Chapter Three
Clara looked up at the sound of pounding on the front door and frowned. Barely anyone came out here. Well, except those damn property developers and surely they wouldn't come twice in a week? Part of her was miffed that she didn't notice the sound of their truck traverse the driveway, probably a sign that the gravel was too thin. Normally, she'd have heard or spotted them before they got to set foot on her porch.
Laying down the hammer and nails she held, she used her sleeve to wipe the perspiration from her forehead as she walked from the unfinished deck, through the folding doors into the house, and made her way towards the front door, a heavy feeling in her heart. The developers were a nuisance and she hated dealing with them.
If it were anyone else, her parents for instance, they normally would have just walked in, but lately she'd taken to locking the door. There was something about the developers that made her nervous. It was probably Stanton's bully boy tactics disguised under his smooth smile and shiny suit that did it. Or maybe that he always brought muscle, like she was going to start a fight! Even so, confronted with a locked door, any member of her family would think nothing of walking around back in search of her. She'd gotten used to their unannounced visits and really, it was sweet that they kept checking in on her. Well, originally it had been sweet. Now it was kind of annoying.
Her nostrils flared as she caught a stray out of place scent. Strangely, whoever was at the door made her wolf perk to attention and not in an unpleasant way. She felt… what was that? Excited?
With a wary look on her face, she turned the key in the lock and opened the door, surprise nearly making her heart falter a beat.
In front of her stood not her parents, or friends—not that she'd seen many of them in a while—or even those damn developers, but instead the man that made her wolf yip and whirl in her mind. The man who featured in her dreams, the man who was on her mind almost as often as Colton. The man who could have been her lover. Who should be her lover.
Cade.
Her wolf howled and scrabbled at the corners of her minds, delighted to see him, desperate to throw them both into his arms and just revel in the pleasure of being held by him.
Instead she froze, her attention diverted as a second man stepped out from behind Cade and her wolf went into overdrive. Tall, impossibly broad shouldered and muscled, with a shaggy crop of blond hair, just curling at the edges, and eyes that seemed amber, he was delicious. And he was looking at her with an expression that moved swiftly from annoyance to the surprise she was sure echoed in her own eyes.
She sniffed again. There was that scent. Tiger, she registered in shock as her inner wolf slobbered. A freaking tiger? On my porch? Damn me.
Her heart rate rose as she stared in shock at the two men, not quite sure who to focus on. Damn me, if fate didn't steal my mate and then send me two.
And with that shocking thought, Clara's eyes fluttered. She gasped a ragged breath, her knees buckled and everything went black.
***
Clara blinked, her eyelids fluttering rapidly until a sea of white span into view. Her ceiling. Her bedroom ceiling. What?
"Don't move." The mattress pressed down as someone sat next to her and a cool flannel was laid across her forehead. The same voice said, "You fainted."
"The heat," she murmured, closing her eyes again. She sniffed the air. Was someone cooking? Her stomach growled at the smell of spaghetti and she slapped a hand over it as the man chuckled. It wasn't just the delicious cooking scents that made her hungry as she inhaled. It was the man too. She recognized that scent all right. Damn it. It haunted her.
"Yeah, must've been the heat," he said, and chuckled again.
Blinking, she struggled to push herself up on her elbows and found a pillow swiftly stuffed behind her back, hands helping her sit up. At last his face swam into focus.
"Cade?" she whispered, still not quite believing it.
"In the flesh," he replied, a tentative smile on his lips.
"What are you doing here?"
"Seem to remember I had an open invitation. I just finished up some work and came by for a visit. Can't say I expected you to faint at my feet as a reception." He seemed amused but she couldn’t fathom why.
"Can't say I expected to see you at my door," she shot back. "A long way to come for a visit."
"Just happened to be in the neighborhood," Cade said, throwing out the old line with a wry smile. Before she could say anything, she found a glass pressed to her lips. "Drink. Little sips. You're dehydrated and I suspect you're not eating well either."
