Page 42 of Love Bites (Timber Creek #2)
CHAPTER 42
SUMMER
“One more,” I mumbled as I punched the final staple through the new fabric for my café chairs and flipped it over, smoothing my hand over the new yellow and blue floral. A slow grin took over my face as I stepped back, admiring my work. Everything was bright and cheery, new pink tables contrasting with the floral fabric. Still me , but refreshed.
The chairs were the last of the DIY projects I’d tackled in the shop. Thanks to my emotional avoidance, I now had freshly painted tables, crisp new wallpaper on the wall behind the register, springy wildflowers drawn on the front window around my new vinyl logo, and overflowing planter boxes I’d made in my dad’s workshop, bursting with color. I was a master at channeling my energy into action. Negativity was a drag no one wanted, least of all me.
My phone’s timer went off, alerting me I had 20 minutes to get on the road on time, so I set about cleaning up my upholstery tools and scraps.
In my haste to overhaul everything right now, I’d decided to shut the café down for two weeks for renovations, but I was at a standstill until Aspen’s plans for the patio were finished. Waking up this morning to one of the first really warm days of almost-summer had inspired me to take a half-day and check another item off my bucket list — white water rafting.
After a quick online search, I’d found one not too far from here, and texted Indi to invite her. Just like she had a few weeks ago, she rudely declined.
One of the decisions I’d come to in my melancholy over the last few days was that I was tired of waiting for everyone else to be ready for my plans.
Did I hate doing things alone? Yes.
But did that mean I couldn’t? Nope.
Thankfully, the first adventure I decided to take solo was far from alone — the whole rest of the tour group would be there. I’d have a chance to make some friends, ones unconnected to Timber Creek.
My hands shook as I put my tools back in the basket, placing it on top of the counter and blowing out a long breath. It was a little bit terrifying, but I wanted this — to live my best life here in Timber Creek and still expand my horizons. Indi’s words weeks ago about me being stalled weren’t as untrue as I hoped they were, but I was determined to make that a thing of the past.
“Today is a good day for a good day,” I read the sign leading up to my apartment, hopping up the stairs to grab my things.
Everything was going perfectly to plan.
Twenty-five minutes later, I bundled into my Jeep and took off on the road out of town.
Even just for the mountain drive, this trip was already worth it. Bright green aspen trees dotted the mountain sides, and spring flowers dotted the meadows between patches of dark green pines and spruces in a picture-perfect vision of spring.
In fact —
I spotted a vista point pull-off ahead and eased my Jeep over to the side. It would only take a minute to snap some photos.
Hopping out of the car, I stepped up to the edge where the dirt-cleared parking space fell away to steep mountainside, hair whipping in the strong winds. The smell of the pines and fresh grass overwhelmed my senses as I trained my camera on the view. In the far distance, jagged mountain peaks still had a healthy snowcap, as they would all summer. But closer, wild larkspur and fireweed and desert paintbrush filled the view with color.
I flipped the camera around and put my back to the scene, posing for a selfie and blowing a kiss to the camera as my hair flew in a cyclone all around me. Switching over to my texts, I sent the pic to Indi.
Summer
Adventure awaits!
Indi
Have fun! Let me know when you get back so I can hear all about you drowning multiple times in that death trap of a boat.
I chuckled, then hearted her text.
The crunch of gravel alerted me to another car joining me, and I glanced back to see a blacked-out SUV following my lead at the turn-off to take in the gorgeous view. No one got out to join me, but maybe they’d pulled off for another reason. It was hazardous to drive distracted on these narrow, winding roads, so sometimes people stopped for a break or to make a phone call. I snapped a few more photos before heading back to my car.
I stared at the SUV as I gripped my door handle, but the heavily tinted windows blocked out whoever sat inside. I sniffed the air, my wolf’s hackles pricking up, but the wind was blowing right into my face, blocking out any other scents and sounds.
With a shrug, I hopped up into my Jeep, ready to be on my way. When I pulled back onto the road, the SUV followed shortly after. I stared in my rearview mirror at the imposing vehicle, brow furrowed, but it wasn’t like there was anywhere else for them to go.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, but I was probably being paranoid. “Quit acting like Cooper,” I muttered to myself, looking back at the road.
Winding through the mountains, I glanced behind me every few minutes, that same black SUV tailing me a little too close for comfort.
At the next available passing lane, I pulled to the right to let them go around me.
But they didn’t. They moved to the right lane with me, and matched my way-too-slow pace.
Shit .
Fear skittered down my spine, but I tried to shake it off. I was a wolf, after all, and the odds were still in my favor.
Unless they know you’re a wolf.
The thought hit as they flashed their lights at me. What if they were like the guys who’d kidnapped Jade and Hailey? People looking for shifters?
Against my better judgment, I hit the gas as I fumbled for my phone in the passenger seat to call West. This far from town I wouldn’t be able to reach him telepathically.
SOS . The symbol in the corner informed me I had no service.
I breathed deep, trying to calm my racing heart.
I knew these mountains. I rarely drove outside of town, but that didn’t mean I never had or couldn’t. If I could just make it to the next town, I doubted whoever it was would try to cause a scene in public, and I’d be able to find a phone with service.
But every time I upped my speed, the SUV matched me. Every turn I whipped around, they took just as smoothly. Until I had to admit that whoever was following me must also have supernatural reflexes.
I glanced in my rearview mirror again, but the deeply tinted windows blocked out the sight of whoever drove.
It was only a split-second glance, but when my eyes returned to the road, I yelped.
I grappled with the steering wheel, but it was no use. Too late.
An ungodly shriek of metal scraping metal split the air, the guardrail useless at these speeds, and I braced as my Jeep went airborne.