She nodded, burrowing in a little as she set her palm against my bare chest. For a second, I couldn’t remember what I’d wanted to ask her.
I swallowed hard and tried to focus.
“If you’re not worried about David, who are you worried about?”
When she didn’t answer, I lightly jostled her in my arms to wake her up again.
She smiled up at me.
“Can I sleep in your shirt tonight?”
The image of her in my shirt created a gnawing need in my gut. Yeah, she’d be sleeping in my shirt tonight, and if I were lucky, she’d be sleeping in my bed within a week. First, though, I needed her trust.
“Why did David keep you locked away?”
“Blake told him to. I really liked when you kissed my neck even though I tried not to.”
How was I supposed to think with comments like that? My gaze fell to her neck. Did she want me to kiss her again? I really wanted to. She sleepily smiled up at me, beckoning. So tempting. My fingers twitched with the need to follow the direction of my thoughts. But if I did, I wouldn’t find out about her past and tomorrow, we’d be right back to her smelling like fear.
“Who’s Blake?” I asked.
“I like you without a shirt. A lot.” Her fingers danced along my skin again, heating my blood. Then, suddenly, her expression changed from dreamy to concerned. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
“I have you, honey. Let’s get you ready for bed.”
She nodded, and l started toward the house. Inside was quiet. I had no doubt both Winifred and Jim were awake, though.
When I started up the stairs, Michelle looped her arms around my neck and pressed tightly against me. My thoughts returned to snuggling and kissing her neck. I was climbing a true stairway to heaven.
At her closed door, I hesitated. Not willing to let her go just yet, I shifted her weight to one arm and opened the door. The soft sounds of her brothers’ breathing came from the bedroom. I stepped inside and nudged the door almost shut behind me.
Her eyes fluttered closed, and her hold around my neck grew lax.
I wanted to kiss her.
“But I won’t,” I said softly.
She turned her head slightly and opened her eyes. When she saw me, she smiled. “So handsome.”
Her lids closed again, and I wondered how much she would remember tomorrow.
My resolve to leave her alone weakened. I lowered my head, watching for any sign of aversion. Her lashes remained on her cheek as I touched my nose to her temple. Inhaling, I trailed my way to her neck. Her scent soothed the need that had been growing since I first saw her, but created a new ache that demanded more.
“Mmm…”
The sound of her throaty groan caused my teeth to lengthen and my arms to tremble. But, I didn’t stop my exploration. Reaching the curve of her neck, I pressed my lips to her skin and held still. She sighed a little and relaxed further.
I shook with the need to run my tongue over her skin. To taste her. To bring us one step closer to Claiming, then Mating. Mine. Her reaction now, even though she was drunk, helped assure me that there would be a time when she would come to me willingly.
I pulled back and jostled her a little. As soon as her eyes opened, I set her on her feet. Being upright seemed to bring a clearer level of awareness to her gaze. She looked up and studied me for a moment before turning away to follow the path to her bedroom. She swayed on her feet, but I didn’t move to help her. If I touched her any more, I wasn’t sure I’d have the strength to leave again.
Waiting by the door, I listened to her undress. She didn’t get into bed as I expected but reappeared in the hallway, dressed in my shirt. The hem kissed the tops of her thighs. Cutoffs showed just as much skin but somehow, seeing her in just my shirt made that same skin so much more delicious.
I fisted my hands, wanting desperately to close the distance between us. The hesitation in her eyes kept me in place.
“Good night, Emmitt.”
With her words, she blushed slightly. A hint of her interest in me perfumed the air, and I smiled. She was mine, and soon she’d realize it.
“Sweet dreams, Michelle.” I turned and walked out the door, waiting in the hallway until I heard her crawl into bed.
Rolling my shoulders to ease some of the tension, I started down the stairs. Jim and Winifred were waiting for me at the bottom.
“How did it go?” Winifred asked.
Exhaling heavily, I motioned to Jim’s apartment. She went to the fridge and grabbed three beers. No one said anything as I opened mine and took two long swallows.
“Well, I think. I shifted and she didn’t run away screaming. So that’s something, right?”
Winnifred nodded and sipped her beer.
“She said some things to me that aren’t right. When I found her, a man named David was trying to take her back to wherever she’s from. David mentioned two other names. Blake and Richard. Last night she told me someone kept her brothers locked in their room.”
Jim growled low and I nodded.
“But when I told her I wouldn’t let David come near them again, she gave me a funny look and said she wasn’t afraid of David. I think one of those other two were keeping her and her brothers locked away.”
“Old boyfriend, maybe?” Winifred said.