Clara didn't have the energy to argue. Besides, she was parched. She sipped, the refreshingly cool water slipping down her throat. "Thanks. Why can I smell cooking?"
"That would be because my friend is a whizz in the kitchen and is whipping up a mean spaghetti marinara."
"Your friend is in my kitchen?" she blurted, whipping the cold flannel from her forehead and sitting up much too quickly. Her head swimming, she sank back down on the pillow.
"Doesn't look like anyone else has been in there in a while. What do you eat?" he asked, his eyes running over her. She followed his eyes down and blanched. Her shirt had gone, and her shorts, replaced by the loose t-shirt she slept in. The sheet had been drawn to her waist.
"Where are my clothes?" Clara asked, puzzled. Her memory was fuzzy around the edges but she didn't recall getting up here, climbing into bed or changing. She did remember the wooden floor coming at her rapidly. Oh yes, she fainted.
"You weren't comfortable, so I changed you."
"You what?" she screeched, clutching the sheet to her.
Cade shrugged. "You were all dirty and sweaty and you fainted. You've been asleep damn near three hours. I figured you may as well be comfortable. You could probably do with a shower too."
Clara sucked in an indignant breath. First he turned up unbidden on her doorstep, then he took her clothes off and now he was telling her she needed a shower? Of all the arrogant jerks! No one ever dared talk to her like that, not when they knew how bad she felt inside. Except her wolf just seemed to sleepily raise its head, cocking it to one side, like it didn't much care how indignant she felt.
"Out." She pointed a finger towards the door. "Get out!"
"No need to yell. Luke said dinner will be ready in ten. You have plenty of time to have your shower. Want me to pick some clothes out for you? I gotta say you look like you need feeding up but I see you've still got some cute little dresses in your closet." He gave her a smug look.
That was it. The fury bubbled inside her. "You went through my things?"
"How do you think I found your shirt?" Cade got off her bed and she watched him stride into the attached bathroom, her eyes straying to the way his jeans molded to his backside. What was she thinking? She wrenched her eyes upwards, fixing them on the corner of the door jamb, bristling as she heard the water in the shower start to run. "I put towels out for you," he told her when he reappeared in her bedroom. "Don't take long, 'kay? You've got guests."
"You're not a guest. You're a...a..." She struggled for a word, settling on, "Interloper!"
"That's no way to talk to your brother-in-law," he scoffed and with a tug, wrenched back the sheet she still unconsciously gripped.
"What are you doing now?" Clara asked, shuffling backwards until her pillows gave way to the hard headboard.
"Helping you get a move on." Cade lunged towards her, grabbing her in both arms and even though she kicked and pinched, without putting a lot of effort into it, he manhandled her into the bathroom, relaxing his grip slightly as he pulled back the shower door and deposited her inside, t-shirt and all, right under the warm jets of water. The door banged shut as he stepped back.
"I hate you," she screamed.
"That's more like it. That's the reception I was expecting." And with that, Cade turned on his heel and walked out the bathroom, leaving her staring after him as the water plastered her hair to her scalp and thoroughly soaked the t-shirt
. Like a petulant child, she stamped her foot and screamed.
Leaning over, she planted her hands on her knees, heaving air back into her lungs as the water cascaded over her back. Surprisingly, screaming felt good and she couldn't help the laughter that bubbled forth. Really? Screaming and stamping because she'd gotten a little wet? Clara laughed harder, finally rising to peel off her tee and her panties—definitely the ones she pulled on this morning, she thought with relief, although they really weren’t the prettiest pair—and throw them into the corner of the stall, turning so the water sprayed her front.
She couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed so hard. Not that it had anything to do with Cade, of course, Clara told herself. It had nothing to do with him whatsoever. In fact, she was annoyed. Very annoyed.
And not at all happy to see him. No, not at all.
And if she kept telling herself that then maybe her nipples would stop stiffening into little peaks every time his name popped into her head. It might be her body's reaction but it didn't jive with the turmoil he constantly put her head into.
