Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 39414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 197(@200wpm)___ 158(@250wpm)___ 131(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 197(@200wpm)___ 158(@250wpm)___ 131(@300wpm)
Wyatt doesn’t say hello.
He doesn’t ask what happened.
He just takes two long strides and plants himself between me and Graham like my body is a line no one crosses.
“You put your hands on her,” Wyatt says, voice low.
Graham lifts his palms in a practiced gesture. “I did no such thing. I asked for my property back.”
I stiffen. “I’m not your property.”
Graham’s eyes flick to me like I’m a child interrupting adults. “Ellie, sweetheart—”
Wyatt moves again, so fast my breath catches. He closes the last foot of space and Graham’s whole posture shifts back without even thinking, his body reacting to threat before his brain can spin a story.
“Don’t,” Wyatt says. One syllable. A command with teeth.
Levi makes a noise in the corner that might be a laugh, might be a gasp. Sadie’s eyes go flat and dangerous like she’s deciding which weapon in this shop would hurt most.
Graham forces a smile back onto his face. “Wyatt, right? Firefighter hero. Congratulations on your… arrangement.”
Wyatt’s shoulders rise with a slow inhale. His hands are at his sides, but they look like they want to become fists.
“I heard about your message,” Wyatt says.
Graham’s brows lift. “Message?”
Wyatt’s gaze doesn’t flicker. “The photo.”
A muscle jumps in Graham’s jaw. The mask slips for a second—just enough for me to see irritation underneath, the way he hates being cornered, hates being watched, hates losing control.
Then he recovers. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I take a step forward before I can stop myself. “You sent me a photo of myself at Wyatt’s cabin.”
Graham’s eyes land on me, and the softness in his expression is fake enough to make my stomach turn. “Ellie. You’re stressed. You’re imagining things.”
Sadie lets out a sharp laugh. “Oh, I hate him.”
Levi nods. “Same.”
Wyatt’s head turns slightly, just enough to look at me over his shoulder. “Phone.”
I swallow. “I have it.”
“Give it to me.”
My pride flares automatically. “I’m not handing you my phone like—”
Wyatt’s voice drops. “Ellie.”
My name on his tongue is a leash. My pulse jumps. I hate it.
I also… don’t.
I pull the phone from my pocket and hold it up. “I recorded him. It’s saved. Maddie made me back it up.”
Wyatt’s gaze flashes with something like approval. “Good girl.”
Heat licks up my spine and I want to shove him. I want to kiss him. I want to throw a truffle at his head.
Maddie steps in from the side like she’s been waiting for her cue. She moves to my shoulder, calm and steady, eyes on me first. “You did it right.”
I nod, throat tight. “He tried to grab it.”
Maddie’s gaze slides to Graham like a blade. “Of course he did.”
Ethan appears in the doorway behind them, ranger jacket on, face hard. He scans the room once, then steps in like an authority figure who doesn’t need permission to occupy space.
“Graham,” he says, voice level. “We’ve got reports of harassment and trespass near a backcountry residence.”
Graham’s smile twitches. “Are you accusing me of trespassing?”
Ethan’s gaze doesn’t change. “I’m saying we have reason to believe someone’s been circling property lines and watching windows. That’s a crime.”
Graham’s eyes narrow slightly. “This is ridiculous.”
Wyatt’s voice goes flat. “Not to me.”
Graham’s gaze flicks to Wyatt’s hands like he’s calculating whether Wyatt will actually swing. Then he looks toward the front windows—toward Main Street—toward the fact that people have definitely stopped walking and started watching.
He resets. Straightens his jacket. Performs.
“Ellie is in default,” he says, louder now. “I’m here to resolve a financial matter. This man is threatening me.”
I laugh, sharp. “You threatened me.”
Graham tilts his head, all fake concern. “I warned you. There’s a difference.”
Maddie leans in toward me, voice low. “Don’t argue definitions. Stick to facts.”
I swallow. “You changed the locks. You restricted my accounts. You contacted me after I told you not to. You showed up here after Wyatt told you to leave.”
Wyatt’s body tenses at the mention of the locks, the accounts—like every detail is another match on gasoline.
Graham’s smile goes tight. “Ellie, you’re spiraling.”
Wyatt turns his head toward me again, just a fraction. “Eyes on me.”
I blink. “What?”
Wyatt’s voice stays calm, but it’s not gentle. “Look at me.”
Something about the order cuts through the noise. I lock onto him.
Wyatt’s gaze holds mine for one beat—steady, grounding—and then he turns back to Graham like he’s decided something final.
“You want to talk legal?” Wyatt says. “Fine. You can talk to the sheriff.”
Graham’s eyes harden. “You think your little town badge scares me?”
Wyatt steps in close enough that Graham’s smile finally cracks. “No,” Wyatt says. “But my patience should.”
Graham’s composure slips—just slightly. “You can’t keep her,” he snaps, and the words are sharper than he intended, too possessive, too revealing.
The shop goes quiet.
Even Levi shuts up.
Wyatt stills, and for a second I swear I can see the exact moment his restraint fractures.
His hand shoots out, grabbing Graham’s wrist—hard. Not enough to break it, but enough to make Graham suck in a breath.