Page 13

S leep came in fits and starts. Billie Ann tossed and turned, the weight of Rafe’s words pressing into the quiet darkness like a warm but unfamiliar blanket.

Every time she closed her eyes, she saw his face, the feel of his hands guiding her in that slow, unexpected dance. Her heart still hadn’t caught up.

By morning, her pillow was a tangled mess under her arm, and the light streaming through the window only served to remind her that tonight... everything would change again. Shift Faced was reopening.

She groaned and rolled out of bed, dragging a hand through her messy hair.

Her nerves had nothing to do with drink orders or keeping the register straight.

It was about facing the town, facing people who’d known Davey, who’d watched her grow up, and who might not be too thrilled that a human woman was now running one of the most Shifter-centric establishments around.

But as she stepped into the familiar warmth of the bar, all those anxieties dimmed.

The air still smelled faintly of lemon oil and old whiskey.

Light poured through the windows, illuminating every surface she had scrubbed clean the day before.

Her boots echoed across the wooden floor as she moved behind the bar, checking the taps as well as double-checking the stock.

Everything was exactly where it should be.

By late afternoon, the sign on the door was flipped to OPEN , and the buzz began. Locals trickled in, then more, and soon the low hum of voices, laughter, and clinking glasses filled the air like it had never left.

Billie Ann wiped down the bar, smiling at familiar faces.

Frank was in his element, working beside her with the same easy rhythm he always had.

Bruce was perched on the counter’s edge, swishing his tail and tossing snide comments between sips out of a saucer full of whiskey someone had smuggled for him.

“You look like you belong here,” Frank said during a lull, nodding toward her.

“I think I finally believe that,” she replied, her smile confident as she looked around at the customers who seemed to be enjoying themselves.

And there, leaning against the back wall with that maddeningly confident grin, was Rafe.

Their eyes met, and something unspoken passed between them, like an electric current grounding her to the moment.

“You’re looking beautiful tonight,” Frisco had walked over and leaned against the bar.

Bruce snorted, rolling his eyes. “Look who’s trying to get a beer on the house.”

“Thanks, Frisco.” Billie Ann said, ignoring Bruce. She grabbed a beer from the cooler and set it down on the bar in front of him. “But Bruce is right. You don’t have to lie in order to get a free beer.”

“I need two margaritas and two beers,” Macy said as she rushed up to the bar. “Hey, Frisco.”

“Macy,” Frisco gave her a nod, then took a drink of his beer.

“I got the margarita,” Frank said, getting to work on the drinks.

Billie Ann noticed how Macy kept sneaking glances at Frisco. Interesting. Setting two beers on her tray, she smiled at Macy, who blushed after getting caught staring at Frisco.

“Two margaritas,” Frank announced, setting them on her tray beside the beers.

“Thanks, Frank,” Macy smiled, then took off this time, keeping her eyes off Frisco. Her bright smile dimmed.

Once Frank moved down the bar to fill an order, Billie Ann glanced at Frisco. “How well do you know Macy?” she asked nonchalantly. When he gave her a sideways glance, she figured it wasn't nonchalant enough.

“Why?” Frisco cocked his eyebrow at her.

Billie shrugged as she wiped the already clean bar. “Just wondering.” She replied, then glanced at Rafe, who was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching her.

“How well do you know him?” Frisco gave a sideways nod toward Rafe.

Narrowing her eyes at Frisco, she frowned. “None of your business.” She replied, then glanced at Macy, who was laughing with a group of Crow Shifters. “She’s beautiful, sweet, and totally into you.”

“Too sweet for me,” Frisco said, setting his empty beer down. “I’m more into bartenders.”

“Frank’s married,” Billie Ann replied, gaining a chuckle from Bruce.

“She got you on that one, Crow boy.” Bruce snickered as he leaped off the bar. “Give it up, man.”

“I hate that fucking cat,” Frisco growled, glaring at Bruce, who walked casually away.

“He’s funny,” Billie Ann chuckled. Then she held up a beer toward Rafe, who nodded. She started around the bar past Frisco, who grabbed her arm, stopping her.

“Have dinner with me.” Frisco’s voice was low and coaxing as he looked down at her, his hand still wrapped gently but firmly around her arm.

Billie Ann’s smile faded. It wasn’t the first time he’d asked, and it wouldn’t be the last if he kept reading her kindness as something more.

“We’ve had this conversation, Frisco. Friends. That’s all we’ll ever be.” She lifted her chin. “Let go of my arm.”

