by T. S. Joyce
“You still smell upset,” he said. “What’s wrong? I can stop talking about this stuff. I know it’s a lot to take in.”
Just say it. Just ask him what you want to ask him. “I was wondering…well, it’s kind of personal and embarrassing and you don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to, but…are there women in your pack? Can girls be werewolves, or just men?” Heat scorched up her neck, landed in her cheeks. He couldn’t seem to take his curious eyes from what was probably an epic blush—the curse of the pasty skin.
“There’re three females in our pack. Women can be werewolves but they’re rare. Three in the Dallas pack is a big deal. Rachel is the mate of the alpha, one is an eighteen-year-old girl named Marissa, and the other is named Alexis.”
Okay the first two sounded safe enough. One was already married and one was just a girl. “Is Alexis pretty? Does she like you? Did she make those marks on you?” Oh good grief, she could teach a class in awkward.
“Yes, yes, and no. I don’t let her touch me because I can’t stand her. All of my scars are from rough housing with the boys. Logan and Jason mostly.” He sighed a frustrated sound. “Alexis hits on me but I’m not interested. Been thinking about another girl for a while.” He flashed a little smile that curved up the corners of his lips, then shoved his hands in his pockets, which pushed his jeans lower and exposed a strip of hip muscles and lower abs right under the hem of that green thermal shirt. “I like that you ask questions and don’t play games. You don’t tiptoe around things. Now hand me your clothes and I’ll get them dried.”
Okay, test passed, he liked that she was direct, and also, his directness was hot as hell to a girl like her. She didn’t like games either. He took the dripping clothes from her and tossed them into the dryer with his own. She wrapped her arms around herself on account of she was feeling very nipply against the thin material of his giant t-shirt, and he offered a warm blanket and started two mugs of hot chocolate in the small microwave that took up most of his kitchen counter space.
Oceans of questions stretched between them, but she was at a complete loss as to where to start. Should she try and get to know the Grey before he’d become a werewolf, or the Grey after? And out of the trillion questions she had bouncing around her brain, which did she decide to pluck from the muck and go with?
“You hungry?” he asked, pulled out a chair at that gorgeous four-seater rectangular dining table.
“I can always eat.”
“Atta girl.” He told her to stay put and he went to work heating some leftovers from organized rows of Tupperware stacked in his fridge.
Whoever had been cooking for him knew their way around a kitchen. He’d reheated piles of lasagna, vegetables and garlic bread onto oversized plates. As they ate, his eyes changed color like a mood ring she’d worn in third grade. They stayed mainly gold but every once in a while, turned the deep ocean blue she remembered from the night she first met him. She became enamored with catching the moment his eyes shifted to that human color, which meant lots of her staring at him like a lunatic.
“Why do your eyes go to blue, and gold, and back so much?” she finally asked, pushing her empty plate to the side.
He threw a napkin he’d been using over his empty plate and leaned back in the chair. “For whatever reason, I don’t have control over my wolf like most werewolves do. Wolf is a separate personality in there, always pushing for attention, action, chaos, fighting…sex. The gold is him, the blue is me. We should be more as one. Normal werewolves only switch eye color when they’re Changing, or really upset.
“So, you’re a freak,” she said with a teasing smile.
“You have no idea.” He leaned forward, rested his elbows on the table and clenched his fists in front of him. His eyes turned serious, and he cocked his head as he searched her face. “You can’t repeat any of this, Morgan.”
Softly she said, “You don’t even have to give me that warning, Grey. I wouldn’t ever. You protected me that night, and I’ll protect you back.”
The seriousness in his eyes morphed to something different. Hope? I can tell you’re saying your truth,” he murmured. “I can hear honesty.”
“Well good, hear the honesty in this. I don’t think I like Alexis.”
He snorted and shook his head, laughed that deep chuckle that made her chest loosen up. “Same. Morgan?”
“Mmm hmm?” she asked, wiping the corners of her mouth with a napkin.