“Why do you think that?”
“Humans can get possessive, too. And when they do, they tend to cross lines. It’s the only thing I can think of that would make sense. It would also explain why she fears you more than Jim. She’s interested in you, and the last man to be interested in her locked her away. Wouldn’t you be afraid of that happening again?”
I nodded slowly. It would make sense.
“But then, who was David?” Jim said.
I wished I knew.
We stayed up talking for another hour. Before Winifred went for her nightly run, I asked for some aspirin in case Michelle needed it in the morning.
Sleep eluded me as I lay on the couch. Michelle hadn’t lied when she said she needed a friend. More than that, she needed someone she could trust. But, what more could I do to show her she could trust me? Revealing what I was and that werewolves existed was my biggest secret to share. It was my way of showing Michelle that I trusted her. She could destroy lives with that simple fact, not that I thought she’d say anything. She kept secrets; she didn’t tell them. And, that was the problem. She needed to trust me so she could tell hers. I couldn’t help her until she did.
* * * *
The faint sound of a floorboard creaking brought me instantly off the couch. I filled a glass of water and grabbed the pills before taking the stairs two at a time.
Werewolves didn’t get hangovers, but my mom did, and it didn’t take much alcohol. I didn’t want Michelle feeling like that. Plus, I just needed to see her. Would she remember all of last night? Would her fear of me be gone? Would she be ready to see me as her Mate?
I knocked and waited. When nothing happened, I knocked again. Louder. From inside, I heard Liam use his nickname for Michelle. He was trying to wake her up. Good boy. I kept knocking to help.
A faint groan reached me.
“Mimi,” Liam said, softly. “Someone’s at the door. I think it’s Uncle Jim.”
Uncle Jim? Liam and I obviously needed to do some more bonding.
Another groan.
“Should I get the door?” Liam asked.
When I heard footsteps, I stopped my knocking and waited with the pills and water ready. Anticipation coiled in my chest. A moment later, the door flew open.
Her dark hair was a messy halo around her head. Sleep marks creased one cheek, and she had a hand print on her neck. And she was scowling.
Trying to hold back a smile was impossible. Especially when she was still wearing my shirt. I held out the water and pills.
She took the glass and swallowed down the pills without a word. The tilt of her head and the movement of her throat pulled my gaze. I was dying for a taste of her. Could she tell? Did she know that was why I was up here?
“I heard Liam moving around and wanted to know if he’d like to come down and eat breakfast with me,” I said.
Her eyes met mine, and I watched emotions play across her features. When she cringed, I knew she was remembering last night. I waited for her reaction, but the scent of her fear didn’t return.
“I’m never drinking again,” she whispered.
I grinned. We were good. Not Mates or even friends, but we’d get there.
“I like your pajamas,” I said, still smiling at the beautiful woman who owned my heart.
She looked down at it and frowned. “We’re not on speaking terms today,” she said. But I saw the humor in her eyes.
I laughed. She didn’t have a chance. Mine.
Liam walked down the hall, dressed for the day. I waved him over, ready to bond so Michelle could get more sleep.
“Send Aden down when he’s up.”
* * * *
We were all sitting at the island when I heard her on the stairs. Jim quickly reached out and grabbed seven more pancakes from the mountain on the platter in the middle of the island.
“Jim, save some for Michelle,” Winifred said at the same time I moved the pancake platter further out of his reach.
“She won’t be hungry,” Liam said quietly. “She never is when she has her headaches.”
The sad way he said it gave us all pause. Then Michelle walked in. Winifred went back to helping Aden cut his sausage, Jim went back to drowning his pancakes in syrup, and I forgot everything.
She’d showered, and her hair was up but still damp. The tank top hugged her curves and her jean cutoffs hugged her—
I looked up as she kissed her brothers so she wouldn’t catch my wandering, and very appreciative, eye. In the light of the kitchen, she looked pale. And the sidelong glance she gave the food told me she wasn’t yet feeling well.
Winifred gave Michelle a once-over from head to toe. Quickly focusing on fixing Michelle a plate, I pretended not to notice when Winifred turned to glare at me. The scent of old booze, particularly tequila, was hard to miss.
Emmitt, she’s under my protection. Do not allow her to consume that much alcohol again.
Yes, ma’am.
“What do you guys want to do today?” Michelle asked her brothers.
“It’s going to be hot and humid. Can we go back to the lake?” Jim asked, distracting Winifred from scolding me further.
Michelle nodded, surprising me. She hadn’t seemed too excited about going the last time.
“Michelle and I will get the groceries this time,” I said, lightly pouring syrup over her pancakes. When I handed her the plate, she wrinkled her nose.
