything else.”

  “We can’t do that,” Hunt said.

  “Why not?”

  “Because at the very bottom of the letter it says all of this is to be overseen and approved by the woman who owns the shelter. And I suspect now, that all of this is her doing to begin with.”

  “Who?” Grayden said. “What are you talking about?”

  “Did you see the name of the contact you’ll report to at the shelter?” Hunt asked.

  “Not really,” Grayden admitted. Hunt held up the paperwork and Grayden zeroed in on the name, finally. His stomach dropped as he read the name. Rachel Hawkins, Owner & Director. “Rachel owns the shelter?”

  “I do remember Patrice mentioning it a while back and if my suspicions are correct, Patrice herself is probably the one behind this turn of events. I know they had lunch last week and Patrice came home smug about something she wouldn’t tell me,” Hunt said. “Either way, Rachel isn’t someone we can afford to piss off. She’s a cop, Gray, and one who still sees us as bad news.”

  Grayden ran a hand down his face. Of course. Patrice and Rachel were best friends. Patrice had somehow convinced her to “help” Grayden, not realizing this was the worst possible option for him right now. As if volunteering at a women’s shelter wasn’t bad enough, he’d be doing it alongside Rachel. The one woman his bear was going mad over. And the only woman Hunt would probably forbid him from pursuing.

  “You have to do this, Gray. Not just for you but for the whole crew. Rachel already isn’t our biggest fan. If you don’t do it, she’ll report you to the courts. And if those charges stick, if people in Timber Falls find out about your fights, it’ll only be a matter of time before the town turns against the rest of us. You have to do this.”

  Grayden sighed. Hunt was right. He had to do it. He just hoped he could survive it without doing something stupid like claiming Rachel Hawkins in the process.

  CHAPTER NINE

  RACHEL

  Rachel stared at the papers in front of her until her vision swam with the numbers printed on the quarterly statements. Running the Timber Falls Women’s Shelter had started out as a gift. Something beautiful to come out of something so awful after her attack in college. Watching the women here transform themselves as they found the strength to leave awful situations and start a new life was a miracle. But lately, it felt like she was digging herself into a hole. Or rowing against a stormy tide. Too many women to help, not enough resources. And with her day job taking up so much time…she needed help. Bad. She didn’t exactly have a list of applicants beating the door down to work for next to nothing.

  She had to admit, Patrice’s idea to put Grayden to work here still made her nervous. She had no idea how the women would react to seeing a man around after all they’d been through—but she needed the help to the point of desperation. She couldn’t say it didn’t work in her favor to have him doing community service here for a while. And she couldn’t lie to herself any longer either.

  She lay awake at night thinking of him. When she finally drifted off, she dreamed of his stubbled jaw and strong arms pressed against her, holding her. Protecting her. Grayden had become a serious itch and after ten years of steering clear of that sort of temptation, Rachel really wanted a good scratch.

  Knuckles rapped against her open office door and she looked up to find Grayden himself staring back at her. His gray-blue eyes were deep pools of uncertainty and, if she wasn’t mistaken, outright lust. She knew because she felt the same desire pooling between her thighs thanks to that hooded stare he always gave her. He wore flannel, despite the June heat outside, his sleeves rolled to his elbows, revealing massive forearms corded with muscle. The top button was left open, revealing a hint of the patch of chest hair she still remembered from the night she’d arrested him, shirtless and gleaming with sweat.

  God, the man oozed sex.

  “You’re late,” she said to cover up her own nerves. She swiveled in her chair, busying herself with finding some paperwork. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him amble over and lower himself into the chair across the thrift store desk from her.

  “Here, you can fill these out,” she said, thrusting some paperwork at him.

  “Nice to see you too,” he said, and his tone was light. Unruffled. Not like her, a ball of nerves and jitters.

  He picked up a pen from her desk amid the piles of random papers, pens, and a few rubber bands, and began filling out the form. She studied the top of his brown, unruly mop of hair until he glanced up through thick brown lashes. She flushed at being caught but Grayden only gave her a small smile. Like a secret only for them.

