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“I’m yours for the weekend,” says Jake, his grin widening.

I try not to read too much into those words. If Jake only knew the thoughts running through my mind, he’d turn this car around.

Nope, not going there,I tell myself, tearing my gaze away from his stupidly gorgeous face.

Whatever Jake felt or didn’t feel for me is in the past. I have to stay in the present and protect my heart.

CHAPTER FOUR

ELENA

It’sa short drive from my childhood home to the hotel where the wedding will take place. Jake and I pass the time getting caught up on each other’s lives. He asks how I’m liking Boston and which dance companies are at the top of my list for after I graduate. I ask about his fight training.

Apparently, Jake’s had to cut back since he took a job in private security. His boss is the new alpha of the Red Feather Lake pack near Fort Collins and works security for other high-ranking wolf shifters.

It’s a little hard for me to imagine Jake putting on a suit and going to work for this security firm, but it sounds as though he enjoys it.

We pull up in the circle drive of a swanky hotel, and Jake drums his fingers on the steering wheel. The SUV in front of us is a sleek Mercedes, and all the other vehicles are later-model luxury cars.

A valet appears to park Jake’s Jeep, and a crease knits his brow. I’m not sure if he just doesn’t like the thought ofparting with his precious Jeep or if he’s feeling self-conscious.

I certainly feel underdressed as we waltz into the lobby. A giant vase of lilies is situated inside the tall glass doors, and the whole place smells expensive.

“Good afternoon,” says an elegant woman behind the front desk. “Checking in?”

“Yes.”

Jake follows me over to her, toting my suitcase, garment bag, his backpack, and a second garment bag that must contain his clothes for the wedding. He turned down the valet’s offer to have the bags brought up to our room, but now I’m worried that schlepping all our stuff through the fancy lobby makes us stick out like a sore thumb.

“We’re here for the Rodriguez-Blanski wedding.”

“Ah, yes,” says the woman, smiling warmly.

“Reservations for Elena Cabrera Garcia and Jake Carson.”

The woman’s fingers clatter over the keyboard. “Yes, I have the reservation for Mr. Carson right here.”

I smile and shift my weight awkwardly from one foot to the other. I know Raf called and paid for Jake’s room, but it still feels weird.

The woman prints out something for Jake to sign and then types my name in. “Cabrera Garcia, Cabrera Garcia . . .”

“You might check under ‘Garcia,’” I say, trying to be helpful.

The woman grimaces and then glances to her left before leaning forward over the desk. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I have a note in my system that says my managerdidtry to contact you.” She lowers her voice to just above a whisper. “Your card was declined when we tried to place the hold for your room. Since we were unable to reach you, we could not hold that reservation.”

My throat goes suddenly very dry, and my cheeks heat with embarrassment. I vaguely remember getting a few calls from a number I didn’t recognize, but I assumed they were spam calls.

“I am so sorry,” I murmur. “Let me just —” My fingers fumble for my wallet, but I stop with my credit card halfway out.

Before I left Boston, I took my car to the shop for a funny little shimmy it did whenever I tried to accelerate, and I’d just charged twenty-five hundred dollars worth of repairs on this card.

My stomach sinks. My credit-card limit is three thousand, and I use this card to pay for groceries and gas. It’s practically maxed out.

“Just a sec,” I say, my bottom lip quivering as I stare at the other cards in my wallet.

I work two part-time jobs at dance studios in the city to pay my expenses, but it’s nearly the end of the month. I have exactly forty-seven dollars in my bank account, so giving her my debit card is out of the question.

I’m about to make some excuse to leave so I can figure out my next step, but Jake’s warm, rough fingers encircle my wrist. “It’s all right,” he says. “I’ve got this.”