“I won’t ever hurt you. I was afraid I would, but now that I’ve met you, my wolf would never go after you. You’re safe with me. Other people who try to hurt you? I can’t guarantee their safety though,” he said with an apologetic smile.
“I believe you. I saw the man who attacked me in the street last week. You protected me a year ago, and again when he…he…” God, that could’ve been so bad if Grey wasn’t there. She was still having trouble sleeping and feeling safe after that day. “I don’t care what it says about me, but I don’t mind that. I like that you had my back.” Which was still pretty raw from being dragged across that concrete.
An alarm clock on the floor by his bed beeped that it was eleven o’clock. Was that the time already? “Lana’s with my mom and I need to go pick her up. I don’t want them worrying about me.”
“Lana lives with you?”
Morgan smiled just thinking about her. “Yeah, I’m her guardian now. Her dad signed his rights over right after she was born and Marianna put it in her will that I would take care of her baby if anything ever happened. So, last year I went from being a close aunt to being a step-in replacement mom. I don’t mind, actually. I love her, and Marianna should be the one here taking care of her, so—” She shrugged away the heartache. “I owe them both.”
His gaze was steady and sincere. “Lana is lucky to have you. Morgan, I know we have things to talk about, and we both have questions… I think we should go to dinner. Would you like to go to dinner with me? We could talk more, and it would give me an excuse to see you before next Tuesday.”
“Before my class next Tuesday? I knew you were watching me! I felt it but could never find you. How long?”
His smile was unapologetic. “I just found you a few weeks ago. Are you free tomorrow night?”
“Yes, sort of. How about I cook for you? My place around seven? That way I don’t have to find a babysitter for Lana and she can meet the man who saved our lives. Get ready. She loves dogs.”
A chuckle came from him, a rich warm sound. That he could laugh at himself seemed to surprise him as much as her. He jotted down her number and address on the back of a scrap of paper then pulled her clothes from the dryer. As he handed her the warm pile, his finger brushed her outstretched palm, and he inhaled sharply. She smiled shyly and pulled the clothes away. Her palm tingled where he’d touched it. Oh, this boy was important, she could just feel it. “I really should get going. I’m already running so late.”
“I’ll pull my truck around front and give you a ride to yours.”
Dressed and warm again, she ran for the large charcoal gray truck parked out front. Rain battered the windshield and created tiny water explosions against the glass. Water ran in a miniature river down the uneven sidewalk, and she laughed as she splashed through it in newly dry clothes. His smile as he shoved her passenger side door open from inside was mesmerizing.
Leaning over, he pushed the passenger door open when she was close. Tiny drops of water clung to the ends of dark tendrils of hair in front of her face, and for a moment, she thought he would tuck them behind her ear. Instead he dropped his eyes. Disappointment caused her to reach for the safety of his hand. Like a coward, she didn’t look at his face to see if her touch made him uncomfortable. He didn’t flinch away and that was good enough for her.
Scared of how badly she wanted to kiss his lips, she squeezed his hand, slid from the truck, waved and gave him a smile instead.
“Hey Morgan,” he called, rolling down the window.
“Yeah?”
“
I think you’re attractive, too.”
“Eeeeee, oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,” she chanted as she climbed into her truck and shut the door. She couldn’t help her giant grin. Sliding into the cab of her truck. As she pulled away, he stayed there, watching her through the window with an unfathomable expression. She definitely floppy-hand waved to him like a total dork.
Ooooh boy, was she in trouble.
Chapter Nine
Grey was a mess. After a morning run didn’t settle his nerves, he drove to Dean’s house. Last night, he’d lain awake, thinking of ways to make himself less dangerous for the first date with Morgan. Maybe a Change would settle Wolf. The kiss-and-urge-for-violence move with Alexis was something he couldn’t quite shake. Wolf couldn’t be allowed to do the same to Morgan.
It was just another reminder he wasn’t in control, and around Morgan and Lana, he had to be.
