“I hear O’Donnell’s has great cheesecake.”
He turned to find she hadn’t moved. His grin returned. “I haven’t been there in years.” He and Cassie had eaten at the bar and grill once.
He mentally scrolled through his calendar for a date to suggest. Could he wait until next weekend to see Amy again? Then again, he had a couple of nights off from training. Asking to meet her Monday might be too soon, but Friday or Saturday was too far away.
“Are you free Tuesday night? Eight o’clock?” She’d said dessert and he didn’t want to push his luck.
“I’ll meet you there.” This time she did walk away.
Prying his gaze off of the mesmerizing sway of her hips, he climbed into his car. Play it cool. Play it cool. His grin had to be hitting each ear, it was so big.
He had a date. He’d started out thinking he knew her, only to want to get to know her, and now they had a chance.
Movement in the rearview mirror caught his eyes and his smile slipped. The dark sedan he’d thought looked familiar was pulling out of the parking lot. Amy was driving it.
Coincidence that he’d thought he recognized both her and the car, and it turned out to be her car?
She’s lying to you.
She lied and you’re stupid enough to believe her.
He frowned at his steering wheel. His voices had picked a shitty time to increase their volume.
He needed to go home and rest. Self-care. His condition wasn’t going to ruin this for him.
***
The O’Donnell’s parking lot was half full. The supper crowd was filtering out and it was only Tuesday night. The log and stone structure loomed in front of Armana. She glowered at it from the safety of her car.
What the hell was she doing?
She should’ve let Gray walk himself back to his car, but she’d told herself that it was suspicious he thought she looked familiar. Top it off with him returning to that cabin that haunted her dreams. She’d wake with the memory of what they’d done there, her body heavy and aching for his touch.
So she’d stayed with him all the way back to the parking lot, telling herself she had to determine how much memory he’d retained and if it was returning. It was a bullshit excuse, she saw that in hindsight.
She should’ve returned, reported to the commander what had happened on the running trail—not in the cabin—and let him decide the next step. But her protective instinct couldn’t be overridden. What if the commander tried to tamper with Gray’s mind again? No, she couldn’t do that to him or Cassie.
But meeting for dessert? What had she been thinking?
She’d been thinking about the disheartened look on his face when she’d turned him down. She’d been preening over how he’d asked her out even though he thought they’d never met, much less already knew each other intimately. She’d been failing at ignoring her own disappointment over not seeing him again and reminiscing over how easy it was to talk to him and how she’d missed him.
Yeah. So that was what she’d been thinking.
“Stupid female,” she muttered.
Cassie had even invited her over for dinner tonight and Armana had met with her and eaten, then conjured an excuse about going for an evening run at her favorite trail. Lying like a teenager sneaking around with a forbidden boy.
And doubling her guilt was Jace’s absence. Cassie had confided in her that Jace didn’t think the trafficking ring had been truly terminated. There were several, of course, because the sale and trade of flesh knew no boundaries or limits, but this one was nastier than others he’d been hunting. It was like they had an unknown advantage.
And there was Cassie’s concern that her dad would get dragged into it again. Another reason for Armana to delude herself into thinking that staying close to Gray was a valid plan and not a selfish one.
Gray pulled up in his Impala. He was a few minutes early, but not desperately early like she’d been. She got out and ignored the flutter in her belly. Was she twenty again?
He smiled when he saw her. She’d seen him in workout clothes and Jace’s things. Tonight, Gray wore charcoal-gray slacks and a maroon shirt that lightened the brown in his hair and eyes. And the way it stretched across his shoulders only reminded her of how she’d clutched them when she rode him.
A wave of heat rolled through her. Good thing he wasn’t a shifter or he’d smell her desire.
He crossed to her and held an arm out like a damn gentleman. These small gestures showed her both how human he was and how far she’d come. When Armana was younger, she’d bare her fangs and snarl at a male trying to be gallant. She would’ve taken it as a sign he thought she was the weaker sex. Nowadays, she appreciated the gesture for the respect it showed.
Gray hadn’t shown anything less than appreciation when she’d helped him through the woods before and after he’d gotten hurt. He didn’t marvel over her abilities because she was female. Just because.
Touching him as they walked into the restaurant was all kinds of wonderful. His scent. His solid body under her hands again.
Damn.
She scanned the restaurant as she walked in. Inhaling deeply, she sifted through the scents. No shifters, thank the Mother.
She could use the excuse she was keeping an eye on Gray, but there’d be consequences to face, from both the commander and the Synod. And Cassie and Jace. What would the Synod do? Lock her up?
Dating humans wasn’t forbidden. Armana wasn’t planning to reveal their people to him—again. What would happen?
