I didn’t pass out, but it took several minutes for my brain to come back online. When it did, I noticed Buddy had moved back up the bed until he spooned me. I hadn’t been out of it long, though. His breaths still came a little faster than was normal.
I relaxed into him, matching my breathing to his.
He pressed a kiss to the back of my head. “You called me Theo.”
“Uh-huh. I did.”
“Nobody calls me Theo. Everyone calls me Buddy.”
I shrugged. “But you don’t like Buddy.”
He didn’t say anything. I didn’t know how to interpret his silence. “I don’t have to call you Theo if you don’t want me to. It’s just that people should call you what you want them to, not what they want to.”
“It’s my own fault. I never told people I didn’t like the name Buddy.”
“Well, you should. Anyway, I mostly think of you as Theo now. And when we’re together, like this especially, you should be called by your name.”
He buried his head in my neck. “Thank you. I don’t remember the last time someone has asked me what I wanted. Everyone’s always sort of assumed.”
“What did they assume?”
He snorted. “Everything. No one even asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. They always said stuff like, ‘I bet you’re going to be an enforcer like your grandfather, right?’ and ‘With your size, you’re going to be a great enforcer.’”
“I take it you didn’t want to be an enforcer?”
“Not at all.”
“And you didn’t set out to be a café owner either, did you?”
“Nope.”
“Tell me, Theo. What did you want to be when you grew up?”
“It doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Sure it does. It’s never too late. But even if it is, it can’t hurt to play pretend sometimes.” I turned in his embrace until we faced each other. “What do you want to be when you grow up, little Theo?”
His gaze darted away for a second, and I could practically hear his debate about whether to share or not. Finally, he said, “A teacher.”
I leaned back to get a better view of his face. “Really?”
His expression closed off. “See why I didn’t tell anyone?”
“No,” I said, honestly baffled. “You’d have made a great teacher. In fact, you would still make a great teacher.”
He scoffed. “People take one look at me and see brute. They see enforcer or bodyguard. They see the hired muscle.”
It was my turn to flinch. I wondered if he would ever forgive me for that careless comment.
“They tried to get me to start the enforcer training program as soon as I turned eighteen. I told my mother that I wasn’t ready—that I saw my life going in a different direction. She thought I was just not ready to commit to something since I was so young and the enforcer training is rumored to be intense. She’s the one who recommended I go to college instead. A background in law enforcement would be useful, and it would give me time to get used to the idea of being an enforcer.”
“And then your parents died and left you a café that you also didn’t want.”
He nodded. “But that was better than being an enforcer. It gave me an income and a purpose. More importantly, it allowed me stay in town and raise my brothers, so I’m grateful for that.”
“What are you going to do now that your brothers are grown? Stick with a café that you’re ambivalent about at best? Continue to do odd jobs for the Shifter Council where your body is considered your best asset?”
“Not a lot of options anymore.”
“That’s a load of bullshit.”
He jerked his head up. “Excuse me?”
“You’re thirty, not sixty. There’s nothing to stop you from making a change. Go back to school, become a teacher.”
“It’s not that easy. I’ve got my brothers to think about. And the café.”
I scoffed. “Your brothers are old enough to take care of themselves. As a younger brother, I can assure you that if they thought you were putting your dreams on hold for them, they’d be pissed.”
He opened his mouth to reply, but I kept going. “It’s one thing when they were little. They needed you then. And sure, they’ll always need you. But their need is different now. They don’t need you to step in and fix stuff anymore. They need someone to bounce ideas off, and to provide emotional support. Someone to have their back, but not take over.” The words came fast, surprising me with the emotion in them. There was the slightest chance that I wasn’t talking about the Brady boys any longer. Well, then.
“You’re right,” Buddy said softly. “They don’t need me the way they used to. And now I’m lost. Before my parents’ death, I was given a direction to take. After their death, my focus was my brothers and the café. Now that they’re off doing their own thing, I don’t know what to do next. I can’t go back to where I was. I don’t want to go into law enforcement. I don’t want to become an enforcer.”
“Don’t go back,” I said. “Go forward.”
His smile, when it came, was sad. “But what if I can’t?”
“You can. You just have to believe you can.” Damn it, the words were too clichéd, so I tried to find the right way to show I sincerely believed Buddy was capable of more than he knew. “Anyone who can run a business and raise three boys at the age of nineteen can accomplish anything he puts his mind to.”
“The thing is, what if everyone has been right all along? What if my only worth is my size? They call me when they need someone intimidating. They call me when they need someone big.”
I could strangle every anonymous person who made up Buddy’s they. “Didn’t they call you to help Joey learn to control his animal?”
“Yeah, but it was because they needed someone whose shift was as big as a lion. Less chance that he’d fang out and eat me.”
“And did you teach him control?”
He shrugged. “A bit. Mostly I taught him ways to coexist with the giant predator he sometimes turns into.”
“And how did you do that? Did you fight him for dominance and impose your will on him? Did you intimidate him with your growly grizzly?” I almost laughed at the affronted look on his face. The moment was too important. I didn’t want him to think I was making fun of him.
“Of course not.”
