“It won’t work.”
“Cassie said there’s a spark between you and Grace.”
Rafe gave him an eat-shit look.
“My mistake.” Brice’s lopsided grin said he didn’t think he was wrong at all. He grabbed an armful of trash.
Rafe snatched up the remaining garbage and followed him to the side entrance of Gavin and Abby Walker’s home, their family quarters adjacent to the resort.
Brice stayed outside to light the grill. Rafe ducked inside to retrieve his toolbox.
“Rafe? What are you doing here?” Cassie met him in the corridor connecting the Alpha family’s residence to the resort.
“Helping Brice with a project.” Rafe’s gaze skimmed the top of Cassie’s head to his real target. Grace.
“Does he still have all his fingers and toes?” Cassie’s eyes widened against her pale skin.
“He did, but he’s outside lighting the grill.” Rafe’s gaze jumped back to Grace.
Her hair looked professionally sleek. He liked it better in a mussed ponytail. She wore denim shorts with a tiny bit of lace at the hem and a pale pink top with little bows on the capped sleeves. Her nails, painted a dark pink with a black swirly pattern at the tips, matched the toes peeking through the openings of her low-heeled sandals.
“Hey, Sunshine.” Brice strode toward them.
Cassie beamed as he wrapped her in his arms for a big, juicy kiss.
Brice urgently hiked his thumb behind Cassie’s back and gave Rafe the bug eye.
“Come with me.” Rafe clasped Grace’s hand and led her inside the small nursery the Walkers wanted set up for their daughter.
Grace’s lightly glossed lips parted in a soft sigh. She trailed her hand over the newly assembled furniture. “This was your project?”
Rafe nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat at the longing he saw in Grace’s eyes.
Grace gripped the crib’s cherrywood rails, and for a second, Rafe thought tears shimmered in her eyes. “She’ll love it.”
“Do you know what to do with this?” He handed her the packaged bedding set.
Grace’s rich, full-bodied laugh did something funny to Rafe’s stomach. “Two grown men couldn’t figure out how to put sheets on a baby mattress?”
“I sleep on a couch.”
Grace’s cheeks pinked and her tongue peeked between her soft lips. “How could I forget?”
Her heated gaze licked his body, inch by tortuous inch, just as it had when he stood in front of her, naked. His body reacted the same as it had yesterday. His muscles clenched, his breath quickened, and his blood felt too hot for his veins. Trapped behind the zipper, his cock strained against its confines.
He spun her toward the crib. “Hurry.”
Grace quickly tucked the corners, smoothed the fabric and tied perfect little bows.
Grace’s eyes watered and Cassie burst into tears when she entered the room. Rafe thought it peculiar human females cried when happy, particularly when Cassie did it. She had never been overly emotional. Pregnancy had changed her.
“It’s beautiful.” She moved from Brice’s arms to squeeze Rafe’s hands. “Thank you.”
Sorrow simmered behind the joy in her eyes. “You will come more often to see us? To see the baby?”
Rafe tipped his head. The loss of his child didn’t mean he couldn’t be happy for theirs.
“Well, then.” Brice clapped his hands together. “You can start by joining us for supper.”
“Oh goody,” Grace whispered in Rafe’s ear. “I won’t be a third wheel tonight, after all.”
She playfully bumped against him and the jolt of her touch unleashed a flood of wolfan hormones into his bloodstream. The sudden rush deafened his ears and he had the sense of tumbling down a waterfall. His lungs tightened, his heart pounded, his skin dampened.
He locked gazes with Brice. Instead of offering a lifeline, the damn wolf smiled.
* * *
Riotous laughter and curses rose above the roar of racing street cars. Hand drying a plate, Grace peeked out of the kitchen at the two formidable men perched on the edge of the couch, hunkered over the game controllers gripped in their tight-fisted hands.
The big-screen TV anchored to the wall in the Walkers’ den flashed images of a high-speed street race. One car tapped the other, knocking it into a tailspin.
