Part 24 (2/2)
”Which are?”
His throat had tightened, but he managed to say, ”Something a man uses when he makes love to a woman-to keep her from getting pregnant.”
He saw her flush. ”Oh.”
He wanted to tell her they wouldn't be needing any. A werewolf wanted to get his mate pregnant to perpetuate his species. That was programmed into his genes.
Then he realized how far he was getting ahead of himself. She didn't even understand that they had bonded, which meant he could hardly si art making demands.
Unaware of the turmoil roiling inside him, she put the box back and took a deep breath. ”They have coffee here? In a public place?” she murmured.
Delighted to find another focus for his thoughts, he answered, ”Yes.”
Again her surprise showed on her face. ”And it's not expensive?”
”No.” He laughed. ”But the stuff they have in a place like this probably isn't very good, either.”
”Ersatz coffee,” she murmured.
”Real. But not the best quality.”
She tipped her head to one side, considering. ”They have good soap but bad coffee?”
”Soap comes from a factory. They brew the coffee right here,” he answered, knowing he couldn't explain. Especially when he didn't drink the stuff. He was only going on what other people had told him.
”Oh.”
His chest tightened as he watched her gravely studying each new thing she encountered. There was so much she didn't know, so much he wanted to tell her. Not just about this world-but about the two of them. He ached to cement the bond between them by making love with her.
But he knew on a gut-wrenching level that she had spoken the truth earlier. She was not a woman who gave her trust easily.
They were still standing at the back of the store. He hadn't been paying attention to anything besides Rinna and his feelings for her. But just then, something else caught his attention. The dumpy woman with gray hair tended the cash register. He'd seen her before-in this store.
And suddenly, to his relief, he knew where he was. At the Easy Shopper where he'd stopped on the way to his campsite, when he'd remembered that he'd needed flashlight batteries.
He was about to turn toward Rinna and tell her they were no more than twenty miles from home when a customer came in and approached the clerk. He was a young man with weedy hair and a plaid s.h.i.+rt. Something about the way he walked and the way he looked put Logan on the alert.
”Can I help you?” the woman asked.
”Yeah.” The answer came out high and aggressive.
Sensing that something was wrong, Logan cupped his hand around Rinna's shoulder, drawing her behind the end of an aisle.
As he watched in sick fascination, the man drew a gun and pointed it at the clerk. ”Hands up. Into the back,” he ordered.
Rinna threw Logan a look of shock.
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