Page 17 of Call of A Eagle

“The nonprofit I worked for as a program coordinator cut my position suddenly and I couldn’t afford to live in the city anymore,” I said, straight and to the point.

“That sucks,” he replied, sounding genuinely upset and sympathetic for me, as he pressed the gas again.

“Yep, that about sums it up. I put applications in everywhere I could think of but couldn’t find anything.” A long sigh escaped me. “I loved my job. Organizing events, managing the amazing volunteers, and creating programs that I felt made a positive impact on the community were all things I freaking loved doing. I thought what I did was a necessity to the place, but that turned out to be not true.”

“But your grandma needed you.” It was a statement, not a question. There was a sense of purpose tacked onto it.

One I was grateful for.

“Yeah, she did.” I glanced at him again, and for the first time, I saw him—truly saw him.

There was more to Waylen than met the eye.

“Do you like working in the garden and on the business side of things with her as much as you did working for the nonprofit?”

I didn’t even have to think about it. “Yeah.”

“Then it all worked out,” he said, cracking a grin. “You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.”

“I didn’t expect you to say that.”

A smirk twisted his lips. “There’s more to me than bad jokes and muscle, you know.” He tossed a wink my way.

“I’m starting to see that,” I said, feeling the warmth in my chest spread as my owl fluffed her feathers, perking up.

She liked him and I was beginning to think I did too.

When we pulled into a parking spot in front of Mariam’s Diner, I realized I was more at ease than I had been in days. Waylen had a way of making the world seem a little less heavy, and for that, I was grateful.

“Here we are,” he said, turning to me with a playful smile. “Ready for the best pie in town?”

“For lunch?” I asked.

“No, but with lunch.”

“Okay,” I replied, smiling back.

He jumped out of the truck and circled around to open my door. I stepped out, and we walked together toward the diner’s double doors. Before I could reach them, Waylen darted ahead to open the door again, and I realized my cheeks ached from smiling so much.

He was such a gentleman.

I liked that about him.

As we stepped inside Mariam’s Diner, the scent of fries and savory herbs filled my nose. The lunch rush had just passed, so it was quiet, with only a few other customers scattered around.

Waylen led us to a table near the back, an easy smile never wavering from his face.

A brown-haired waitress appeared with a notepad in hand once we’d seated ourselves, placing laminated menus in front of us. “Hey, I’m Mia. I’ll be your server. What can I get y’all to drink?”

Waylen tensed beside me, his hand tightening into a fist before he quickly masked it by resting his elbow on the table.“Uh, chocolate shake,” he said, though his voice was a little off, not quite as casual as it had been moments before.

I glanced up from my menu, catching the way his eyes flicked to Mia and then darted away, like he was forcing himself not to look too long. My brow furrowed.

What was that about? Was it because she was a shifter?

I could sense her animal, but didn’t know what she was.

“I’ll have a vanilla shake and a water, please.” I flashed her a smile before shifting my attention back to Waylen.