She didn’t want to find out. She caught herself from turning and striding back out, but she’d come this far. What if he’d remembered more since Sunday?
Finding out would be prudent and she was here now. They didn’t know anyone in the place, so she might as well stay.
After they were seated, they fell back into relaxed visiting, perusing the desserts, picking ones they both wanted to try and swapping them.
When she’d first charged into Gray’s house, their relationship—as friends and lovers—had been built on survival, fear for their children, and their own loneliness. Now, she was getting to know more about him, and dammit she liked him. A lot. He was witty, funny, and mature, and she already knew sex with him was amazing.
Her body throbbed, begging her to find relief.
As the workers started sweeping and cleaning tables, Gray glanced at the time on his phone. “I guess they’re closing up.”
She sighed wistfully. It’d been a good night, and she didn’t want it to end. “Yeah, I suppose we should go.”
“Yeah.” He sounded as regretful as she was.
He paid and they strolled out to her car. Her arm was woven through his like when they’d entered, only her body was pressed against his, her head nearly on his shoulder.
“Can I see you again?” he asked as they stopped by her car door.
It was on her lips to say she couldn’t. Shouldn’t. But his head was tipped and his lips were so close and all she could think about was what a good kisser he was.
She rose to her tiptoes and planted her mouth on his. He released her arm to wrap his around her waist. Their kiss deepened until she twined her arms around his neck. They were connected, her breasts rubbing against his chest, her needy core suggesting she rock against him.
She softly broke the kiss. “I don’t want this night to end.”
“Me either.” His gaze, steeped in desire, swept over her face. “Do you want to come back to my place?”
“Yes. I’ll follow you.” Bad idea, Armana.
Alarms should be going off. Blaring. But she didn’t stop herself. He got in his car, she got in hers, and she followed him. She knew where he lived but he didn’t know that.
Her internal warnings were silent. She had the green light to go back to his place. After so many years of depriving herself and her senses, tonight was hers.
Chapter Twelve
Gray dipped his head to lick along Amy’s graceful collarbone. She writhed und
er him as he thrust in and out, trying to keep a steady pace when he just wanted to frantically pump away.
He’d let her into the house and asked if she was sure. Her eyes had danced and she’d said, “I’m old enough to know what I want.”
He was, too. And they’d both wanted it now and hadn’t made it upstairs to his bedroom. She was stretched out on his couch, where he’d ushered her to sit while he got them something to drink, not wanting to seem too forward. He’d brought her home, hoping to continue the date, and of course, as a red-blooded man with an attractive, smart, sexy woman, if things went further… But he hadn’t had expectations.
Their glasses of water sat untouched on the end table. Amy had kissed him and things had just progressed. Really fast.
The way she clung to him, like she had a craving and he was the only flavor she wanted. A guy could get used to that.
He knew how she felt. Since he’d dreamed about her pale eyes, then heard her voice, he’d yearned for her.
She twined her long legs around him, her hips rising to meet him. Her hands gripped his shoulders and held him so tightly he couldn’t nibble down past her neck. Instead he captured her mouth and caught her moan. Or was that his? He couldn’t tell, enraptured by the feel of her slick sex coating him.
Her walls fisted around him and he kissed her harder, hoping to stave off his orgasm long enough to see to hers.
He needn’t have worried. She exploded, going rigid in his arms before she shook through her climax. He released right after her, a surge so powerful he was caught between wondering if he’d survive and never wanting it to end.
“Gray,” she whispered. “I missed”—she tensed for a heartbeat—“this. I missed this.”
“Me, too,” he replied honestly. He missed intimacy. He missed being in a relationship. He missed being…normal. It’d been so many years since his disease hadn’t steered his life and had the final say in a relationship. Not many women wanted to enter their golden years with a man who might be more work than pleasure.
“What are you thinking about?” Amy stroked his hair.
He adjusted them, slipping out of her and mourning the loss of her heat, until they were nestled into the couch cushions. His backside faced out and she was snuggled between him and the couch back. He’d gladly fall off to keep her comfortable.
How should he answer? Was it too soon for honesty? She might be looking for a good time, or several good times, but not a lasting partnership. He wanted them to last, but he’d only just met her. At the same time, it wasn’t fair to either of them to continue growing closer when he only got more invested and she might check out when he revealed his schizophrenia.
“I’m marveling over you.” That part was true.
“I do the same with you.”
“Really?” He was nothing to marvel at.
“You’re genuine, Gray Stockwell. That’s hard to find in a man.” She laid her hand flat on his chest. His heart thrummed under her touch.
Genuine. Good God, he was anything but. How could he be when he had to hide a huge part of himself?
