***
Maple woke to the smell of coffee, a rumbling stomach, and an empty bed. She hadn’t eaten anything since her burger at the diner the day before. Stretching, she looked around. Tan walls and yet more beautiful antique furniture adorned it, but it didn’t have anything personal to make it homey. It wasn’t Jaxon’s.
Sitting up, she stretched, then winced when her neck and jaw ached.
“Here, take these,” Jaxon said as he came in. In one hand, he held two more white tablets, and in the other, a tall glass of orange juice. “It’ll take a couple of days for the soreness to go away.”
She downed the tablets with a few sips of juice. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I’ve put your clothes in the bathroom if you want to have a shower. Your grandmother called and said they were allowing family in to see your uncle at nine.” Jaxon looked at her as though he expected her to bolt, but truth be told, she had no desire to.
The clock on the bedside table said it was almost nine already, and as much as she wanted to go to the hospital, they had to talk. What she needed was a few minutes to gather her thoughts. “Great. I’ll make it quick,” she said as she brushed past.
Other than the fact that he hadn’t told her he was a shifter, what had he done that was so wrong? He’d gone out of his way to make sure she could stay at the cottage, and although that might not have been entirely altruistic, he hadn’t had to do it. He’d arranged for her car to be fixed, at no cost to her at all. Maple smiled as she remembered him coming to her rescue when she’d been stranded on the side of the road. He’d protected her from the wolf in her yard, then again at the Sugar Shack yesterday. Okay, so not telling her about the shifting into a wolf thing was a big deal, but it’s not like it was something easy to bring up in everyday conversation.
Last night, he’d said he loved her. His actions from the moment he’d pulled her off the hood of her car had reinforced those words. Her heart thudded against her ribs. They’d only known one another for a short time, but she couldn’t deny there was something there. Every fiber in her being screamed that there was.
Back in her early twenties, Maple remembered a time when she’d been questioning whether to move forward with a guy she’d been dating. Mike had been a little possessive, but a nice guy. After days of trying to make heads or tails of it, her grandmother had given her a piece of advice that had all but sealed the fate of the relationship. She’d said, “If you woke up tomorrow, and that man wasn’t in your life anymore, how would you feel?” The answer back then had been simple. Maple had known in that instant that she’d be fine. She would move on and find happiness elsewhere. She’d broken it off with Mike that night and had never regretted that decision.
Her heart squeezed tight, stealing her breath with the ache rushing through her at the idea of not having Jaxon in her life. If, suddenly, he was gone, part of her would be lost, and she’d never be the same. Crap. Falling in love hadn’t been in the plans, but there it was.
She finished her shower and towel dried her hair, still no closer to having answers as she had been when she’d gone in. If anything, more had arisen.
Her heart was here in Dexter. She’d never forgotten the little town or the cottage that had always been home to her, but more than that, Jaxon was here. If the men who’d attacked her uncle had been telling the truth, Jaxon was the local Alpha. That had to be a big deal, and she couldn’t imagine it was something he could do remotely.
A heavy weight settled in her chest. He couldn’t leave. She couldn’t stay. Her throat ached, and her eyes burned as the realization sunk in. She would have to wake up without him and figure out how to move on.
She found him sitting in the kitchen with a travel mug and a huge muffin in a baggie sitting on the table in front of him. Jaxon looked up when she entered the room. He opened his mouth to say something, but then sighed. “Come on, I’ll take you over there.”
Other than Jaxon’s couple of attempts at conversation, which she shot down, tense silence filled the truck on the way to the hospital. Her heart ached too much for meaningless chatter. Maple ate the muffin, glad to have something in her stomach, even if she couldn’t recall what kind it had been once she was done eating it. The coffee he’d made her was perfect, just the way she liked it. Of course, it was. The man always paid attention to the little details.
Jaxon pulled up to the front entrance and glanced her way, his hands tight on the steering wheel. “Do you want me to come in?” he asked.
“No, that’s okay,” she finally managed. Even if she knew what to say, she doubted she could get the words past her lips.
He nodded but didn’t say anything else as she got out. She closed the door and stepped back, watching as he drove away. Maple swiped a tear from her cheek and hung her head. Her tomorrow without him had cruelly morphed into today.
Twenty-Three
Maple sat at her uncle’s bedside, holding his hand. The swelling to his face had gone down, but the dark, ugly bruises would take a while to heal. The nurse who’d come in with some pain killers fluffed his pillow, checked his IV, then left.
“I’m sorry for