“Let me guess. You taught him yoga.”
He opened his mouth, paused, then shut it. A second later he tried again. “Actually, yes. And mediation. And had him spend time in his furry form to get used to that side of him.”
As I’d suspected. “Right. So your size and intimidating scowl had nothing to do with it. Your heart and patience are what got the job done.” I placed my hand on his chest. “Your heart is the most amazing thing about you. Follow your heart.”
Buddy grinned, and this time there was humor, not sadness in it. “If the whole journalism thing doesn’t work out, at least we know you can get a job writing inspirational posters.”
I yanked at his chest hair. “Shut up. I’m being serious.”
He covered my hand with his. “I know. And I appreciate it, I swear.”
Yawning, I settled my head on his chest. “Promise me something?”
“Of course.”
“Promise me that when you get back to Cody, you’ll make serious plans to go after what you want for your future. Go back to school or start your own yoga studio or whatever. As long as it’s what you want.”
Whether it was the late night, the early morning sex, or the emotional discussion, my eyelids started to droop. I couldn’t be sure if I imagined his soft “I promise” as I succumbed to the soporific effect of his heartbeat in my ear.
Chapter Thirteen
“WE should go out tonight.” We’d rolled into Manhattan just after dinner. We’d spent the six hours between our motel in the woods and the big city debating our best approach to rooms for the three days we were going to be in New York. Originally, I’d planned to spend the weeken
d in Chicago before heading east for my Monday appointment, but thanks to ignorant hunters, room-ransackers, and a late-night departure, we had time to kill in the city.
We’d debated whether to find something rural and drive into the city for my meetings or find a hotel in the center of the city. Buddy believed rural would mean less expensive and less obvious a stopping point. He thought it would be smarter to lie low. I’d argued that it would be a lot easier to get lost in a city of millions where people didn’t notice strangers as much. Because we’d be stuck there for three days, it seemed like anonymity would be a better choice.
We’d gone back and forth as we traversed Pennsylvania on an assortment of back roads that showed off some great scenery, but that made the trip significantly longer than it needed to be.
He’d argued that so many strangers in one place made it hard to be an effective bodyguard.
I’d argued that no one would notice us among a group of tourists, so we could stay incognito and see all the sights.
He’d finally agreed that my way was logical. And deep down, I think he was excited to explore the city.
Our plans to limit exposure meant that public transportation was our friend. We found a parking garage outside the city to stash the Mini and took the train into Manhattan.
Now that we were settled into our decent-but-not-great hotel room, though, I was getting antsy. I paced the beige confines of the room, trying to find something to distract me from the waiting.
“Go out?” Buddy asked from the bed where he lounged, watching television. “It’s only been two hours since we had dinner.”
“I don’t want dinner. I want to go out. We’ve been stuck in rooms and cars this whole time and we deserve some fun.”
“It’s not safe.”
I stopped next to his bed to glower down at him. “We’ve done a lot of things to make this trip safe. We don’t have to go out for long. I just need to blow off some energy. Be social for an hour. We’re in New York, for crying out loud. I can’t tell people I came all the way to New York City just to sit in a hotel room the whole time.”
“We’re joining one of the city tours tomorrow. You’ll probably get your fill of New York City.” He gave the words a mocking emphasis, making him sound like an old Pace Picante Sauce commercial.
“It’s not the same. I mean, it’s Saturday night in the City That Never Sleeps. We should at least stroll down Broadway, check out Times Square.” I flopped onto the bed next to him. “Please, Theo?”
He closed his eyes. “Not fair, using those blue eyes like that.”
I fluttered my lashes at him, making him grin. “In all seriousness I need to stretch my legs. On our way in, I saw a bar on the corner. Looks like a local pub. Let’s go in, have a beer or two, maybe play a game of darts. Aren’t you tired of my company yet? Wouldn’t it be nice to talk to someone who isn’t me?” I didn’t mention that I needed to put some space between us. Literally. I needed air that didn’t smell like granite and pine. I needed an atmosphere that wasn’t infused with lust. With every hour I spent in such close proximity with Buddy—especially after this morning—I got closer and closer to jumping the man.
And I didn’t know what he wanted. That was the crux of it. When we’d woken up again, he hadn’t acted any differently around me. I couldn’t handle the uncertainty. He’d sucked me off. I’d sucked him off. We’d been naked and vulnerable with each other. The heat had been scorching, but the emotional warmth had broken something inside me. Something I wasn’t sure I wanted fixed.
So I needed some time where Buddy wasn’t my one and only focus. I needed to find out if this attraction—one that had come on too fast and too strong—was the result of proximity and stress, or if there was more to it. I wanted to discover if the strength of my feelings diminished, even a little, while I was around other people.
Buddy rubbed his hands over his face and the scratch of his two-day beard tempted me to test the bristles too. I resolutely kept my hands to myself.
“Zero fucking objectivity,” he muttered.
“Yeah!” I bounced off the bed, heading for our bags by the closet. I knew what that meant.
“Only an hour,” he said.
