by Abby Niles
Ah, hell. Not working.
He couldn’t take a freeze-out tactic with Val. She would see right through him. There were enough stories circulating about him that she’d know he was lying when he dropped his final bomb.
Forcing a wolfish smile, he scooped out a portion of the mixture and put it on a plate, drizzled honey over it, and handed it to Val. “Mm-hmm. We sure did. Too bad we don’t have time for a repeat performance.”
When her shoulders relaxed, he felt like a complete ass.
“Maybe when we get back to the cabin?” she suggested with a wink.
It was the opening he needed, but for the life of him he couldn’t force the words out of his mouth. He cleared his throat.
For her.
“Can’t tonight,” he finally got out, but had to look away to deliver the rest. He stared off at the woods. A warning rumble vibrated in his chest, his beast’s displeasure making itself known. He had to get this over quickly before the animal really tried to interfere. “With this hiatus from the case, I get to use my backup plan.” When she remained silent, he added, “I have a hot date, remember? We’ll pick things up where we left off tomorrow.”
He made himself glance at her, and goddamn it, he wished he hadn’t. He could go an entire lifetime without seeing the hurt tighten those sweet lips. His beast growled, quivering in rage.
Her arm holding the plate of food lowered a little. “W-what?”
“I have plans with Olivia tonight, remember?” He screwed his face into a holy-shit look. “Wait a minute. You didn’t think…” He swept his hand toward the tent. Mostly because he couldn’t say anymore. His throat had closed up completely.
After a frozen second, she spun with a shaky laugh. “No! No…not at all. Uh…I just thought that would get canceled…you know…because of the investigation.”
He put a hand over his heart, going for relieved, when in reality it felt like his chest was going to explode knowing he had to deliver the final blow.
The one that would seal it.
“You scared me there for a minute. I know things were strained with us before, but you of all people should know the score with me. I’m glad you didn’t read more into this than it is.”
She made a spttttt sound. “With you? Never.” She looked away and he watched her throat convulse on a swallow. “I-I need to get a few things together.”
She vaulted to her feet, leaving behind her untouched food. Her departure made his beast charge forward, urging Britton to follow. Closing his eyes, he battled to stay seated.
I could possibly hate her in a couple of days. Is that what you want? Where would it get us then?
The beast howled its disagreement, but surprisingly went silent. As if even it was resigned to the fact that he and Val had no future.
…
Val walked ahead of Britton, hastening her footsteps anytime she heard him quicken his pace. She had to stay well in front of him; she was too damn close to crying like a lovesick fool, and she refused to let him see it.
I have a hot date.
Having red-hot coals placed on her skin would have been less painful than those words.
Why did his indifference hurt so badly? She’d known what she was getting into when she decided to do this. Britton had never claimed to be a saint; he wore the man-whore badge with pride. He loved his women, and they loved him. Many, and often.
But damn…it hurt.
Val blamed the awesome sex. She refused to call it lovemaking, though at times it had felt like that, had brought forth overwhelming emotions deep inside her, especially when he’d gazed down at her with those vivid, violet eyes. There was only one word to describe how that tender, possessive look had made her feel: cherished.
And she’d felt that tightening in her chest again, along with a need to touch him. Not grope, scratch, or squeeze him, but run her palm down his face, cup his cheek, and kiss him gently. Tender feelings. Feeling feelings.
Add in his attentiveness to her needs and the way he held her tight, and somewhere during the night holding hands and cuddling had joined the ranks with wanting to touch and hold him.
And all the while she’d lain cocooned by his body, finally admitting to herself that Britton had somehow worked his way past her defenses and into her heart, he’d been anticipating his date with Olivia.
Pathetic.
Even more pathetic was how badly it had hurt, realizing how easily he could leave her bed and immediately hop into another.
It shouldn’t be easy for him—not with Val. She prided herself for being different. Being with her should have wiped every other female from the man’s mind. But it hadn’t, and she was a fool for believing that the tenderness she’d seen last night was anything other than a man eager to get laid.
What was the matter with her? She was never like this. She knew how to separate sex and emotions. She’d done it often enough. How could Britton, of all people, be the one she couldn’t do that with?
She didn’t know.
At least he’d been honest, though, which had saved her from making any more of an idiot of herself. She’d walked out of that tent this morning with a sense of giddy excitement, wanting to see him, touch him. Talk to him.
Now it was all about saving face. She refused to be the only woman he was awkward around because he picked up on her hurt feelings. His other women somehow found a way to keep emotions and Britton separate. She’d find a way, too.
Dea, she hated that phrase—his other women. As if she had reduced herself to belonging in that pitiable group.
Hell, no.
Up ahead, the honeymoon cabin came into view. Relief surged through her. Why? She didn’t know. He’d want the bathroom to get ready for his hot date, and she’d be trapped, waiting in the living room while he primped for another woman.
She climbed the stairs and walked inside, then noticed that Britton hadn’t followed. She turned around to find him a few feet away from the cabin on the phone.
Her stomach twisted violently. Dea, was he already on the phone with her? He glanced up at her and something she couldn’t decipher crossed his expression. It almost looked like pain…but that was ridiculous.