“No,” Winifred said. “I think you should take Jim so you can teach him how to shop.”
I turned away so Michelle wouldn’t see my frown.
She was afraid and asked for another drink. I allowed two shots then she had water. I didn’t like that she felt she needed the alcohol to face the truth about who we are, but I wasn’t about to deny her, either, when she was giving me a chance. I don’t think that—
Emmitt.
I knew better than to keep going. Winifred might look old, but she was the most capable and fiercest Elder we had. If she wanted, she could lay down a beating that would make me whimper like a pup, or she could command me. Commands were far worse.
I want to ask how she’s doing, and she’s more likely to speak freely without you two here.
When I turned back around, I saw Jim finishing Michelle’s pancakes. I gave him a look, and he gave a slight shrug and nodded toward Michelle.
* * * *
Winifred was right to send me with Jim. We would have been eating beef sticks and cheese popcorn all day. As we loaded everything into the back of the truck, I contacted Winifred.
We’re done. Real food for a picnic lunch.
Meet us at the beach. We’re just rounding up the kids.
How is she?
Hung over. But surprisingly well-adjusted given what she’s just learned.
I exhaled with relief.
We’ll see you soon, she said.
“We’re meeting them at the lake,” I said as I got in behind the wheel.
The drive seemed to take longer than I remembered. Nervous anticipation wound in my gut. It seemed as if I hadn’t seen Michelle in weeks. I itched to sit on the beach with her and inhale her sweet scent.
“Thinking about her bikini again?” Jim said, interrupting my thoughts. “Me, too.”
“Find your own.” I punched him in the arm, and he laughed.
“Nah. Michelle’s a gift. The chances of two cubs from the same family Mating are about one in never. Besides, Winifred needs me.”
“I don’t think she’d agree.”
“Nope. Me neither. But, she does. She knows she won’t live forever, and the future of our kind worries her. Training me gives her peace of mind.”
“It might if she could actually train you.”
“If I made it too easy, she’d get bored and pick someone else. Nah, I’m good for her.”
“You think you’re good for everyone.”
When we pulled into the gravel lot, Winifred’s car was the only one there. On the beach, the boys ran around while Winifred watched them. Michelle was already lying on a blanket in the sun. She wore a tank top, cotton shorts, and a large hat that covered most of her face and shaded her eyes so I couldn’t see if she was awake or sleeping.
“Ah, too bad,” Jim said. “Still no bikini sighting.”
That did disappoint me a little. But knowing I’d get to spend the whole day with her made up for it. However, she didn’t move at the sound of the truck or when we slammed the doors shut.
Jim pulled one cooler from the back, and I took the other. The boys cheered when they caught sight of us. I smiled and called them over for something to drink. My gaze drifted over to Michelle as I set the cooler down. She’d pulled up a section of her top, exposing her stomach to the early morning sun. That bare strip of skin tempted me.
“Emmitt,” Liam said, calling my name a second time as he tugged at my hand.
“Sorry, buddy. What did you say?”
“What kind of drink did you get us?”
I gave them each a juice box. Jim stole one, too, and the three of them wandered to the shoreline. I glanced back at Michelle. Still nothing. Her chest continued to rise and fall in a slow, steady rhythm.
“Let her sleep,” Winifred said from beside her.
I nodded and joined the other three at the water. It was too cold for swimming so we built sandcastles and moats for a while. Sweat started to shine on their pink little faces by the time we finished, and the cold water didn’t seem so cold anymore.
Their splash into the water woke Michelle enough that she looked up. Then she went right back to her nap.
I was feeling attention starved. Deciding I’d waited long enough, I went to the cooler and grabbed a bottle of water. I opened it and took a long drink, eyeing Michelle as I did so. She probably needed water, too. The idea of sharing the same bottle, our lips touching the same space almost like a kiss, set a heavy beat in my chest. Winifred didn’t say anything as I moved to stand beside Michelle.
While I was trying to decide how to wake her, some of the water from the cold bottle dripped onto her stomach. She made the cutest squealing sound and sat up.
“Sorry,” I said, trying to smother my insincere grin. I offered her the water. “Your head will start hurting again. Drink up.”
She took the bottle and eyed it for a second before arching a brow at me. She knew I’d had some. Would she care? I shrugged and waited to see what she’s do. She uncapped it and took several swallows.
No fear. Just her sweet pancake and syrup scent, getting stronger by the second.
It just made my need to be near her worse.
When she handed me the bottle, I settled on the edge of blanket, crowding her.
