Fletcher rubbed a hand over his face. “It’s getting to him. He ignored me when I told him to take it slow with the vigilante work. That shit’ll eat you up if you let it, and he’s been hip deep in it for a few years now without stopping to breathe.”
And Jay was dragging him to Memphis, possibly for more bloodshed. “If we can get past the immediate danger, maybe he’ll agree to stick around for a while. Take it easy.”
“I think he needs to.” The look in Fletcher’s eyes was deadly serious. “He’s been calling me more than he used to, and lately it hasn’t just been as a friend. He needs an alpha. Ask him to stay, and I’m pretty sure he will. Maybe for a long time.”
Colin wasn’t like Fletcher. With a good enough reason—for a good enough leader—Colin would sublimate his own alpha tendencies and content himself with helping to run a pack. Fletcher, on the other hand, would push and push, driven to challenge because his instincts would accept nothing less.
No, Colin wasn’t like Fletcher, who’d never stay. Who would wander until he formed or took on a pack of his own.
“He might stay,” Jay agreed. “I know you won’t. I get that too.”
“I’ll stay until everything’s settled,” Fletcher promised. “I want to help you, because I can believe in this. But once we’re out of enemies to fight together, you know what’ll happen.”
The squabbling would start—not petty, silly shit, but actual arguments arising from the fundamental differences in the way they approached problems. “I can take it. Can you?”
“Of course we can take it.” He glanced at the door. “It’s unfair to the rest of them, though. There can only be one leader. I’ll follow as long as I can and leave when I can’t.”
“Who knows? You might find something worth sticking around for.”
“Because that worked out well for me last time around.”
Rebecca. To say that Fletcher’s last serious entanglement had ended in disaster was an unqualified understatement. “Shit. I’m sorry, man. I didn’t mean to bring that up.”
“It’s forgotten.” Fletcher rose with his coffee cup in hand. “Do you want me to get right on the babysitting, or do you mind if I borrow your girl for a couple hours and write my first check?” He nodded toward the empty fridge on the other side of the kitchen. “We need a whole lot of food if we’re setting up camp. Might as well stock everyone’s pantries.”
Jay’s first instinct was to deny him the time alone with Eden. His second was to smile. “You’ll have to ask her.”
“Smart man.”
By the time she started her third batch of biscuits, Eden was starting to feel almost accomplished. The slight singe around the edges of the first batch hadn’t stopped hungry werewolves from devouring them in minutes.
She used her grandmother’s measuring cups to dump enough flour for a double batch into the large ceramic bowl and smiled ruefully at Lorelei. “You weren’t joking. A house full of werewolves can eat a lot.”
The other woman smiled a little. “No, I wasn’t joking.”
Such a tiny smile, but Eden was learning to count each one as a step forward. “Well, my father’s finally going to get his wish. I’m learning the family business.”
“Does he want you to take over the diner someday?”
“I don’t think he cares about the diner as much as just being able to leave me something.” Eden twirled her hand, her gesture taking in the farmhouse. “This was his legacy, before everything went wrong. The diner belonged to my mother’s family.”
Lorelei dusted flour over the butcher’s block. “Zack never mentioned this place. I didn’t know it existed until he started talking about bringing everyone here.”
“I’m not surprised. Growing up was tough, and Zack’s father…” Eden glanced at Lorelei, unsure how much Zack had shared and unwilling to tread on what little privacy her cousin had left. “No one was really happy here.”
“It’s a shame.” Lorelei wiped her hands on a kitchen towel, her expression sympathetic but also somehow matter-of-fact. “Is that dough ready?”
“Just about.” Eden turned toward the fridge to retrieve the buttermilk and froze when a glance out the front window showed Mrs. Wilson lugging an oversized basket up the driveway. “Oh, hell. We’re about to have company.”
Lorelei froze. “It’s not—” Her voice cracked, and she shook her head. “Who?”
“No,” Eden said quickly, cursing her verbal clumsiness. “No, it’s just the neighbor from the farm down the road. She’s harmless, but she’s nosy. She’s the one