Since when did he get off walking out her life, with only handful of emails to let her know he was okay, then turn up unannounced? It wasn't like it was bad enough to lose her husband, but to lose Cade too when she’d needed him so badly? It had been too much to bear. And it was all her fault. After all, she’d driven him away.
Washing quickly, she shampooed her hair and smoothed shower gel over her body, checked her legs and ‘pits weren’t stubbly, and finally flicked the faucet to off. Stepping out, she grabbed the towels Cade helpfully left, quickly drying, then brushed her teeth to get rid of the cottony feeling in her mouth. Finally she dragged a wide-toothed comb through her hair, it already drying quickly in the heat, and scowled into the mirror. Funnily enough she didn't like her reflection. Angry and surly didn't suit her at all. She was outdoors and sunshine, happiness and laughter. Or, at least, she had been until fate turned her life upside down.
Walking into her bedroom, the towel firmly tucked about her she stopped and scowled.
On her bed lay a sun dress, her favorite as it happened, a pink cotton number with a fitted bodice and a skirt that flared. On top of it lay a lacy thong.
"Cade," she muttered, with a shake of her head. If he thought she was wearing that to dinner with him and his tiger friend, he had to be kidding. Bypassing the bed to open her closet, she pulled out clean underwear, jeans and a cute pink button down shirt that would set off her blonde curls nicely. She dressed quickly.
The rich smell of spaghetti sauce filled the air and she couldn't help sniffing. She used to love cooking, but like so many other things, she couldn't be bothered now there was only her to cook for.
Unbidden, the memory of a barbecue they'd held that fateful summer swam into the forefront of her mind. It had been a glorious day, the sun high and heavy in the azure sky. They'd packed up a picnic and walked down to the lake, all of them—Colton, Cade, her and a big group of friends—giddy with the expanse of natural wilderness stretching in front of them. While the boys set up the firepit, she and her friends had gone swimming in the lake. On returning to tend to the food, the boys had streaked past them, leaping into the lake wearing nothing but feral smiles. How she remembered gasping at the sight of Colton and Cade racing past her in the buff, their tanned backsides pumping as they hit the water, their matching green eyes flashing with laughter. She had seriously considered Colton's suggestion to rethink her position and to take Cade as her mate that day, the desire to claim him surging through her, her inner wolf chafing to mark him. Maybe if they'd been alone, just the three of them, she would have. Life could have been so different.
Clara closed her eyes and sucked in a breath. Must not think about Cade naked. Must. Not. No good could come of it and damn it, if he wasn't in her house, already making her think of things she had no place thinking of.
And with a tiger, too.
A tiger who made her wolf whirl and howl in recognition, a man who made her swoon. How embarrassing. Try as she might, she couldn't quite comprehend exactly what this tiger-man was doing in her kitchen cooking. What he was doing here at all. Cade had said something about him being his friend? Maybe that was it. Screw the heat. It was probably just her wolf's, and her body's, strong reaction to Cade after so long that had her fainting. Probably it was nothing to do with the tiger at all.
Part of her wanted to shut the door and hide in her bedroom, but another part of her—and it wasn't just her stomach grumbling—but a more curious part, wanted to find out more about why the two men had pitched up, unannounced on her doorstep. Fortunately it was her stomach that pushed her on. Cade was right. She hadn't been eating properly and she was hungry.
With another deep breath, another internal 'one step at a time' inner speech, she put one foot in front of the other and went to face the two men who'd decided to invade her peace. At their own peril.
Chapter Four
At the sound of the light footstep in the doorway, Luke looked up from the generous serving of pasta he ladled into each of the three dishes and smiled, a smile that didn't falter as the beautiful woman in the doorway scowled back.
He'd only glimpsed Clara for a few seconds before her eyes rolled back into her head and Cade had leaped forward to save her from crashing to the floor. But those seconds had been enough to throw him into turmoil. Fully prepared to loathe the woman who had caused his friend such pain, he hadn't reckoned on his tiger bursting forth and roaring in recognition of the woman who should be his.
