Cornbread & Crossroads

my spell phone and opened the messages app. “See, my friends and I, we text each other. Communicate pretty regularly back and forth. Mostly dumb stuff, but when I ask one of them what’s going on, I get more than, ’Nothing much.’ When I type out the words, ‘Are you ok,’ they know to answer me with more than, ‘Am fine.’ Not one of my friends chooses not to answer when I text them. Because that’s what friends do, they—”
“All right, all right.” Dash held up his hands and waved his used napkin in the air. “I surrender. I’m sorry I wasn’t saying much in my texts.”
“Or answering or returning my calls,” I accused.
“Look, I said I was sorry. Can we leave it at that?” His bark of a request came out as more of a command.
I leaned forward. “Don’t treat me like one of your pack members who has to obey you.”
Dash rubbed a hand down his face and through his beard with a long groan. “Sorry. I wasn’t giving you an order. It’s just…there was always too much to say after I left. A text or a call wouldn’t have even scratched at the surface. And I’m not saying this to get you off my back, but taking care of the pack has taken up all of my time and energy.”
“I’m the granddaughter of the head of this town. I think I understand the dedication it takes to lead. And even Nana finds time to send me decent messages when I text her.”
Music from the band provided a soundtrack to our awkward encounter. The atmosphere around us crackled with tension, but I no longer needed or wanted to play games.
Drawing in a long, deep breath and holding it for a moment, I counted to ten before letting it out to calm myself. “Listen, I’m sorry if I’m putting you on the defensive. You don’t deserve that.”
Dash ran a hand through his hair. “No, I’m the jerk who cut you out of my life when I left. I just didn’t know what to say to you when so much changed all at once. And I knew you had some difficulties of your own to battle.”
I thought back on my time after Rita Ryder and how hard it had been to try and accept maybe never getting my powers back. Add to that the meeting with my biological cousin as well as my grandmother being falsely accused of murder. Yeah, I’d had to fight to claim the life I lived right now.
“It sounds like you kept tabs on me, though.” I threw the statement out like bait for a fish. “You didn’t seem surprised to see me with Mason.”
The wolf shifter leaned back a little in his chair. “I said that you’d be the one to save him. Can’t blame the guy for falling for you. Those fairy tale happy-ever-afters are always wrong. It’s not the Prince Charming who saves the day and gets the girl in real life. Pretty sure it’s the other way around.”
“Wait, does that make me Princess Charming?” I raised my hand and waved it around like the royal family did on television. “Maybe I should make you curtsy in front of me.”
“I’m a guy. We don’t curtsy. If I did anything, I’d bow,” Dash countered.
I straightened my spine and stuck my nose in the air. “That would be more than acceptable to this princess.”
In response to our sudden ease with each other, a wave of relief crashed through my body and pushed the tide of my tension out. I laughed out loud when he stood up and actually bowed like a true gentleman. For the first time tonight, I really looked at him, studying his face.
“Your scars have healed.” My fingers itched to trace the faded pink lines across his face.
Dash sat back down. “Only a little. Caro Whitaker and her sisters are still trying to find something that would heal them completely. I tried to tell them that marks of battle were normal in a pack.” He lifted a finger to touch one of them. “At least they don’t hurt anymore from the wolfsbane.”
A shiver ran down my spine. Dash had been in a fight to take over the pack in the Red Ridge territory after his brother Cash almost ruined it. Although the scars were healing, I figured it would take even longer for the damage underneath the surface to heal as well.
“How are things with your pack?” I asked, finding my curiosity to be genuine.
Dash pushed his plate away from him. “Much better than before. The money I make through my investment with Lee helped fund rebuilding the infrastructure. Do you remember Georgia Whitaker?”
“Of course.” She’d been one of the sisters who’d entered the barbecue contest and had been instrumental in helping save Lucky.
Something akin to pride lightened the shifter’s expression. “I gave her some money for her spirits distillery. She’s still using some of her family’s old moonshinin’ recipes though, but now she sells it legally.”
“Is it as good as the illegal kind?” I joked, glad to see Dash’s humor hadn’t withered away up in the mountains. I wondered if that was due to the influence of the trio of witch sisters he talked about.
He snorted. “At least the laws ensure it won’t make you go blind. Unless you drink enough of it.”
We shared another moment of levity, and the familiar ease we used to have with each other returned. His hand reached across the table for a split second, but he pulled it back.
“Why’d you do that?” I asked.
“Same reason I haven’t been texting you much,” he grumbled, looking away and nodding at something behind me. “Respect.”
Blythe grabbed my shoulder and plopped down next to me. “So, Dash. If you’re one of the original investors in Lee’s venture company, just how rich are you?”
Mason joined me on my other side. He bumped my knee with his as a hidden way to check in. I responded by pushing my body against