Page 14 of Fetch Me A Mate (Shifter Mates of Hollow Oak #1)
ROWAN
R owan arrived at the inn before dawn, his truck's headlights cutting through the pre-morning darkness.
He'd barely slept, his mind replaying every moment of the night before.
The taste of Diana's mouth. The way she'd arched beneath him on the hearth rug.
The look in her amber eyes when he'd walked away afterward like a damn coward.
He told himself he'd set boundaries today. Keep things professional. Focus on the work and ignore the way his wolf paced restlessly every time he thought about her.
The plan lasted exactly as long as it took Diana to appear in the doorway with coffee and one of those soft smiles that made his resolve crumble like rotted timber.
"Morning," she said, extending the mug toward him. "Thought you might need fuel."
"Thanks." He accepted the coffee, careful not to let their fingers brush. The memory of her skin was too fresh, too dangerous.
Boundaries, he reminded himself. Professional distance.
His wolf laughed at him.
"I'll be working on the second-floor landing today," he said, needing something concrete to focus on. "Should have the subflooring finished by noon."
"Perfect. I'll be downstairs if you need anything." She paused at the foot of the stairs. "Anything at all."
Rowan gripped his coffee mug tighter and watched her disappear up the stairs, then spent the next ten minutes staring at his work plans without seeing them.
By mid-morning, he'd managed to find his rhythm. The work was good, solid, requiring enough focus to keep his mind off the woman humming somewhere below. The new subfloor went in clean, each board fitting perfectly into place.
"How's it looking up there?"
Rowan glanced up to find Diana climbing the stairs with a plate of something that smelled like cinnamon and butter.
"Good progress," he said, accepting the plate. Fresh scones, still warm. "Twyla's?"
"Mine, actually. Found Miriam's recipe box last night." Diana settled onto the top step, close enough that he caught the scent of vanilla and tea in her hair. "Figured I should learn to bake for the inn."
"They're good." Better than good, actually. Light and flaky with just the right amount of sweetness.
"Thank you. I was nervous they'd turn out like hockey pucks."
"Trust yourself more." The words slipped out before he could stop them. "You've got good instincts."
Her smile was warm, genuine. "High praise from someone who builds things to last."
That smile. That was what did him in. Rowan found himself smiling back, his carefully constructed walls cracking like old plaster.
"What's next on the schedule?" Diana asked.
"Finish this section, then move to the electrical rough-in. Should be ready for inspection by Friday."
"Ahead of schedule."
"Work goes faster with proper motivation."
Diana's cheeks flushed pink, and Rowan realized he was leaning closer without conscious thought.
"Diana, I?—"
The front door opened, followed by the sound of familiar footsteps crossing the lobby. Twyla's voice drifted up from below, bright with poorly concealed excitement.
"Diana, honey, you up there? I brought muffins and gossip."
Diana rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Duty calls. Save some work for this afternoon?"
"Probably." Rowan watched her head downstairs, then returned to his subfloor with renewed focus. Or tried to. Twyla's voice carried clearly through the old building.
"So," Twyla was saying, "interesting storm last night."
"Very dramatic," Diana replied. "Lost power for hours."
"I heard. Also heard Rowan's truck left before dawn broke when Mrs. Simonson went to let her dog out."
Rowan's hammer missed the nail entirely, catching his thumb instead. He bit back a curse and sucked on the injured digit, straining to hear Diana's response.
"He stayed to make sure the tarps held," Diana said, her voice carefully neutral.
"Of course he did. Such a conscientious contractor." Twyla's tone suggested she wasn't buying it for a second. "Funny thing about small towns, honey. People notice when the lights come back on and there's still candlelight in the inn's front window."
Rowan closed his eyes. Mrs.Simonson was the town's unofficial information network. By lunch, half of Hollow Oak would know he'd spent the night.
"We were just talking," Diana said.
"I'm sure you were. Lots of talking happening by candlelight these days."
"Twyla."
"What? I think it's lovely."
Rowan's grip tightened on his hammer. He should go downstairs, put an end to this conversation before it spiraled further out of control. Instead, he found himself frozen, waiting to hear what Diana would say.
"It's complicated," Diana said finally.
"Best things usually are." Twyla's voice softened. "Just remember what I told you about wolves needing reasons to stay."
The conversation moved on to other topics, but Rowan couldn't focus. His wolf paced restlessly, pleased with the idea of the town seeing Diana as his, while the rational part of his mind catalogued all the ways this could go wrong.
By the time Diana returned upstairs, he'd worked himself into a state somewhere between arousal and panic.
"Everything okay?" she asked, studying his face. "You look tense."
"Town gossip," he said shortly.
"Ah." Diana settled back onto the step, her expression thoughtful. "Bothers you?"
"Doesn't matter if it bothers me. It's out there now."
"And that's bad because...?"
Rowan set down his hammer, meeting her gaze directly. "Because people will expect things. Make assumptions about what this is."
"What is this, Rowan?"
He wanted to give her a simple answer, something clean and uncomplicated. Instead, all he could think about was the way she'd felt in his arms, the taste of her mouth, the soft sounds she'd made when he moved inside her.
"I have no idea," he said honestly.
"Neither do I." Diana's voice was steady, but he caught the slight tremor in her hands. "But I know what it felt like last night. And I know I'm not sorry it happened."
His wolf surged forward, demanding he close the distance between them. Demanding he kiss her again, claim her properly this time, mark her so thoroughly that every shifter in town would know she was his.
"The work's almost done," he said instead. "Another week, maybe two."
"And then?"
"Then I move on to the next project."
"Of course," she said quietly. "That's what contractors do."
She stood, brushing dust from her jeans. "I'll let you get back to work. Lunch around noon?"
"Sure."
But as she headed downstairs, Rowan found himself wondering if he'd just made the biggest mistake of his life. His wolf certainly thought so, snarling and pacing and demanding to know why he kept pushing away the one thing they both wanted.
Outside, he could hear the town starting its day. Cars on the square, the chime of shop bells, the ordinary sounds of people living their lives. Soon they'd all know about last night. Soon they'd all be watching to see what happened next.
Rowan picked up his hammer and drove a nail with unnecessary force. He'd told himself he'd set boundaries, and then he'd let one smile rip up his entire rulebook.
The question was what he planned to do about it.