Page 13 of Midlife Animal Rescuer Wolf

For the next few seconds, he simply stared at her, and Miranda wondered if he could hear her heart throbbing in her chest. Then a slight smile graced his face.

“Yes, actually,” he said. “The way I see it, shifters are the bridge between humans and animals.”

She frowned. “What’s a shifter?”

He blinked at her in surprise.

“What? I barely know anything about you. I’d like to understand as much as I can. I’m curious, and I’d rather not jump to conclusions, if I can avoid it. Why are you looking at me like that?”

He seemed to realize his jaw was hanging open and closed it immediately. “Sorry, you’re just the first human who’s ever said that to me.”

Chapter Five

“You Didn’t Run From Me Earlier”

The warm whiskey made its way down his throat, leaving a burning sensation in its wake. Bryon set his glass back onto the counter.

“Another, please,” he said to the bartender.

The squat man standing behind the counter turned away from the bottles he’d been rearranging and shot Bryon a look of genuine concern. His bushy eyebrows furrowed slightly.

“That’s the seventh refill you’ve asked for,” he replied. “You sure you’re okay, Sanders? You don’t usually drink so much.”

Bryon gave a wave of his hand. “Don’t you worry about me, Ed. I’m fine.”

The bartender didn’t look the least bit convinced, but he shrugged and gave Bryon a refill, anyway. With a sigh, Bryon lifted the glass to his face, staring into its contents.

“It’s trouble in paradise, isn’t it?” the man tried again. “She break your heart?”

At this, Bryon almost burst into laughter. If only Rhoda were the real reason he’d come into this bar twenty minutes ago to drink his way through his thoughts. Hell, maybe if he’d been in the house when she showed up late to last night’s party and had made his move, they’d be on their first date in this bar, laughing over cocktails.

But that wasn’t the case. No, he’d never made it back to the party last night. Not after Harold had seen him.

The memory came to him with a shudder: his best friend staring in shock and horror as he stood by the trees, part wolf, part man. Bryon had shifted back to his human form as quickly as he could, but by then, it had been too late. Before Harold could say a word, he’d grabbed his clothes and made a run for it, not once stopping until he’d made it back home.

Harold hadn’t called or texted since. Hadn’t come to check on him. That wasn’t a good sign. Not at all.

He downed half of the glass in one gulp, trying to calm his racing mind. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as he feared. He and Harold had had a few drinks last night. If he was lucky, his best friend wouldn’t remember ever seeing him in the process of shifting into a wolf. Or at the very least, he’d figure it was some sort of dream.

Bryon poured the glass’s remaining contents down his throat and was about to ask the bartender for yet another refill when a new customer walked into the bar. Bryon glanced in the newcomer’s direction, and his entire body went rigid.

Crap.

Harold’s gaze swept the bar until it finally landed on him. His green eyes narrowed slightly, and he immediately made a beeline for the counter.

Bryon’s chest tightened. Damn. This wasn’t good. Not good at all.

Harold reached the counter, his gaze still on his friend. He remained on his feet, his hands trembling at his sides.

“Uh, hey, Harold,” Bryon said, trying to sound as casual as possible. “How’s it going? Haven’t, uh, haven’t heard from you since the party. Why don’t you take a seat?”

“I didn’t come here to sit down.” There was a quaver in Harold’s voice. “I came here because of last night.”

He did remember what he’d seen, after all. Bryon swallowed, feeling his throat constrict by the second. “Look, I don’t think this is the right time or place to talk about—”

“I think I’ll bring up whatever I damn well want to whenever and wherever I want to, Bryon. I saw you last night. I saw you changed into...into whatever that thing was.”

He shuddered as though the mere thought of it was revolting. Panic already fluttering in his belly, Bryon swept his gaze around the bar. A couple of people were already glancing in their direction. Even Ed, the bartender, was absently wiping a glass with a rag, evidently interested in their conversation.