“Just like your father,” Winifred mumbled as she stood and went to inspect the finished castles.
Michelle remained where she was, eyeing me. Still not trusting me. I needed more answers.
“About last night,” I said.
“Don’t want to talk about it.” She moved over and went to lay in Winifred’s spot.
I moved fast, shifting positions in a blur so she’d be using me as a pillow. When her head touched my stomach, she sat back up and gave me a startled look.
“How did you move—” She shook her head, not finishing her question.
She was clamming up. Something she did all too well. I needed her to talk.
“I thought after showing you what I am, you’d have more questions for me. Other than if you could wear my shirt.”
She blushed and tipped the hat to try to hide her face. “Nope.”
“You sure?”
“Yep.”
It hurt a little that she didn’t want to know anything about me. I could understand not asking about the fur, but what about other stuff? My interests. My hobbies. The same things I really wanted to know about her, like her favorite color. Maybe I just needed to keep it simple and light.
“Green,” I said randomly.
She glanced at me. “What?”
“It’s my favorite color. What’s yours?”
“If I tell you, will you let me lay down again?”
I grinned, knowing she’d talk.
“I don’t know that I have one. I like looking at the sky, though, so maybe blue.”
Had she been so locked away that she’d often looked at the sky and wished for freedom? That made me a little sad for her and made my need for answers grow stronger. She talked when her guard was down. Alcohol worked, but I wouldn’t be using that again. As I studied her tired profile, I had another idea. Grinning, I moved over on the blanket and gave her space to lay back down. Maybe I could get something out of her if she was almost asleep.
She took the bait and lay down after a few more swallows of water. Minutes passed. Her breathing slowed, and her expression relaxed. I couldn’t stop watching her. What made her so perfect?
“What kind of music do you like?” I asked quietly.
“I don’t remember.” The quiet words escaped on an exhale. She was so close to sleeping.
“Why not?” I kept my tone light.
“Blake hated the noise.”
Blake again. Her leg twitched, and I knew I was losing her to a deeper sleep. Reaching out, I gently ran my fingers through her hair.
“Who’s Blake?” I asked.
She didn’t wake enough to answer.
After several minutes, I stood and joined Winifred as she watched Jim play with the kids in the shallows.
“Try not to obsess over it,” she said.
“What part? That she was kept prisoner by someone? That what she went through made it difficult for her to trust me? Or that there are people from her past still trying to find her, and I can do nothing about it because she won’t confide in me?”
“All of it.” Winifred turned to study me. “Be patient with her. She needs time to heal from whatever happened to her. And, she will heal, Emmitt. When she does, she’ll remember your patience.”
“I hope you’re right. I just hate hearing a name and not knowing who it is.”
“You said she mentioned a stepfather passing away. Perhaps that was his name.”
For the next hour, Jim and I played with the boys while Winifred went back to keep an eye on Michelle. I knew the moment she woke. She sat up and looked around in confusion. Patience, I reminded myself as I kept my focus on Liam.
“How long was I out?”
Despite the distance, I could hear her clearly as she spoke to Winifred.
“About an hour. Almost time for lunch.”
“Let’s try something different,” I said to Liam. “I’ll teach you guys a way to splash Jim with more water.” Using my clasped hands, I spun a slow circle in the water to show them. The turn also gave me a chance to watch Michelle.
“Can I ask you a question?” she said softly. “Do I have a scent?”
“Everyone does, dear. As unique as a fingerprint.”
“Why would a werewolf want to scent me?”
What? I whipped my head her direction. Our gazes met and held.
Why would she ask that? I sent Winifred. I’ve never—
Emmitt, focus on what you’re doing. You’re making her uncomfortable.
Jim chose that moment to send a wave of water my way. It hit me in the side of the head, filling my ear. The boys giggled loudly.
I didn’t care what Winifred said, I needed to understand what Michelle was asking. Was it when I’d stopped her from leaving? How would she have known I was scenting her? We’d never discussed that.
Michelle blushed and dropped her gaze, and Winifred gave me a warning scowl before responding to her.
“I’d be happy to answer that question, but I need to explain more than that for you to understand. If you’re willing.”
Liam tugged on my arm.
“Aren’t you going to get Jim back?”
“I think Emmitt needs to walk a little deeper into the cold water,” Jim said.
I turned away from Michelle to give Jim a discreet gesture of brotherly affection while still paying attention to what Winifred said next.