His grip didn’t tighten, but it didn’t fall away either. “You say that, but the way you look at me?—”

“I look at you like a friend,” she cut in, trying to keep her tone even, her voice calm. “A good friend. But that’s all I’ve got to give. I won’t ask you to let me go again, Frisco.”

Before Frisco could answer, another presence joined them. Rafe appeared at her side, moving with that dangerous grace that made people instinctively get out of his way.

“I suggest you do as she says,” Rafe growled, stepping in closer, his body a wall between Billie Ann and Frisco. His narrowed eyes flared with heat, and the low warning in his voice sliced through the buzz of the bar like a blade. “Or we’re going to have a big fucking problem.”

Frisco straightened, his smirk twitching into something less confident as he looked up at Rafe’s towering frame. “Didn’t realize she needed protection now.”

“She doesn’t,” Rafe said, his voice harsh and steady. “But clearly, you weren’t listening. I’m just making sure you hear her.”

Frisco’s eyes flicked to Billie Ann, and for a second, something darker passed across his face...resentment, maybe, or just wounded pride. He scoffed, but the edge of his bravado was dulled now.

Rafe didn’t move, didn’t blink. His body radiated tension, ready to explode if Frisco made one wrong move.

“She told you no,” Rafe said, voice quieter now, but twice as dangerous. “You don't put your hands on her. Ever.”

Frisco let out a breath, backing off with a forced chuckle. “Damn, man. You act like she’s already claimed.”

“She is.” He replied point-blank with no hesitation and no explanation.

The words landed hard, and Billie Ann felt their weight deep in her soul. Her eyes flicked up to Rafe’s, startled by the calm certainty in his voice.

Frisco looked between them, clearly caught off guard by the declaration. “That changes things,” he muttered, stepping back.

“Damn straight it does,” Rafe didn’t hold back. “So, you can either leave on your own two feet or be carried out. Choice is yours, Crow.”

Frisco gave one last look at Billie Ann, then turned and melted into the crowd, his swagger gone.

Rafe didn’t relax until Frisco was out of sight. Then he turned to Billie Ann, reaching out to brush his fingers lightly down her arm, checking her. “You okay?”

She nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. “Yeah.”

He searched her face, his thumb grazing the spot where Frisco’s hand had been. “Next time, I won’t ask so nicely.”

“That was nice,” she said, trying for a light tone, though her voice trembled slightly.

Rafe leaned in closer, his mouth near her ear. “You haven’t seen me not nice, sweetheart.”

A shiver worked down her spine, and not from fear. Her pulse thundered in her ears as she met his gaze, heart clenching at the possessiveness simmering behind his golden eyes.

And the wildest part? She didn’t mind it one bit. Frisco was a friend, but he wanted something more, and at times, became really pushy to the point it made her uncomfortable.

“Frisco isn’t a bad guy,” Billie Ann said quietly, watching the front door swing shut in the wake of his dramatic exit. He’d spoken to a few of the Crow Shifters near the bar before stalking out, his jaw tight. “He’s just?—”

“A man who doesn’t take no for an answer the first time,” Rafe cut in, his voice low and edged with frustration. “Or the second, from the looks of it.”

Billie Ann turned to him, folding her arms across her chest. “He means well. We’ve known each other for a long time. He just...misreads things.”

“Misreads?” Rafe’s golden eyes locked onto hers, full of heat and a hint of the wildness that lived beneath his skin. “He had his hand on you. That’s not a misunderstanding. That’s a man who thinks he has the right to ignore your boundaries.”

She blinked, the fire in his voice catching her off guard. He wasn’t yelling. He didn’t need to. Rafe’s anger simmered just under the surface, protective and fierce.

“He’s not dangerous, Rafe,” Billie Ann said, her voice quiet, trying to soothe the storm brewing just beneath his surface.

But even as the words left her lips, her mind flashed back to the way Frisco’s eyes had darkened and how his smile had vanished, replaced by a look she didn’t recognize. That angry glare he gave her just before Rafe stepped in had chilled her. She had never seen that side of Frisco before.

“He was angry,” she admitted, her voice softer now. “I’ve known Frisco a long time. He’s always been persistent… sometimes too persistent. After I left for Lexington, he called, emailed, and even showed up a couple of times asking me to come back. Said this place wasn’t the same without me.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened. “That doesn’t mean he has a claim on you.”

“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 possessive and dark, sending a chill down her spine that she couldn’t quite shake.