  Rachel wondered what it would be like to press her lips to that smile. Maybe she could ask him to just keep it a secret⁠—

  “This what you needed?” he asked, dropping the pen and handing the papers back a moment later.

  Rachel mentally shook herself. Dear Lord, she was a mess. In the days since she’d arrested Grayden, her fantasies and daydreams had only gotten worse. She thought if she stayed away from him, she could shove him from her mind, but it hadn’t worked. If anything, it was far worse. And now, with him sitting here in front of her, she realized her fantasies hadn’t even done him justice. He was much better than anything she’d imagined.

  “Yes,” she said but it came out hoarse. She cleared her throat, scanning the paper with his name, address, today’s date and time. The rest of it blurred as she struggled to get her bearings. “This is fine. You can fill it in anytime you clock in and out so we have a record.”

  “Sounds good,” he said easily, sitting back to study her. She felt it but she didn’t meet his gaze.

  Instead, she rose, brushing the imaginary lint from her shorts and cotton blouse. Grayden made a noise and she finally looked over at him. He was staring at her bare legs, eyes narrowed. “What is it?” she asked, looking down at herself.

  She frowned at the fading bruise on her thigh. She’d run down a mugger four days ago and he’d elbowed her when she’d finally caught up and knocked him over. But the bruise was almost healed. She’d finally worn shorts today because of it.

  “You’re hurt,” he said simply.

  “Mugger,” she said, determined to ignore the strange temptation to explain herself to him.

  He cocked his head sideways, still blocking her path. “Do you like your job?” he asked.

  “I like stopping bad things from happening to good people,” she said and then blinked, surprised. She hadn’t meant to say that but the words had just sort of come out.

  Grayden nodded as if he’d already known the answer. “You should wear shorts more often,” he murmured, startling her with his sudden subject change. “You look …” Grayden finally blinked and looked away, scowling.

  “I look what?” Rachel prompted.

  “Nothing.” Grayden rose, the chair scraping as he shoved to his feet. “What’s next?”

  “Um, I’ll give you the tour,” she said, leading the way out of the office and into the common areas.

  She spent the next half hour showing him the facility. Not many of the women were around. Most of them were in evening classes to learn new skills that would make them more competitive in the job market. Rachel had a special arrangement with the community college so the women could go after work. She showed Grayden their rec room, day care area, clinic, and finally, the kitchen where the women volunteered on a rotation basis to help prepare meals for the work. She was surprised to find him listening intently to the various programs and schedules she’d instituted here, even asking questions from time to time.

  At the end of the tour, they stood in the dining room, the sounds of pots and pans and chatter leaking out from the half-open kitchen door.

  “This place is impressive, Rachel,” Grayden said, looking around and nodding in a way that made her heart swell with pride.

  “It’s not much,” she admitted. “There are cracks in the ceiling from old leaks and most of the rooms still don’t have the furniture we need. But it’s safe. And that’s what the women need most.”

  “You do this all on your own then?”

  She shrugged. “The women all help out around the house.”

  A voice from the kitchen rose suddenly as a female voice yelled out. A pot crashed against something. Grayden didn’t hesitate. He ran for the kitchen and Rachel followed. Inside, they found an overturned pot on the counter, cut veggies spilling out on to the counter and floor.

  An older woman in a plain black skirt and yellow tee was holding her fingers in her hand and wincing.

  “Starla?” Rachel called but Grayden blocked her path, approaching the woman slowly with his hand out.

  Starla looked up at Grayden, eyes wide and suspicious. Rachel could see from here the way the woman tensed up.

  Grayden slowed and then stopped a few feet away, his hands still out. “I’m Grayden, a friend of Rachel’s. Can I see?” he asked in a tone Rachel had never heard him use before. His voice was soft, gentle and reassuring, and Rachel saw the tension ebb from Starla’s shoulders.

  Starla looked up at Grayden, her saucer eyes shining, and she nodded. Wordlessly, she held out her left hand and put it in Grayden’s. Blood ran from a cut on her index finger. Grayden frowned at it and then at the knife that lay tossed aside on the countertop.

  “We need to get pressure on this, okay?” Grayden asked and Starla nodded. She glanced down at her finger and then bit her lip and looked away. Her face paled.