“Emmitt shared with me that he showed you who we are. People use the term werewolf, but we are more than a shapeshifting creature of the night. We are the opposite of a person with multiple personalities. We are one personality with two bodies. Who we are doesn’t change, no matter the form we choose. However, there are benefits to each form we wear. We are faster on four legs than two, but not by much. When in our fur, we have better protection because of our teeth and claws. Yet, some things, like our sense of smell, hearing, and sight, don’t change.
“Our sense of smell is more vital to us than our sight. We can smell an object long after it has disappeared. A scent can tell us more than we could ever see. Emotions like fear and desire can flavor a person’s usual fragrance. Through our senses, we read the world and react to it.
“Scenting is when we use our sense of smell to identify potential Mates. Their scent calls to us. It’s more than just liking the fragrance. It’s the rightness of it.” Winifred paused for a moment. “I’ve never had to explain this to someone who didn’t have our noses. So let me know if I’m not making sense.”
Tell her she smells like warm pancakes, I sent to Winifred.
I will not. Mind your business.
Jim sent another giant wave of water our way. I shook my head and continued to listen while I helped Liam return the favor.
“I like the smell of strawberries, but I wouldn’t want my clothes to smell like them. It’s a good smell, but not right for clothes. It’s the same for finding potential Mates. Although my scent may be pleasant to several of my kind, it might not be just right for any of them. Because of the nuance between an alluring scent and the rightness of that perfect scent, nature threw in a backup plan. It’s something we feel deep inside ourselves, like a tug in our stomach, reeling us toward the one we’re meant to be with. The scent calls us, possibly from a greater distance than we can see, but the pull cinches the deal.”
Winifred paused for a moment, and I was about to look up when Winifred communicated with me.
By the scent of her panic and her quick look in your direction, I would say she feels a strong pull for you.
I agree, but, I don’t want her to bolt because she thinks she has no choice.
You want me to lie?
Of course not. I just wish you would have…I don’t know…softened the truth a bit.
“It’s a lot to take in, but nothing to worry about. With humans, we werewolves typically don’t feel or scent anything that would indicate we’re compatible with you. Oh, a few have tried to have relationships, but they were shallow connections that never lasted long.”
Not what I meant. I sent her a look that might have earned me a smack upside my head in my younger years.
Winifred ignored me and handed Michelle another bottle of water.
“Would you like me to tell you more about our kind?”
Michelle nodded hesitantly, and Winifred explained our history and how Mom had helped unite the small packs.
“Charlene put the backbone back in our pack and brought us together by sheer determination. It’s because of her plans for pack growth that I am here with Emmitt and Jim. We are trying to establish another pack location because the main one in Canada is growing too large for the space.
“Our society is like any other in that we each have a place in it. Elders are the keepers of knowledge and peace. Pack leaders keep the peace within their own pack, but Elders keep the peace between packs.”
Winifred’s explanation caused me a brief moment of guilt. She made it sound like there were many packs. There weren’t. Not really. There were still secluded families of three or four members who considered themselves a pack, but there weren’t packs like my father’s or like what my parents wanted me to start here. A large pack made up of many families gave the members a kind of strength and security in the human community that the smaller packs would never have.
People were depending on me to step up, and I wasn’t.
“Cut it out,” Jim said so only I would hear. “Guilt’s meant for troublemakers like me, not poster boys like you.”
I didn’t respond as Winifred continued.
“Almost all werewolves belong to a pack. However, some werewolves choose to live on their own. Those we call Forlorn. They can still hear the Elders and have the same compulsion to obey, but they follow no pack leader.”
“So Emmitt’s mom is the pack leader?” Michelle asked.
That made me smile. Mom would have laughed.
“Technically, no. Emmitt’s father is the leader. But, Charlene influences the pack in her own right.”
Michelle was quiet for a moment.
“Where in there does biting become involved?”
Winifred coughed to cover her laugh, Jim laughed outright, but I didn’t laugh at all.
Winifred, I didn’t say a thing about biting. Ask Jim if he did.
There was a pause before she confirmed he hadn’t either.
“Can I ask where these questions are coming from?” Winifred asked Michelle.
“Just curious. Maybe we should eat lunch.”
Michelle was obviously trying to change the subject.
I’m worried, I sent to Winifred.
I think you are right to be. I’m considering sending out a message to all werewolves asking for someone to step forward if they’ve shared information with a human or heard of someone sharing information with a human.
Let’s hold off on that. There will be questions, and Michelle isn’t ready for attention from any more of our kind.
Very well.
* * * *
After we got home from the lake, Michelle and the boys stayed in her apartment for the rest of the night. Restless, I went upstairs and continued my work across the hall. It didn’t take long for Jim to join me. While I painted, he leaned against the island cabinets I’d installed and sipped one of the beers he’d brought with him.
