Wanted By The Cowboy Tiger (Heroes of Shifter Creek 3) by Clara Moore

speed. Derek, however, had refused to listen.
    “You talk to him,” he had insisted. “Let him know he’s throwing his whole career out the window.”
    Sharee knew. She had not realized just how bad things were before, but the call with Derek had opened her eyes on a sight that well and truly pained her. Tristan’s inner flame was wasting away, not to mention his reputation, and she simply couldn’t allow it.
    When she finally heard the front door open, she sat up straight and squared her shoulders, and she took a deep breath. She felt like she was readying herself for battle—which, in a way, was probably exactly what she was doing.
    He walked into the studio a few minutes later, dripping water all over the Persian rug. Sharee stared at him with wide eyes.
    “You’re soaked!” she cried, stating the obvious.
    Tristan shrugged. “I felt like taking a walk in the rain.”
    Jesus. This is worse than I thought. “Go get dry. I’ll make some coffee, and then we need to talk.”
    Tristan looked at her. “Have you canceled my meeting with Derek tomorrow?”
    “Yes, I have.” Sort of. “Now, please, go. I have something important to discuss with you.”
    He looked at her curiously for a moment, then he nodded and walked out of the room. Ten minutes later, they were sitting at the kitchen’s table nursing mugs full of dark, warm, blissfully caffeinated liquid. Sharee watched Tristan carefully over the brim of her mug as she drank. There was a vacant, distant look in his blue eyes. She wanted nothing more than to grab him by his shoulders and shake him until he finally snapped out of it and came back to his senses.
    “Derek told me something interesting,” she began carefully. “He told me this is the third time you cancel on him.”
    Sharee had expected some sort of contrition, maybe even an apology, but none of it came. Instead, Tristan looked back at her blankly. “Yes,” he said simply.
    “You never told me he had asked you to meet.”
    Tristan shrugged.
    Good God, give me patience. Sharee gritted her teeth and bit her tongue to prevent herself from yelling at him. After all, he was still her boss. “I’m your assistant,” she said. “I need to know these things.”
    “You’re right,” Tristan said after a moment. “I’m sorry.”
    He didn’t look or sound sorry, but Sharee would take it nonetheless. “I told him about how the new book ends,” she said. “He doesn’t like it, either. He says it’s a bad move.”
    “To be honest, I don’t give a fuck what Derek says.”
    Tristan spoke calmly, but the sentiment was very much there. Sharee stared at him in shock. “Excuse me?”
    “I like how it ends,” Tristan said. “It needs to end that way.”
    “No, it doesn’t,” Sharee argued. “I’ve read the whole thing cover to cover, and it doesn’t ‘need’ to end that way. And you know it.”
    “I like it,” Tristan said again. “End of discussion.”
    He made to stand up, and Sharee glared sharply at him.
    “Sit down,” she all but barked. She blinked, surprised at her own outburst.
    Tristan was equally stunned. His eyes widened briefly, and he sat.
    “We’re not done talking,” Sharee said. Her voice was less controlled now. She could hear the clipped, urgent tone in her own words. She decided not to fight it; Tristan probably needed a good shove anyway. “What’s going on with you?”
    Infuriatingly, he stared at her with a confused expression on his face. “What do you mean?”
    Sharee huffed, exasperated. “Don’t play dumb with me,” she said. “Both Derek and I have been noticing that you’re not the same. Your work is suffering greatly, and so will your career if you keep this up, and it’s like you don’t even care.”
    To her surprise, Tristan shrugged again. “I don’t care,” he confirmed.
    Sharee stared at him. It took a few moments for her to process that information. “What do you mean, you don’t care?”
    “Look at this place, Sharee.” Tristan