“What the fuck?” Brice’s arm swung out, punching Rafe’s shoulder with enough force to knock an ordinary man clean off the couch. Rafe’s body absorbed the shock with barely a ripple. However, his virtual car careened off course, crashed into a building and exploded.
“Keep your paws in the game, Walker, and off me,” Rafe snapped, although Grace saw no true menace in the narrowed gaze he speared at his friend.
“All’s fair in love and war and my toys,” Brice chuckled.
Grace returned to the sink. “Do men ever grow up?”
“Depends on the man. A good one knows how and when to step up, and will.” Cassie absently rubbed her belly. “It’s good to see Rafe having fun.”
“At least, he is now.” Grace placed the freshly dried plate in the cabinet and laid the damp towel across the empty dish drainer. “He was so tense during supper.”
Sitting beside him at the table, Grace had felt his tension in palpable waves. His muscles had been primed and pumped, as if he’d been waiting for the chance to dart out the door.
“He’s never accepted a dinner invitation from us until tonight. Maybe he wasn’t sure what to expect.” Cassie waddled to the kitchen archway. Her head tilted as she watched the men play their game.
When she turned to Grace, a smile twitched her lips. “Maybe Rafe is here because he wants to get to know you.”
“That’s ridiculous.” Grace grabbed her glass of iced tea from the counter and chugged a big gulp.
“You batted your eyes to get him to stay for supper.” Cassie made a sympathy face, dramatically exaggerating the opening and closing of her eyes.
Grace tossed the dish towel at her. “I did not.”
They both laughed.
Cassie carried the nearly forgotten condiments to the refrigerator. “I think he liked your travel stories.”
Grace had more than a few about the Swiss Alps, Mt. Fuji, Pompeii, Madrid, the rain forest, the Luxor—the real one, not the one in Vegas. Other places such as Beaufort, San Diego, Arlington, Jacksonville, Okinawa, Guam and Germany had been “home” during her father’s military career.
Brice and Cassie had peppered her with curious questions during dinner. Rafe had remained silent.
“He seemed bored to me.”
Cassie wiggled in her seat to get comfortable. “If Rafe was bored, he would’ve left once he finished eating.”
“He kept his head down and his eyes on his plate.” Grace eased into the chair across the table from Cassie. “Not a great endorsement for interest.”
“Eating is serious business for men like Rafe, but it doesn’t mean he wasn’t paying attention,” Cassie said. “Remember when your napkin fell off the table? Rafe caught it midair, folded it, and placed it next to your plate.”
“He has quick reflexes.”
“The point is that he noticed.” Cassie’s face lit up with a wide grin. “He’s probably observed more about you than you realize.”
Come to think of it, Rafe had handed Grace the mustard before Grace asked for it. It didn’t seem out of the ordinary at the time because they were eating burgers. But, he’d only passed her the mustard. Not the ketchup. Not the mayo. Neither of which she liked.
“And if he’s tuned into you it’s possible you’ve piqued his interest.” Cassie held up her hands to show Grace her crossed fingers.
“I hope it’s just a casual interest. You know I’m not looking for anything more.”
“Not all men are jerks. Some can be trusted n
ot to break your heart, Grace.”
In her experience, they always did.
Her dad had been the first. Strict, unemotional and mostly absent, he’d broken promise after promise. Birthdays, holidays, award presentations, he’d sworn to attend them all. She only needed one hand to count the number of times he had attended anything.
Derek, her college sweetheart turned ex-husband, swore he loved her, but after the miscarriage he couldn’t get out of their marriage fast enough.
Even Matt had crushed her heart, joining the military after he promised he wouldn’t. Now he was paralyzed.
“Hey, Goldilocks.” Rafe strolled into the kitchen. “If you’re ready to go, I’ll walk you to your room.”
Grace regarded his outstretched palm.
Though his voice had sounded indifferent, his eyes dared her to take his steady, open hand.