The thought of meeting Lana excited and terrified him in turn. Kids had always reserved a special soft spot in his heart, and he was good with them when he was human, but how would Wolf feel about her? Maybe if he catered to Wolf the first part of the day, the beast inside of him might let him have a good night. So, a run and a hunt it was—two out of three of a werewolf’s favorite things. Sex was the third but he needed to take that part nice and slow.
Bullshit. Morgan will like fucking, Wolf murmured.
Real romantic.
As he pulled up to Dean’s house, two wolves snarled and fought in the side yard. Dean watched from the porch, arms crossed over his chest, disapproval on his face like it had been etched in stone. One was a dark gray wolf, and one was gold. Why were Logan and Jason fighting? They weren’t play-fighting as the wolves often did, but it wasn’t all out war yet, either. Definitely headed toward serious, though.
Grey got out of his truck and jumped the porch steps two at a time. “What’s the problem?” he asked the stone-still alpha.
“It’s about Marissa,” Dean said in a thick voice. “Thankfully she and Rachel are in town so they don’t have to see this shit. It’s getting worse, Grey. Wolves are never turned that young, and Marissa still has a long time before she needs to start worrying about choosing a mate. The boys don’t see it that way, though. They don’t want her now. She’s still so young, but they think she should go ahead and choose one of them.”
“What about sending her to another pack?”
“It would be more of the same, worse probably, because she wouldn’t have Alexis to act as a buffer. She would likely be one of two females, if not the only one, in another pack. And Rachel sees her as a daughter. Hell, I do too. She doesn’t have biological parents. Both are dead and we looked for close family but she hasn’t got any. She was always our only shot at raising a kid. Hell, she’s been with us since she was twelve. I couldn’t send her away, knowing we couldn’t see her anymore. I keep laying down orders for them, but trouble’s coming.”
Grey leaned against the porch railing and watched the escalating fight. “Want me to kill them?”
Dean snorted. “Something is wrong with you.”
“There’s lots of shit wrong with me. You mind if I use your woods for a while?”
Dean dragged his attention away from the scuffle. “You just Changed the other day. Are you good?”
“Yep.”
“Liar. Your tone gives you away,” Dean muttered.
Grey let off a little growl. “I’ve got a date tonight. She’s…special. I met her before all of the werewolf stuff,” he said, twitching his fingers at Logan and Jason, now bleeding each other on the front lawn savagely. His life was so weird.
Dean asked, “Is she is the one you were asking me and Rachel about?”
“Yeah.”
Dean nodded and let his lightened eyes drift back to the fight. “Bring her flowers then, and don’t screw it up. And bring her by to meet everyone.”
“Hell no. I don’t want her involved with this part of my life. I barely know her and I want to ease her into all this.” He frowned and crossed his arms over his chest, mirroring Dean’s stoic stance. “Please don’t say anything to anyone. The last thing I need is for Alexis to get wind of this and cause trouble.”
“You got it.” Dean grinned. “But you know sooner or later she’s going to have to know about this part of you if she is special like you say.”
“Later is fine with me,” Grey said as he pulled his shirt over his head. “Like in ten to twelve years. She already knows enough.”
Grey made his way back to his truck, shucked the rest of his clothes and tossed them in the back of his rig, then headed for his favorite Changing place. Logan and Jason had finished fighting, and he skirted Jason, who lay in the sun, tongue lolled out to the side and panting. Logan was nowhere to be seen. He could guess who’d won that round. Dumbass was bleeding out of his neck, but didn’t seem to care.
Grey laid behind a trio of mulberry bushes, and waited as the familiar tingling rippled over his flesh. Why was it taking so long? When he wanted, he could change in a moment. Most of the wolves in Dean’s pack gave him grief for his quick transformations. Theirs took minutes, sometimes longer. He was lucky, they said, but it didn’t help him now, as he was lying in the shadow of the brush with his skin slowly changing and pulsing into something other. Agony, a deep and lonely pain, filled the deepest and darkest crevices in his head. Morgan’s hand in his—just the thought of her skin against his slowed the transition to an agonizing crawl. Pitch black fur appeared in waves over his flesh, disappeared, and returned.