In those few seconds he'd caught sight of her gorgeous tumbling mane of blonde curls and her lightly tanned skin, and could only imagine the body hidden under the work-appropriate shorts and t-shirt. His tiger even growled and his incisors lengthened as Cade caught her, swinging her gently into his arms and striding inside with barely a backwards glance. Luke had to restrain himself from attacking his own best friend and making off with the woman himself.
Never had a woman caused such a primal reaction in him.
Rooted to the spot on the porch for a moment, Luke found himself in a rare instance of indecision. Follow inside and find out more about this woman who drove the men in her life wild—and away—or step back, and not interfere. Before he even thought about it properly, his first instinct won out and he stepped inside, shutting the door behind him.
In that moment he knew he had probably sealed his fate. Damn it, he wanted Clara for a mate.
Luke had watched silently as Cade checked her pulse, and nearly bowled him over when he made to carry her upstairs, returning a short while later. In and out, Cade had gone all afternoon, checking on Clara while she slept off the effects of her fainting fit; time Luke took to get himself in order so he didn't end up prowling around in tiger form, marking his territory with a lift of his leg. Poking around her neat as a pin house, he was pretty certain she would be mad as hell if he did that.
And now, here she was, looking fresh and cute, her hair still slightly damp from the shower.
"Hi," he said and smiled, because that seemed the smartest thing to do given she didn't know him from Adam and he was making free in her kitchen.
She raised her eyebrows. "Hi? Really? That's all you have to say."
"Most women think it's a good conversation starter. Actually, I believe it's generally considered a good greeting wherever you come from." He turned away and reached tongs into the pan, holding up a strand of pasta and checking it. He felt Clara’s eyes follow him as he turned his back to strain the pasta before heaping it into a large white serving dish he’d found on an open shelf.
"Considering you've broken into my home and made yourself at home in my kitchen, I hardly think it's a good start."
"One, I didn't break in. The door was open." She narrowed her eyes, given his hazy version of the truth, and Luke held up a finger as he continued, "Two, we're hungry. Taste this." He dipped a spoon into the sauce and held it to her. She narrowed her eyes at him. He shrugged and licked the spoon. “
Perfect.”
"If you think that makes it..."
"Told you she was feisty," said Cade, brushing past her and picking up the glass salad bowl. "Don't hurt me. You'll be picking glass out of your feet for days if you do that, 'k?"
Clara turned to follow Cade, but not without a backwards glance at Luke, who winked at her, grinning when he saw her affronted face. "You said I was feisty?" she asked, surprised.
Luke grabbed the bowls and followed them. "He also said you were butt ugly, but I didn't believe that."
Clara gasped, which made them both snort. "Oh, ha ha. Very funny."
"Sit," said Luke, unloading the bowls and pulling out a chair for her.
"I can pull out my own chair, thank you very much," she said smartly, moving around the table and doing just that.
Luke shrugged. "Suit yourself." He retreated to the kitchen, mixed the pasta and sauce, returning to slide it in front of Cade who'd snagged the seat next to her. No matter, thought Luke, I'm more than happy to sit opposite her. It'll give me a chance to get a proper look at the she-wolf.
He watched as she inhaled, licking her luscious pink lips, an unconscious movement that caused his cock to twitch. At least no one could see seeing as they were all tucked under the table. He was fairly sure Cade might send him flying through the window—Cade would probably even close it first then toss him through it for extra effect—if he thought Luke was getting a hard-on for his woman, which he was.
"I didn't get a chance to introduce myself," he said, extending a hand across the table. "I'm Luke."
"Cade's friend. I got it," Clara replied, giving his hand a quick shake then snapping it back as if electrocuted, her eyes widening. If he wasn't mistaken, her breath quickened too. Did she feel what he felt? She seemed to shake herself and stared at the bowl Cade placed in front of her as she asked, "What I don't get is why you two are in my house, acting as if you live here."
Second Chance Mates Page 3