So she did.
As he pulled her to her feet, electricity sparked in his fingertips and zipped through her neural pathways. The jolt flushed her skin, a flutter disrupted the rhythm of her heart. Her eyes, mouth and throat immediately turned dry as all the moisture in her body pooled between her legs.
Something dark and primal flickered in Rafe’s eyes.
She jerked back her hand.
They said their goodbyes to Cassie and Brice, then walked down the corridor to the hidden entrance to the resort lobby.
“How did you know I was ready to leave, or was it a lucky guess?”
“When I came into the kitchen for another bottle of water, I saw you rub the tattoo on your wrist.” Rafe reached around her to open the heavy mahogany doors.
“Lucky guess it is.”
“You touch it when you’re anxious.”
“I do not.”
“You rubbed it while we waited for the emergency responders after the accident, again at the hospital, before you fell asleep, at the diner when we ate breakfast.”
“Oh,” Grace said softly.
So Cassie hadn’t been off the mark about Rafe’s observation skills.
Strange that he would watch Grace so carefully after he confessed no interest in becoming friends. She bit back a smile. Maybe he was warming to the idea.
Music filtered over the chatter of people spilling from the lounge into the lobby. Rafe cupped the back of her arm, navigating them through the masses.
He stabbed his finger at the elevator call button and mumbled something about the damned crowd.
“There’s a singles convention going on.”
“Is that why you came down this weekend?” Raw surprise registered before he blanked his expression.
“Um, no. I don’t hook up with strangers.”
“You prefer friends.”
“That would be the benefit I mentioned.” She poked the button as if that would help the elevator to appear faster. “You’re not eligible, you know. Since we aren’t friends.”
Rafe’s face tilted up.
“Did you hear that?” Grace looked around for the source of a growl. Not a service or therapy dog in sight.
Maybe she’d imagined the sound.
The elevator dinged.
Ushering her inside, Rafe’s hand slipped down her back and skimmed her bottom.
Her body, having just cooled from his last touch, ignited again. She couldn’t remember a man revving her up as fast as Rafe could, and he wasn’t trying.
“Thanks for the escort. I know the way from here.”
Rafe studied her for a moment, then stepped forward. The doors closed before she could push him out.
Mercifully, the stone-silent ride to the fifth floor was quick. She shoved the card-key into the electronic lock. The device blinked red to taunt her. She tried again.
Still red.
No matter how she jammed the card into the reader, the light blazed red.
Rafe’s fingers closed around her wrist. The gentleness of his touch scrambled her brain and jellied her knees. He drew back her hand and eased the key from her death grip. Turning it over, he drew the key through the slot.
The result?
A perky, green glow.
Grace wanted to slap him.
Rafe pushed opened the door.
Her breath caught in her throat. The maids had turned off all the lights after they’d cleaned the suite.
“Wait here.” Rafe entered the room.
Grace lingered in the doorway, watching his muscles bunch and flex as he moved silently through the cozy living area to turn on the lights. He stepped into the bedroom. Thankfully, housekeeping had straightened the rumpled queen-sized bed and picked up the towels she had dropped on the floor.
He turned on the television and turned down the sound. “Better?”
Nodding, she nearly choked on emotion.
Rafe, a man who barely knew her, showed more concern for her deep-seated fear of the dark than her own family.
He crossed the room as she stepped inside. Lifting his hand to her face, he grazed his thumb against her temple. He frowned, gingerly fingering the residual bump at her hairline. Then, he drew his hand down the side of her face and brushed her hair behind her ear.
She stood still, not daring to breathe.
His soft-whiskered jaw skimmed her cheek and he nosed the shell of her ear before nuzzling the sweet spot behind it.
Her heart seemed to flutter into her throat. Her breaths quickened and her body hummed.
“Sleep tight, Goldilocks,” he murmured.
Grace didn’t remember closing her eyes. By the time she opened them, Rafe had vanished.