“Spit it out,” I said after a long silence.
“Why? It’s good beer.”
I shook my head and grinned. I’d forgotten just how much he goofed around.
“You know what I think?” he said.
“That we should go to the bar and drink a week’s wages in an effort to get drunk?”
He laughed. “That would have been my thought if Winifred hadn’t threatened to command me never to drink alcohol if I ‘wasted pack money’ like that again.”
“Ouch.” I moved to paint under the hanging cabinets.
“Yeah. Did you know she commanded me to go a whole day without eating?”
I stopped painting to look at him. His expression was entirely serious, and I couldn’t tell if he was lying.
“She wouldn’t do that.”
“She would if she wanted me to learn what it felt like to be compelled to do something that I was completely against doing.” He shrugged. “Training exercise.”
“And, how was it?”
“I nearly died,” he said before tipping back his beer.
“Doubt it.”
“She baked all day. I could smell the cookies. I could see the cookies. I could even touch the damn things. But I couldn’t bring myself to put them in my mouth. Man, I wanted to. I really did.”
He cracked open another beer.
“When my time was up and I could eat again, I nearly ripped her door off trying to get to the cookies.”
“Bet she had something to say about that.”
“Yep. She did. Just like Michelle will when she finally gives you the go-ahead to have her cookies. Don’t let your obsession control you, Emmitt, or it will drive her away.”
I stared at him, really seeing my brother and what he had to offer.
“When did you get to be so damn smart?”
“If you ask Winifred, I’m not.” He grinned, then sauntered out the door. I stayed in the apartment, working until exhaustion won out over my need to be close to Michelle.
The next day, Michelle brought Liam and Aden out to play. They ran for the sprinkler, but she was pensively quiet as she sat on the porch. Considering everything she’d been through in such a short time, I left her to her thoughts and played in the water with the boys.
The following day, I twitched with what I felt was a growing distance between us. After Jim left for work, I went upstairs to the new apartment. It was coming along nicely. Another week or two and it would be ready for Michelle and the boys. Then, I’d be living right across the hall.
Around seven, I heard the boys run down the steps, and Aden came back up crying not long afterward.
Problem? I sent Winifred.
He wanted to play with Jim. They’re growing bored.
I can come play.
No, I think it would be best for you to finish the apartment. I have a better idea to keep them busy.
I went back to grouting the backsplash in the kitchen and listened to Michelle negotiate with Aden to calm him down. A few minutes later, Winifred knocked on Michelle’s door.
“Good morning, Michelle. Liam mentioned he didn’t know the ABC song. Would you mind if they spent some time with me a few days a week so I can work on their alphabet with them?”
Silence greeted the question.
“There’s nothing wrong with them not knowing their ABCs, yet. Four and five is just the right age to start learning. I have so many of my old materials left, and, frankly, I miss working with children. I thought I would offer.”
“I need to make cookies,” Aden said firmly.
I could just picture him crossing his arms in a stubborn stance and grinned.
“I’ll send him down when we’re done,” Michelle said.
Since both the apartment doors were open, I heard the two of them make the dough and Aden tromp downstairs when his part was done. Michelle quietly put the cookies in the oven, and heat began to drift into the hall. Even with the windows open, it was growing too hot to work inside. I finished grouting the tiles on the bathroom floor then went to gather what I needed to paint the exterior. I figured I’d start with the third floor and work my way down.
When I stepped out onto the porch, I found Michelle lying on her stomach on a blanket. She looked up at me with a smile. The usual t-shirt she wore over her suit was missing. I swallowed hard at the sight of all that honeyed skin and almost dropped half the painting supplies.
She jumped and offered to help me. I barely noticed surrendering two cans of paint because I was staring at the prettiest bikini top that ever existed. My mind went into overdrive imagining what lay beneath.
She lifted a can. “What are you doing with all of this?”
With effort, I met her gaze. My head was fuzzy, and my ears were ringing. It was like her chest had a gravitational pull on my eyes. They wanted to drift down again. Sweat coated my forehead. I hoped my teeth weren’t getting longer. Her expectant gaze had me scrambling to recall what she’d asked. The supplies. Right.
“The outside needs painting, too. I thought I’d start on it while the paint dried in there.”
My voice was rough with need, and I hoped she wouldn’t notice. My worry broke my concentration, and I looked down. It wasn’t that I was a sex-starved pervert—I mean, I was that too—but there was more to this pull than that. Every new inch I saw, every fact I discovered about her past, it all just made me crave more. More Michelle. More time together. More of a relationship than what we had now. And, if I wanted more, I needed to play it cooler than I was. Just like Jim had said.