“Perfect! I’m hitting the shower!” I tossed the first of my suitcases onto the other bed and threw the lid open. The contents of the bag reminded me of the slapdash packing of the night before. Nothing was folded. My toothbrush poked out of one of my dress shoes. “Ick.” I pulled it from the shoe gingerly, wondering if hot water was enough to sterilize it or if I needed to buy a new one.
I dumped the whole case on the bed and dug through the mess until I could grab what I hoped were clean clothes. It wasn’t what I considered a “going out” outfit, but the jeans and white T-shirt could be considered understatedly sexy. At least without the wrinkles. The steam from the shower would help.
“We’ll need to find a cleaner tomorrow. I can’t wear this to my interview on Monday.” I tossed a pale blue button-down to the side. No amount of shower steam would fix those creases. And the slacks were a lost cause as well.
Buddy grunted. I decided to take it as agreement.
I rolled my eyes and headed for the shower.
Ten minutes later, clean and dressed, I found Buddy sorting through our combined belongings. He’d separated his clothes from mine, folding and stacking the casual pieces, and laying out the more formal ones.
“I should have taken better care,” he muttered, noticing the direction of my gaze.
“It’s fine,” I said. “You were more concerned about getting us out in one piece.”
“But—”
“We were going to have to find a cleaner sooner or later. After the way our stuff was tossed around the room in Chicago, a laundromat was on the list of places to go. We’d have had to find one eventually. I don’t know about you, but I didn’t pack enough to have clean clothes for every day of the three weeks I’d scheduled to be gone.”
I grabbed one of my shirts and shook it out. A condom packet flew out of the sleeve, sailing across the bed before landing on the small pile of Buddy’s T-shirts. Buddy’s eyes zeroed onto the package, pupils dilating.
I licked my suddenly dry lips.
As if in slow motion, Buddy reached down, grabbed the small square, then set it very deliberately on the nightstand next to him.
The pale blue package stood out like a beacon on the generic faux wood surface.
Heat and musk blasted through the room. I wasn’t 100 percent sure if it came from me or Buddy, but the air pressure in the room definitely shifted. More than thirty seconds passed before Buddy cleared his throat. “Ah, I’d better jump in the shower too. If we’re going out.”
“Right,” I agreed.
He made no move to go.
I didn’t either.
Another half a minute. Then, “Right. Shower.” He grabbed a pair of khaki shorts and a T-shirt from the pile. I grabbed his arm as he walked past me.
“You may want to pick a different shirt.”
He looked down at the cotton in his hand. “Foxy and Fierce” was scrawled in purple font below a rainbow-hued outline of a fox with extravagant eyelashes.
His face burned fuchsia. “Er, yeah.” He set the shirt aside and reached across the bed for one of his Buddy’s Café shirts.
As soon as the door to the bathroom closed behind him, I fell backward onto the bed, trying not to imagine Buddy in the pink shirt that had been a gag gift from a friend. Ridiculous. Ridiculously sexy, actually. I groaned as the earthiness of Buddy’s scent and my sweet-clover-and-honey smell wafted out of our mingled clothing.
I tried not to notice how good they smelled combined like that.
I tried not to notice how right the combination was.
I tried not to hope for a future that had those scents constantly comingled.
I failed, miserably.
“I SWEAR I didn’t know!” Twenty minutes later Buddy glared from me to the door of the pub I’d noticed across th
e street from our hotel.
His raised eyebrows clearly said he didn’t believe me.
The bar, Molly’s, really did look like any other Irish pub I’d ever seen. Lots of forest green, natural woods, and brass accents. Had I noticed the little rainbow flag discreetly placed in the corner of the window? Maybe.
“It’s not a club. It really is an Irish pub. Just one that won’t kick us to the curb if we accidentally hold hands.”
He glared harder. “Since when do Irish pubs have a leather night?”
“Hey, I’m sure plenty of Irishmen partake of the leather lifestyle. Don’t judge.”
“I’m not judging.”
A man in leather pants, no shirt, and a leather harness squeezed past us to enter Molly’s. He barely glanced at me, but his eyes practically devoured Buddy.
“You’ll fit right in. You’ve got this whole leather bear vibe going.” Thinking on that, I may not have made a good choice. He would probably be like catnip to the other patrons’ tomcats. He’d be swarmed the second we walked through the door.
“Bear, really?”
I smirked. “It was too easy. It’s too bad you don’t have a harness.”
The bouncer, a barrel of a man who could give Buddy a run for his money on sheer mass, slid a look over us. “Did you guys plan on lurking at the door all night or are you actually going to come in?”
I grabbed Buddy’s sleeve and dragged him to the entrance. I paid the cover charge for both of us. The bouncer gave me another glance up and down. “ID?”
“I bet you don’t get carded,” I griped to Buddy as I handed my driver’s license over.
“You’re only twenty-one,” he said. “You should be carded.”
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever.”
The bouncer gave Buddy a commiserating look. “Keep an eye on your boy,” he said. “Some of the daddies inside like ’em young and bratty.”
“Yeah, Daddy, keep an eye on your boy.” I snickered, fluttering my lashes up at Buddy. There was enough light from the neon sign above our heads to illuminate Buddy’s blushing cheeks.
Fox Hunt Page 12