What was he doing, exposing Morgan and Lana to this life? Marissa had a hard enough time with it. How could he bring that little baby into pack life? She and Morgan were fragile and human, unable to defend themselves from the monsters that existed here. They were the same monsters that’d killed Marianna, and he shouldn’t expose them to that. What kind of selfish creature would ask them to be okay with any of this? A groan escaped him in the seconds before he slipped into his new form.
Things were easier as a wolf. Human needs got pushed to the backburner. As Wolf, running and finding food became more important than the constant mental jargon that consumed his mind as a human. No thinking, just hunt and run. Just kill. Now that, he could do. Life in the woods was easy, and instinctual, and he spent hours out there that passed like minutes. And when the sun was high in the sky, he made his way back to the mulberry bushes.
Changed back into his human skin and feeling steadier, he waved goodbye to Dean and drove back into town. First thing was first. He walked to a flower shop a few blocks away from the apartment. He hadn’t ever been on a bring-flowers-to-the-front-door kind of date, and ended up spending way too long in the flower shop trying to find something Morgan would like. Then at the last minute, he veered into a local grocer, picked up a six pack of beer for him, and wine for Morgan because girls on social media seemed to make a lot of wine-love memes. And then he grabbed a bottle of sparkling grape juice for Lana before he paid out with a nice young cashier—whom he growled at for no reason. Wolf was a professional in assholery.
Back in his apartment, he showered, skipped the shave because Morgan had seemed to like touching his beard, and then he messed with his hair until, after a few minutes, he gave up and ran his hands back and forth through it. Messy look as usual, then. He pulled on jeans and a red thermal, long-sleeved shirt. With flowers and drinks in hand, he headed to the address she’d given him.
The drive from the apartment was only fifteen minutes, and as he pulled up and looked around the neighborhood Wolf snarled in disgust. A single woman and child weren’t safe enough here. Barely-checked instincts screamed for him to get Morgan and the kid out of there. The house across the street had bars across the windows and two huge lunging, barking pit bulls guarding the front, barely kept in the yard by a deteriorating, lop-sided gate. He slid out of the truck, and the dogs went even crazier. One bright-eyed look and a menacing growl from him quieted them down fast enough. The yards were overgrown, except for Morgan’s, an
d every house was in desperate need of repair and new paint. He opened a wire-fence gate across the pathway, went through, and it screeched closed behind him. Maybe he was at the wrong house. Please let him be at the wrong house.
He knocked and Morgan came to the door, a dishtowel in her hand. He was stunned by how pretty she looked, sunlight splashing across her cheeks, her eyes even greener in the saturated light. She’d worn make-up, and there was dark shimmer on her eyelids that made it hard to look away from the striking color of her searching eyes. She seemed just as struck by him, and for moments, they both just stood there, taking each other in.
Lana ran up behind Morgan and grabbed her legs, peeked around her. That little girl was probably the only thing on earth that could drag his attention away from Morgan’s beautiful face right now.
Morgan cleared her throat. Her cheeks turned a pretty petal pink and she dipped her gaze as she said softly, “Hi, Grey. Come on in.”
He held out the newspaper wrapped pink tulips. They matched her cheeks.
Morgan reached for them with this smile that made his heart thump erratically in his chest. She smelled them and said, “I tried to grow tulips last year in the front flower bed because they are my favorite. I think Lana and I over watered the bulbs though because they never came up.”
A vision of she and Lana watering the plants with the little pink watering pail by the door and patiently waiting for them to bloom warmed him.
His tender moment was interrupted with, We should bring her a hundred tulips next time. She smiles and smells like she wants sex, Wolf pointed out.
If Grey could scoop that fucker right out of his head, he would.
He scooted past Morgan into the small entryway, and gave a little wave to a very shy Lana. She’d grown so much from the tiny toddler he’d seen last year. She had to be four or five now.
“Lana, this is Grey,” Morgan said. “You might not remember him, but he is our friend.”
Grey leaned down and offered his hand. Lana stared at him curiously. “Your eyes look funny.” She placed her petite palm in his.