“I understand, Councilman. You have our word.”
The knots in her gut loosened as he hung up. “What did he say?”
“Not much, really. Just reiterated that we are not to track anymore.”
“What about the samples from MASK?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “He’s not sending them. They have a lead. All they want us to do is wait.”
“So we sit?” She’d much rather crawl through a patch of poison ivy than sit around this cabin, waiting for Britton to return, or even worse, being trapped here with him after he did.
“Clear orders straight from the elder.”
She blew out a frustrated breath. The elder didn’t issue stand-down orders often. If he had, he must have a reason, and as SPAC agents it was their job to wait for instructions from their superior.
Silence fell between them, then he cleared his throat. “I need the keys to your car so I can head home. I’ll be back first thing in the morning.”
She worked hard to keep her jaw from dropping. He was so excited about his date he wasn’t even going to get ready here. Talk about a slap in the face.
“Won’t Olivia get suspicious if my car is parked in your driveway?” she managed.
“Already thought about that. I’m going to park it at Liam’s old cabin. I shifted yesterday. It’d be nice to take a run through the woods.”
And already be naked when Olivia arrived.
Val tossed him the keys, barely refraining from throwing them in his face. “Have fun.”
She turned and stalked inside. Before she completely lost it.
…
Britton parked Val’s car in front of his cabin and turned off the ignition, but remained behind the wheel, staring at the trees in front of him. Driving away from Val like that had been the hardest thing he’
d ever done. He wasn’t sure how he would even get through the next twenty-four hours, but thankfully the deadline was tomorrow afternoon. One way or another, the case would be over.
Val would go back to work. He’d go back to being a human. And it would be as if nothing had changed.
But everything had changed.
Hiking behind her the last few hours had been excruciating. He’d wanted to take away the stiff set of her shoulders, the jerky motion of her gait. The pain of betrayal in her heart.
He’d hurt her. Badly.
It was one reason he’d decided to leave as soon as they’d returned. Since she was “out of town tending to her sick mom,” she had to stay at the cabin. He didn’t. And after the hell of the morning and afternoon, she deserved some peace—from him.
He glanced at his watch. It was closing in on six. On his way home, he’d called Olivia and canceled their plans, begging off because of his supposed back pain. She’d offered to come over and wait on him hand and foot, but he’d politely declined. There had been shock in her voice when she’d said, “Britton Townsend is actually saying no?”
Man, if that hadn’t painted a flattering picture of his reputation. For the first time he’d been truly bothered by it. Bothered that Val had accepted what he’d said so easily because of his past actions. Things at the PD were about to change. He was about to change. He might not have a future with Val, but he couldn’t go back to the way he’d been. Not now. Not in front of her.
He’d finally been able to convince Olivia he was still hurting too much to be any kind of company, and she’d relented, ending the call with a peeved, “Hope you feel better soon.”
He didn’t see that happening. The pain wasn’t something physical that would heal. No, it was a deep ache that constricted his chest, suffocating him.
Every part of his being wanted to return to Val and make up for the hurt he’d caused her.
But he couldn’t.
He flung open the car door. What he really needed was a run. A long, exhausting one.
Then a shower. Change of clothes.
Regroup.
Because he would need all his strength to face Val tomorrow morning or he’d never be able to keep up this charade of indifference.
…
Maybe she shouldn’t have called Miles. But half of the doctor’s business card had fallen out of a pair of Britton’s pants while she’d been straightening up. The other half was still in the pocket. The card had been torn straight down the middle.
The silence in the cabin had consumed her, beating her with images of Britton entwined with Olivia, and Val hadn’t been able to handle it anymore. Then she’d found the torn card and taken it as a sign. Before she could change her mind, she’d picked up the phone and asked Miles if he wanted to come by for dinner.
Biting her bottom lip, she walked around the couch and handed Miles a glass of wine.
Unfortunately, the handsome doctor’s presence hadn’t banished Britton from her thoughts as she’d hoped. Maybe she just needed to try a little harder.
She sat on the couch close beside him, and he stretched his arm behind her and toyed with a lock of her hair. “I’m really glad you called.”
Smiling, she feared it came out as more strained than actual delight. “Me, too.”
She glanced at the clock. Almost eleven. Miles had been here for about three hours. When she’d called him and invited him over, he’d casually asked if Britton was there.
No, Britton was off fucking another woman.
She hadn’t said that, of course, but it’d been on the tip of her tongue. Instead she’d admitted Britton was on a date. The doctor’s businesslike tone had changed then, becoming flirty. When he’d shown up, he’d picked up steaks from a local steakhouse, along with two bottles of wine. Clearly a mind reader.
She’d immediately started drinking. Little good it had done. Britton was still everywhere she looked.
While she and Miles ate, the conversation had been nice. He was easy to talk to. And she’d searched for any spark of chemistry between them, desperate to find any semblance of one. She never did. And she still hadn’t after a round of pool. All she’d found was the memory of Britton bent over the table, cue stick between his fingers…and what those amazing fingers had done to her last night.
The man was enjoying Olivia’s company right now. Had most likely taken her the same way he had taken Val last night. Maybe more than once.
