Bo’s gaze flickered over her stretched leg. She knew she heard a little growl, but she pretended she didn’t. She liked giving the hybrid her infamous blank stare. She could tell it drove him nuts.

“These aren’t the sneakers Norm recommended,” he said.

“Those were expensive and these are on sale. And they’re cute!”

His gaze continued to move along the length of her leg. “You have a very pronounced arch.”

“Years of ballet and gymnastics.” To illustrate, she went up on her toes with the leg she still had on the ground.

And there goes that growl again.

Okay, she’d admit it. She was having the best time. The absolute best! Blayne knew she shouldn’t be. She knew she was in huge denial over being betrayed by a very close friend or possibly friends, but playing with Bo was making all that much easier to deal with. Why? Because he took everything so seriously! Honestly . . . sneakers? He was upset over sneakers? He almost made it too easy to toy with him.

“If you’re going to run around here,” he said, trying desperately not to look at any of the hockey equipment taunting him from across the room, “with all this packed snow and ice, you should take Norm’s recommendations.”

“He makes expensive recommendations. I’ve put myself on a budget because I won’t abuse our friendship.”

“Why don’t you just admit you’re always cheap.”

“Not cheap. Thrifty! I love getting deals.”

“A Prah-Duhhhh watch is not a deal.”

“It was pink and sparkly.”

“And couldn’t tell time.”

“Are we back here again?”

Bo stood and grabbed Blayne by the ankle, flipping her over. “Hey!” Carrying her by her one leg he took her back over to Norm Blackmon, local Maine sloth bear and sports supplier.

The inconsiderate hybrid held her up in front of Norm, ignoring her hysterical giggles. “These aren’t going to work for her.”

“I know,” Norm grumbled. He talked in a grumble, Blayne had noticed, all the time. “Tried to tell her. She kept looking for cheaper. Cheaper ain’t always better, Miss Blayne Thorpe.”

“But these are cuter,” she reminded them both. “And how come everybody in Maine uses my full name?”

“Get her the other ones.” Bo yanked off the sneakers she wore and handed them back to Norm. “A few pairs, different colors. I have no idea how long we’ll be here.”

“Yep.”

“You’re ignoring my wants and needs.”

“Quiet.” He held her upside down until Norm returned with the sneakers. Bo flipped her over and placed her on her feet. After allowing her a short dizzy spell from all the blood rushing backand forth between both ends, he took the shoebox from Norm and crouched in front of her.

“That pair’s a bit bigger in the toe ’cause she’s wearing the thick thermal socks I gave her. Those will keep her feet warm when she’s running or just walking around.”

“Good. You better give me twenty more pairs of those, too. She’s not real good with doing laundry.”

“Hey!”

Bo finished lacing up and tying her sneakers. “How does that feel?”

“Like I may lose toes due to lack of circulation.”

“Oh.” He undid the laces and retied them, this time without causing her acute pain. “Better?”

“Yep.”

He stood, forcing Blayne to drop her head back to see him.

“You have everything you need?” he asked.

“And more.”

He grunted—she decided to take it as a verbal agreement—and held his hand out to the salesgirl who worked for Norm. “Here.” He attached a small MP3 player to her new, insulated vest, dropping the earplugs into her palm. “I had them download some music for you.”

“How do you know what I like?”

“I cleaned that pit you call an apartment. Not hard to figure out what you like from that. And you have very eclectic taste in music.”

“I bore easily.” Blayne smiled. “Thank you for this.” She touched the very expensive player that even refurbished and online, she couldn’t find a reasonable price she was willing to spend to get one. “That was very sweet.”

“Uh-huh.”

Grigori walked into the store carrying a medium-size bag from a jewelry store. “Here,” he said, reaching into the bag and pulling out a square box. He handed it to his nephew. Even if Blayne didn’t know what it was from the shape and dimension of the gift box, she’d have known from Bo’s reaction. Like a drug addict about to get a long-needed fix, he tore open the gift box and took out a big, silver watch. He put it on his wrist and sighed happily.

When Blayne looked up at Grigori, he quickly said, “It wasn’t me. According to his mother, he was born this way.”

Grigori took out another box and opened it, taking out a smaller version of Bo’s watch and placing it on Blayne’s wrist. “Anytime you’re out of the house or away from me and Bo, you wear this, Blayne. You understand? Any problems, you use this button here to open the face and push the button inside to send out an alert. This signal goes directly to the county’s police department, so someone will come right for ya. Okay?”

“Where’s the one Bo gave me?” she asked.

“It’s not going to be easy to fix.”