Seven Years

nearby?”

“No.” He quietly sipped his coffee and made an audible swallow. “I bought a hundred acres, so we’re pretty spaced apart.”

“How much did that cost?”

Austin didn’t answer. I guess at this point, it didn’t matter. Finally, he pointed to the left by a pear tree. “What do you think about putting a garden over there? I could make some wind chimes and hang them from the branch.”

“You know how to whittle?”

He gave a handsome smirk and his dark brows sank over his sparkling eyes. “Don’t look so surprised. A Shifter once showed me how to make them out of wood. It’s not difficult.”

It was such a little thing, but it gave me insight to a side of Austin I’d never seen. Suddenly I wanted to know everything he’d been through in the past seven years—even the bad stuff.

“Can you remember things when you’re in wolf form? I mean, everything in detail?”

After taking another sip, Austin set the coffee down and stretched out his legs, crossing them at the ankle. He’d put on a pair of brown hiking boots.

“Most of it. I can’t remember details of conversation too well, but I get the gist of emotions and things that I pick up through my wolf. Depends on the situation. Why?”

“Do you remember the lawyer coming by?”

“Ah, so that’s who that was.”

“My boss died.”

A blue jay squawked and flapped into a nearby oak tree.

“Sorry to hear that.”

After another bite of banana, I set down the plate. “He willed me his shop and I don’t know what to do. I’ve never run a business before; I’ll screw it up.”

Austin chewed on his lip for a moment, staring at the open stretch of land. “Do it. You’ve got my support, Lexi. Just don’t run yourself into a hole, and if it comes to that, then sell it or quit. You’ll regret it if you don’t try.”

“I know,” I said, resting my chin on my knee. “I just don’t know how to feel about it. Charlie’s gone, and it hardly seems like it’s the same without him.”

“But you knew how he ran the store and what it took to make money. You’re a smart girl, Lexi. I know you’ve picked up some business sense over the years working there. I’ll help if you need it. Maybe put Ben and Wheeler’s sorry asses in there to work for you.”

“Uh, no thanks. They’d scare the children.”

He laughed and leaned forward, chewing the granola and wiping his hand on his jeans. “When I was younger, they were more like Denver, personality wise. No tattoos, no morose expressions, and Ben worked with Wheeler for a while before he decided to play cards professionally. Something happened between them, and if I had to guess, it has to do with money or a woman. They still get along, but it seems more like they’re doing it because of rank or something.”

“How many more will you add to your pack?”

“Hard to say,” he mumbled, chewing the last bite of granola. I watched his strong jaw working hard and noticed he had shaved, although he’d missed a patchy spot on the side. “This house was renovated and has about fifteen bedrooms. If anyone brings in a mate, then that could double the occupancy without using up all the rooms. That’s why I bought the additional land. I’d rather not have everyone living in separate houses; that never works well with Shifters. But I can always build onto this one, or have a house just over there,” he said, waving his hand to the left. “We could connect them with a walkway or something.”

“What happens when the women go into heat?”

“They stay locked up in their bedrooms.”

I frowned. “That’s not practical. Maybe if you build an extra house, it could be the heat house.” I laughed so hard at my joke that Beaker made an appearance and I plugged my nose to make him go away. I hated my laugh when I got riled up because people used to make fun of me. It wasn’t any weirder than Pamela Jones, who used to snort with each breath. Or Danny (one of Wes’s friends) who would scream out his laugh like some old drunkard.

Austin pulled my hand away. “Don’t cover up your laugh,” he scolded. “Now finish up your coffee and we’ll head out. I’m anxious to start moving in and the boys have a lot of work to do before that can happen.”

“What kind of work?”

He stood up and locked his fingers behind his head, stretching in the morning light. “Marking territory. One hundred acres. We’re going to have to stop off and buy a few cases of Gatorade. Denver’s going to hate my ass.”

* * *

I called April and she confirmed that thanks to Austin, things were running smoothly again. I was a little too embarrassed to go straight to Austin’s house and face the music (and the stares), so Austin dropped me off at Sweet Treats. Now that I was out of heat, he was okay with taking off, which I was thankful for. I didn’t need someone in my life that was so possessive I couldn’t walk five yards without feeling a tug at my leash.

April didn’t take the news about Charlie’s death very well. She might have a nose for business, but her sensitive side still ran deep. After fifteen minutes of crying in the bathroom, she emerged with a puffy nose and smudged eyeliner. She had also changed out of her work clothes, so I guessed she needed the rest of the day off to grieve. Girls like April looked even prettier at their worst; she just exuded a natural beauty I envied. I heard guys whispering about how she looked like a younger Keira Knightley, only blond with a punk-rock hairstyle like Pink. April had a unique look that made me wonder why she’d never tried modeling. Beckett once told me I looked like Megan Fox, but that’s when he was going through his Transformers movie phase. Plus, boyfriends were supposed to say stuff like that. I had lied myself and told him once he looked like Matt Damon on steroids.

“You okay?” I asked as she sat in the chair behind the counter and blew her nose. “I’m serious about you taking over as manager. I don’t know what I’ll be able to pay you until I figure out the finances, but nobody knows how to run a business like you do. April Frost, you were born for this.”

A little spark glittered in her eyes and I glanced at the streak of black dye in her platinum-blond hair. Her long bangs swooped over her face stylishly, and the streak ran diagonal. Last month, she tried a light blue color.

“Let me think about it. Of course I will,” she said, as if there was never a doubt.

I walked around and hugged April so tight she let out a small fart. The both of us cracked up and I fell on the floor in hysterics. I needed that laugh; sometimes unexpected moments of childish humor made you realize how simplistically wonderful life was.

“Did you read over the information he left you?” she asked, twisting her bracelets around her wrist.

“Not yet,” I said, pulling myself up. “I was busy last night and didn’t get around to it.”

That’s when her eyes slid up and down my body. “With Beckett?”

I flushed and looked away because April had no idea Beckett was dead. The only person who would have reported him missing was his boss, but I had serious doubts he’d bother since they didn’t get along. Beckett’s only family was a drunk father serving time in the state pen. It simplified my holidays, which were always spent with my mom.

“No,” I replied, unwrapping one of the colored candy canes and nibbling on the end. “I went out with an old friend.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear your hair up,” she noted. “Knocks five years off your age, but I guess you already know that.”

No, I sure didn’t realize a simple ponytail made me look younger, but a girl could always use a boost to her ego, so I spun around with a wide grin. “Think so?”

April wasn’t paying attention as she thumbed through the ledger. “If you don’t mind, could I close up the shop for the day to do some work? I’d also like to see the papers he gave you. Don’t worry about the store—I’ll work out shifts with the girls until you come back. Say, when are you coming