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“I know,” she said quickly, stepping closer. “We are friends, and it’s never gone beyond that. I made sure he understood, or at least I tried to.”

“Yeah, well, maybe someone should remind him,” Rafe muttered, his glare still locked on the door Frisco had slammed behind him. “Because that look he gave you wasn’t a friend being disappointed. That was a man who thinks he’s owed something.”

She swallowed hard, her chest tight.

Rafe turned to her then, softer but no less intense. “I’m not trying to be the jealous guy, Billie Ann. But I’ve been around long enough to recognize when someone’s not hearing no.”

Her eyes met his, and something inside her ached—an old fear, wrapped in guilt and confusion. “I can handle myself, Rafe.”

“I know you can.” He reached out and gently touched her chin, tilting her face up toward him. “But you don’t have to. Not anymore. At least not alone.”

Something warm and unfamiliar moved through her chest, settling just behind her ribs. She gave a small nod, letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

“Okay,” she said softly. “Not alone.”

The words lingered between them, warm and full of promise. And yet, as soon as they left her lips, her eyes flickered back to the door Frisco had stormed through. A strange weight settled in her chest, a swirl of unease that didn’t quite match the comfort of Rafe’s touch.

She knew Frisco. Or at least, she thought she had. He wasn’t violent, not the kind of man who snapped or made threats, but that look had been something different. It had felt possessiveand dark, sending a chill down her spine that she couldn’t quite shake.

CHAPTER 14

Rafe leaned against the wall near the edge of the bar, arms crossed, his sharp gaze sweeping the room like a sentry on high alert. One eye stayed fixed on the slowly thinning crowd, and the other followed Billie Ann as she moved behind the bar with ease, chatting with customers and wiping down surfaces. Her smile was genuine, as if she wanted to hear every single word a person was saying.

He forced himself to take his eyes off her before he grabbed her and found a private place where he could make her his in all ways. Unfortunately, his gaze landed on Roger, Assjacket’s one and only Rabbit Shifter, who attempted something that could be generously described as dancing. The small dance floor hadn’t stood a chance. Roger bounced awkwardly in place, overly large ears twitching with the beat as he tried to hop in rhythm, nearly colliding with two drunk raccoon shifters doing something that looked like square dancing… badly.

A half-smile tugged at Rafe’s mouth. This town was insane, but he had always enjoyed his visits here.

A few minor scuffles had broken out over the last hour. Nothing serious, just the usual posturing that came with too much alcohol and too many egos packed into one small space. Rafe had handled them without breaking a sweat. A growled warning here, a firm shove there, and in true Shifter fashion, most of the offenders were soon laughing and buying each other rounds again.

That was the thing about Shifters. They burned hot and fast—anger, affection, pride— was all cranked to a higher setting. But once it was done, it was done. No grudges. Just another drink and a good story to tell the next day.

Still, Rafe kept his stance by the wall, watching. Waiting. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the crowd. Hell, he knew most of them, had fought beside a few in past scuffles. But Billie Ann was in the room, and that changed everything. His instincts were sharper now, protective in a way that went bone-deep.

She caught his eye again, a damp towel slung over one shoulder, her cheeks flushed from the heat of the bar and the buzz of activity. When she smiled at him, its warmth hit him like a punch. Damn, she was beautiful. And his Jaguar? The beast inside him practically purred.

Yeah. He’d handled fights, drunks, and even the occasional chaos from an over-excited moose shifter tonight. But the real challenge was not grabbing that woman, pulling her into his arms, and reminding her exactly what fate had planned for them.

And judging by the way she kept glancing back at him, her eyes flickering with something warm and curious, he wasn’t the only one feeling the pull.

“Seems like opening night was a success,” Mac said as he and Thorne walked up. Rafe had seen them enter earlier, making their rounds, talking to people. “Any trouble?”

“Nothing that wasn’t handled with a Jaguar growl,” Rafe said with a half grin, but then turned serious. “What do you guys know about this Frisco guy?”

“Crow Shifter?” Thorne asked with a frown.

“Yeah,” Rafe replied, scanning the remaining bar goers before glancing at Billie Ann, who was talking with Wicked and Zelda.

“Not much.” Thorne looked over his shoulder at where the Crow Shifters were together. “There are so many of them, it’s hard to get to know each one of them individually.”

Rafe looked at Mac, who was staring directly at him. “Did Davey ever come to you about issues with Frisco or any of the Crow Shifters?”

“No,” Mac replied, also glancing their way before looking back at Rafe. “Jack Crow takes care of all Crow Shifter business...unless?—”

“Unless there is an issue within,” Thorne said, then cursed. “Do you think this guy had something to do with Davey?”

“He has an unhealthy infatuation with Billie Ann. I saw it first-hand tonight.” Rafe shifted his gaze back to the Crows. “It was verified by Billie Ann when she told me that after she went to Lexington, Frisco constantly emailed, texted, and even showed up in Lexington trying to get her to come back.”

“What happened tonight?” Thorne asked, his eyes narrowing.