I turned away and walked to the far corner of the porch. With each step I focused on my breathing and my pulse, trying to calm and center myself. Then, the aroma of fresh cookies hit me, bringing back Jim’s reference from the night before. I wanted her cookies badly…damn it. Steady and cool, I reminded myself as I slowly breathed in and out.
“Is the apartment almost done?” she asked from behind me. She set the cans next to the pile of supplies I made.
When I turned around, I felt more like myself and easily maintained eye contact.
“I still need to work on some plumbing, but it’s close. Want to see it?”
While she hadn’t blinked at my prior eye-groping, my steady, respectful gaze made her nervous.
“That’s okay,” she said.
I didn’t want her to run away.
“I could actually use your input on the colors in the bathroom. Nana bought a variety of cans on clearance, and I’m down to a yellow and a grey.”
She nodded, and I led her to her future new apartment. I watched her study the large, open living room and kitchen. Her gaze slid over the neutral wall colors, the roughed-in kitchen cabinets, and the large, earth-toned tiles. She looked impressed, which made it easier to breathe.
“Wow. This looks great.”
“I’m glad you like it,” I said. “Let me show you the bathroom.”
I led her down the short hallway to the bathroom. The toilet was sitting outside the door, waiting to be installed.
“We can’t go in,” I said, stopping by the toilet. “The grout is still wet, but you can see the colors in the tile from here.”
She moved to peek in, her hair brushing over her shoulder and knocking the molding I’d set against the frame. I reached out and grabbed it before it fell. Something about my reaction scared her, though. The sour scent of her fear filled the air, and she shuddered.
“Don’t,” I said hoarsely.
She looked up at me with wide eyes.
“You are the one person who will never have to fear me.”
Fear turned to confusion.
“I’m sorry I kneed you,” she said.
I was sorrier that I’d scared her enough to do it. Reaching out, I gently touched her cheek, feathering my fingertips over her skin from temple to jaw. Her pulse jumped, and the sweet smell of her interest in me filled the air.
“I’m sorry I scared you,” I said, moving closer.
Her gaze went to my lips, an invitation if I ever saw one. The hitch of her breath as her gaze met mine was the confirmation I needed. I moved in.
“And I’m sorry I missed it,” Jim said from the living room, making her jump.
I dropped my hand and glanced over her shoulder at Jim. Michelle put some distance between us and gave the bathroom one more look.
“The yellow won’t work, but the grey might. Too bad you didn’t have a blue-grey to match the flecking in the tile.”
“Thank you,” I said. If she wanted blue-grey, I’d buy some.
She nodded and started toward the living room where Jim stood watching us.
“Why are you here, Jim?” I asked.
“Aden mentioned something about cookies. Hope you didn’t give any to Emmitt.”
When Michelle stepped into the light of the large room, Jim wolf-whistled.
“I regret my decision to think of you as a sister,” he said with a grin. “Nana can sure pick a suit. I think you should really wear a t-shirt over that, though.”
Michelle blushed.
“Shut up, Jim,” I said, keeping my tone even as she walked out the door. Once she was out of hearing, I turned on him.
“What was that?”
“That was me stopping you from making a mistake.”
“A mistake? You’re telling her to wear more clothes.” I ran a hand over the back of my neck, frustrated.
“She’s already confused and scared with what she has on her plate. Kissing her would have just added more, and she would have taken off for sure. I thought I made that clear last night.”
It annoyed me to know he was probably right.
“You haven’t taken your Elder vows, yet. So stop interfering like you are one.”
He had the nerve to laugh.
“Even if I went downstairs and took them now, you still wouldn’t have liked what I did. Hell, I didn’t like what I did. But it was a necessary block to see this to the end, Emmitt.”
* * * *
Michelle and the boys ate in their apartment that night. Winifred didn’t comment when I declined to have dinner with her and Jim. I opted to go for a run instead. Sprinting between trees and howling at the moon—more like yelling my frustration at it—helped calm me down a little. I was still too restless when I returned, so I worked in the apartment, touching up paint until close to dawn. Jim’s couch didn’t really appeal to me, but I lay on it anyway, with the apartment door open so I could listen.
Jim unintentionally woke me from a light sleep when he left. After a quick shower, I went back to the third floor and looked at my progress from the evening before. I’d scraped the back side of the house so well, very little still clung to the wood siding. Taking a wire brush, I went over the surface one more time.
From within, I heard Michelle and the boys wake and get ready for their day. By the time I finished the back wall, Winifred had already claimed the boys for another morning of learning their alphabet. I knew she was only too happy to teach two willing boys. Jim wasn’t the only one who’d been lonely here.