But she still wished Britton was here instead of Miles.
And that pissed her off.
She tiptoed her fingers across Miles’s forearm. “What do you say we move to the hot tub?”
Interest lit up his hazel eyes. “I don’t have a suit.”
“Who says you need one?”
A smile came to his lips. “I like the way you think, Detective.”
This was wrong. Felt all wrong.
Which only pissed her off even more. It wasn’t wrong. Britton had made it clear that last night meant nothing to him. He was still going to screw other women. She shouldn’t feel like she was somehow cheating on him. They didn’t have that kind of relationship. Not even close.
“I’ll go grab some towels.”
After she pushed off the couch and went to the bathroom, she peered at her reflection in the mirror over the sink. “You want to save face, Val Calhoun. This is your chance. Forget about Britton Townsend. That is one fine man out there waiting for you. Go get him.”
Nodding at her reflection, she stripped down to her bra and panties, then returned to the room to find Miles standing in his boxer briefs. He really was an incredibly attractive man. Strong, muscular. And he’d not once mentioned another woman or bragged about playing at work.
But not even a tingle of arousal hit her.
When his heated gaze raked over her and still she felt nothing, she realized she couldn’t go through with this. It wasn’t fair. Not to either of them. Not with Britton looming in the back of her mind like a freaking chaperone. Damn him. She hugged the towels to her chest. “Listen, Miles—”
The front door crashed against the wall.
Eyes blazing violet, chest heaving, Britton surveyed the scene, fists clenched at his sides.
Then he pinned her with his gaze. “What the hell is going on?”
The question was asked slowly, tightly, and she tensed at the barely contained rage behind those words.
What right did he have to be so angry? None.
She squared her shoulders. “Miles asked for a rain check, and since you were busy tonight, I thought I’d offer him one and maybe have him check me out a little more closely while he was here.”
Britton stepped inside, slamming the door behind him. “Did you fuck him?”
“That’s not any of your damn business.”
Body shaking, he stormed forward. “Did. You. Fuck. Him?” Without waiting for her answer, he spun and charged Miles. “You son of a bitch! I’ll fucking kill you!”
What the hell? Why was he acting like an awakened shifter?
She dropped the towels and ran forward, putting herself between the two men. A mistake. Huge one. Britton’s gaze dropped to her bra and panties, and a feral growl erupted from his chest. He shoved her behind him and stalked straight at Miles, who took a couple of steps back. “Hey! Look, man, I had no idea you guys were a thing. Sorry, I’ll just—”
“A thing? A thing?” he said the words with disgust. “She’s my goddamned mate, you asshole!”
Gasping, she clamped her hand to her mouth as she stared hard at him. Holy. Shit. He was awakened. She had awakened him?
That couldn’t be right. He’d just been with another woman. He told her so himself. But shifters didn’t go around making claims like that unless it was true, and he sure was acting the part of a jealous shifter—defending his own.
So, why would he have gone to another woman? Or…had he?
But if he hadn’t, how had he been able to say he had? The instinct would have been in overdrive,
his beast furious, and it would have been a huge struggle to utter such a lie to his mate. He hadn’t struggled. Not at all. He’d looked her right in the eye and talked with ease about being with another woman.
Or…maybe not…
Dea, she didn’t know. She’d really stopped listening after “hot date” and had simply wanted to get away from him.
One thing was clear though, if she really was his mate, he hadn’t been with Olivia. He couldn’t have been. It would’ve been impossible. He was now ruined for any other woman but Val. Though she felt immense relief that he hadn’t left her bed and jumped into another woman’s, the verdict was out on the being-his-mate thing—that she couldn’t wrap her mind around.
Britton continued advancing on Miles. The muscles of his back were rigid, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. Miles retreated until he ran out of space, hitting the wall with a thud.
Val shook herself out of her stupor and again inserted herself between the two, shoving her hands against Britton’s chest. “What do you mean I’m your mate?”
The unholy glow of his beast stared down at her…through her. Then suddenly, the blue flickered in, spread, and his beast’s presence vaporized.
Horror replaced the rage as he jerked back, away from her.
She stalked after him, needing to hear him say it again. To confirm it. “What did you mean, Britton?”
He turned his back on her. “I wasn’t supposed to say that,” he said quietly.
“Yeah, well…we’ll get to the reason for that in a minute. I want an answer to my question first.”
He finally turned and she was stunned by the regret pinching his face. “Last night, when you kissed me, you awakened the Drall, Val. You’re mine.”
Out of all the verbal blows Britton Townsend had ever thrown at her, this one had a punch that made her see stars. His mate? Yeah, she liked the man she’d gotten to know the last few days, was extremely attracted to him, even. Until this morning—when he’d bluntly let her know he was going out with Olivia—she’d even thought dating him was a possibility. Had actually liked the idea of dating him.
But eternity?
That was a pretty damn big commitment to a guy she couldn’t stand just a few days ago. She shook herself. What was she freaked out about? She could take her sweet-ass time making this decision. She was the female. Unlike Britton, it was her choice to accept him as her mate or not.