Chapter 9
Rafe cut off the lights on the truck and stared at the simple little A-frame house, the personal touches he remembered screamingly absent.
A fragile, feminine she-wolf, his mate, Lexi, had loved soft, frilly, pretty things. She had transformed a plain, wooden box house into something akin to a fairy-tale cottage filled with flowers and pillows, candles and gnomes.
She’d loved garden gnomes.
Now the wildflower patch in front of the house had withered away and the gnomes had been relocated to Maico’s Botanical Conservatory where she had worked. He always thought the gnomes would be happy there because she certainly had been.
Although he’d given the box Ronni packed to the director, Rafe had not actually visited the public gardens since the shooting. He couldn’t.
Same with this place.
The counselors at rehab had said his ability to face his former home would be a ruthless challenge to his sobriety, but one he needed to overcome.
Instead, he’d given the house and small parcel of land to Ronni and Alex upon their arrival. He’d never visited them here, preferring to meet them at the diner or talk briefly on the phone.
He wasn’t giving them the brush-off. He simply wasn’t much of a talker. Most people found his silence awkward and thought he wasn’t paying attention. If he didn’t have anything pertinent to add to the conversation, he didn’t join in. Didn’t mean he wasn’t listening.
The porch light came on and the front door opened.
He climbed out of the truck.
“Rafe? Are you here for more boxes?” Ronni stood in the entryway. Since moving in, she had slowly packed away the remnants of his former life. Box by box he distributed everything to where he thought Lexi would want her things to go.
Clothes went to the charity thrift store. So did the dishes and housewares. Ronni had brought her own.
More personal items he planned give to his former mother-in-law.
“I’ll take what you have.” He stepped on the first porch step.
“Are you all right? You look a little peaked.”
“Rough day.” Being surrounded by baby stuff, and Grace.
I should’ve kissed her.
No, his lips neede
d to stay far away from hers.
He had a bad feeling about the situation. One of those gut-twisting “no matter what you do it’s gonna get fucked up” type of feelings.
“Do you want to come inside?” Ronni squinted at him with a worried-mom look.
“Maybe next time.” He’d had too much upheaval today. “I want to talk with Alex.”
“I grounded him for being out after curfew on Friday night. He won’t do it again, I promise.” Ronni rolled her lips together.
“He’s a good kid and hasn’t done anything the other wolflings haven’t tried.”
Ronni breathed a sigh of relief.
“We need to make some changes so he doesn’t get into any more trouble. Would you call him out?”
“Alex, come here,” she yelled over her shoulder. “Bring the boxes on the kitchen table with you.”
Loud thuds fell on the stairs inside. Seconds later, Alex appeared and helped Rafe load the boxes in the tow truck.
“Later.”
Ronni hooked Alex before he disappeared into the house. “Rafe wants to talk to us.” Tension hardened Ronni’s body.
“I heard you skipped school a few times.”
Ronni gripped Alex’s shoulders and shook him. “What have I told you about missing school?”
“I hate school!” Alex’s mouth twisted. “It won’t do me any good.”
“It won’t if you keep missing classes,” Rafe said. “Starting tomorrow, I’ll take you to school and bring you home after I close up.”
“I don’t need a friggin’ babysitter.”
“If you aren’t responsible enough to do what you ought, then, mister, you certainly do need one.” Ronni crossed her arms. “And watch your language.”
“This ain’t fair!” Alex stormed inside.
“Be ready at seven,” Rafe called after him. “Or I will hog-tie you and drop you off dressed the way I found you.”
Ronni snickered. “He’s at the age where he thinks he’s too old for pajamas.”
“That’s why I said it.” Rafe noticed the tired droop around Ronni’s eyes and the slight hunch in her back. “How are the GED classes coming?”
“I’m holding my own.” Ronni straightened. “Alex comes by his dislike for school honestly. His dad and I weren’t the best students.”
Rescued by the Wolf Page 6