A sound on the porch pulled me from my thoughts. The steps were light, but not light enough for a werewolf. I smiled and purposely met her as she rounded the corner. She gasped in surprise, almost running into me. I caught her with one arm and stole the cookie she had in her hand with the other.
She nervously smiled at me when I took a bite and offered it back to her.
“I actually brought it for you,” she said. Anxiety coated her scent.
I studied her in silence and wondered how long it’d take to learn her moods and reactions. According to Dad, Mom still kept him guessing. I didn’t like it.
“Will you tell me about your family?” She took up the broom I’d set aside and started sweeping. “Please.”
I wanted to grin. She was finally asking questions.
“What do you want to know?”
“Anything. Everything.” She shrugged, and I wished I understood why she was so anxious. Was she worried my family wouldn’t like her? They’d love her once they knew about her.
“My dad’s side is from Canada. My mom, from the states. They met when she was pretty young. The way my dad tells it, it was love at first sight. My mom just rolls her eyes.” I grinned and moved to start scraping an untouched side of the house. She trailed behind me, listening as she swept up what I took off.
“My dad’s brother lives in Canada with them at the Compound, which is a collection of old buildings that make up the community I grew up in. It has been struggling for decades to support itself while keeping away from the corrupt influences of the outside world,” I said. It still made me want to laugh that so many of our kind still avoided contact with humans, as if humanity’s insatiable need for more would somehow extinguish the werewolf need for simplicity.
“Corrupt?”
“Some believed that humans would lead the world to devastation through their wars, pollution, and overpopulation. They thought by withdrawing from it, they could save themselves.
“The day my mom showed up, about thirty years ago, changed the direction they’d been headed. She made them see they were hurting themselves by hiding from the truth. They’d created their own distrust by not learning about the changes they were scorning, and they had made it harder for future generations to rejoin the world. That’s part of the reason they sent me back here to live with Nana Wini.”
I slowed down when I reached the corner to let Michelle catch up so we wouldn’t be on separate sides of the house. When she finished the last neat pile, I started the new wall.
“The more of us who leave to learn about the world, the better it is for others when we go back and share what we learned. The money we earn doesn’t hurt, either. Part of the reason I know what I’m doing here is because I grew up helping with this kind of work back home.
“My mom started making improvements as soon as there was money, and she hasn’t stopped. People actually have beds to sleep in now.”
I cringed at the way that sounded. For us, sleeping on the ground or floor wasn’t a problem. We shifted to our fur and got comfortable. In fact, many of my Dad’s generation had refused beds for a long time, thinking it would make them soft and weak. Mom eventually won them over.
“So the remodeling inside, the painting outside, you learned all this from your mom?”
I nodded. “Can I ask you a question now?”
Reluctantly, she agreed.
“Will you tell me about your stepfather?”
She sighed and turned her head to look out over the trees. I wasn’t sure she was going to answer at first.
“It was just me and my mom until after my thirteenth birthday. She met Richard through a friend of a friend.”
“Richard?” If Richard was the stepfather, then who was Blake?
“He was nice. He treated my mom well, and I think he really loved her. Then, things changed.”
She stopped talking and got a far-off look in her eyes. I kept working, hoping she’d continue.
“How did they change?” I asked, after I’d slowly moved several feet away from her.
She shook herself and started sweeping.
“My mom died just after Aden was born. Richard shut us away from the world for four years.”
I stopped what I was doing and looked at her. Her own stepfather had locked them up? No child should endure that from someone meant to protect.
“Richard? Then, who’s Blake?”
She paled and set the broom aside.
“I have to check on the boys,” she said as she reached for her door.
I didn’t see her again for the rest of the day.
When Jim got home, he was quick to note the absence of Michelle and the boys.
“What did you do?” he asked, throwing a beer in my direction.
Winifred came from nowhere and snatched the beer from the air just before it reached my hand.
“You were saying?” she said as she grinned and cracked the bottle open. Winifred might be old, but she still knew how to play, and to her, we were still pups who needed some fun…sometimes. When we didn’t need to be kept in line.
“I’m not sure. She was helping me on the third floor. We were talking. She was actually asking questions about Mom and the Compound. She seemed interested in who we were. Then, I asked about her stepdad. She talked for a bit. She seemed to like him. When she said his name was Richard, I asked who Blake was. That’s when she left, saying she needed to check on the boys.”
Jim and Winifred were silently thoughtful.
“Whoever Blake is, he’s the one she’s running from,” I said.