“My feelings are genuine and I like you, Amy.”
She blinked and uncertainty flitted through her expression. “I hear a but in there.”
“No buts.” He rested his head on the cushion and came to terms with what he had to do. Things hadn’t progressed to this level so quickly with other women he dated. They either had “the talk” before sex, or he’d known they were only in it for the bedroom activity and hadn’t worried about it.
He and Amy clicked. He had to tell her. “You might be the one with a major reservation. I have schizophrenia.”
Her eyes didn’t flare wide. She didn’t gasp or look away. She brushed her fingers across his jaw. He loved when she did that. “Tell me about it.”
He did. The story poured out of him. He’d never been this free recounting his past before. He ended with, “So I’m stable now, but I don’t know what my future holds. I try to concentrate on being my healthiest self today so I don’t stress as bad about a future breakdown.”
“You sound as if it’s inevitable.”
“I have more hope than I used to. If I’m to believe what I find online, and what my shrink says, it sounds like my future can be as stable as today. The side effects of my medicine might be more pronounced and it’ll be harder to maintain this level of physical fitness as I age, but I’m…hopeful. I want to be around to see my grandkids.”
Another shadow crossed her face and was gone. “Is Cassie thinking about having kids?”
Amy’s familiarity with Cassie warmed him. He must’ve really talked his daughter up. “Someday. I don’t expect to hear any news in the next couple of years, but she’s almost thirty. I’m guessing it’ll be soon.”
“Hmm. I guess humans have a shorter window in their life when they’re fertile.”
He smiled. “Unlike cats and dogs.”
Her brows shot up and she chuckled. “Right. It’s not easy for all creatures to reproduce, but some don’t have to worry about their biological clock counting down.”
“And if she doesn’t have kids, then she doesn’t. I just want to be around if she does.”
He expected another smile from her, but her brows drew together. “I wish you could be around for that, too.”
“What about you, are your kids thinking about families yet?”
She finally smiled. “Not in the near future, either. Jace—Jason and…Megan…are enjoying their new marriages and their careers.”
He grinned at the way Amy said “marriage” like it was a foreign term. He could relate. It was still hard to think of his little girl getting married and maybe having babies.
He stroked Amy’s silky, warm skin. “What kind of grandparent do you think you’ll be?” Why was he talking about grandkids? He was usually afraid of scaring away his dates because of his age. Not everyone was comfortable aging and dating men older than them, if only by a few years.
“Present, I hope,” Amy said. “That sounded odd. Um…my kids and I are close, but we’re also not.”
“It’s like they keep a part of themselves from you.”
“Yeah.”
They fell quiet and eventually, Gray drifted off. A black wolf with ethereal blue eyes haunted his dreams. They ran through the woods together and fear dogged their footsteps. He woke to Amy climbing over him, but she dropped a kiss on his head. “I’ll call you later. Get some rest.”
He was rolling off the couch when she finished dressing and was out the door. Gathering his clothes, he tried not to ponder her abrupt departure. One look at the time and he understood. It was after midnight and he had to work the next morning. Maybe she was just being considerate.
Did you think she wouldn’t move on?
He brushed off the voice and went upstairs to bed. She said she’d call. And if she didn’t, well, he would.
Rubbing his temples, he sat on his bed. Those weird dreams. He might have to choose paths through town for the next few weeks.
***
Armana pursed her lips at her phone as she relaxed in her room after a sweaty run through the woods. The missed call from Gray taunted her. It’d been over a week since the night she’d irresponsibly hooked up with him. She knew better.
Sleeping with him was bad enough but getting to know him was worse. He was funny, relaxed, and attuned to her. She really enjoyed being with him—with or without clothing.
She toed her shoes off and sighed. They hit the floor with a clatter and she didn’t move to pick them up. Earlier that morning, she’d run her wolf. During the afternoon, she’d applied for jobs, and God, that had made her feel oddly worthless. Begging to be of service somewhere. She caught on fast and training was always a breeze. Properly cordial and professional, she ticked all the boxes for any prospective employer, yet she had to go through the process. Interview, reference check, wait. Maybe they’d hire her, or they’d go with the applicant a fraction of her age with a raindrop of experience.
>
She paused to listen for anyone outside her room. Her door was shut, but shifter hearing might be keen enough to overhear the message Gray had left.
She hit play. “Hey, Amy.” Argh, she hated when he called her that. “I’d like to see you again. We could have dinner this time or even go for a run. Either way, thanks for the other night.” There was a small disgruntled sound before the voicemail clicked off, like he was frustrated with his message but it was too late to take it back.
He was…adorable. Handsome. Virile. And a great cuddler. He made her feel seen. She hadn’t connected her restless feeling at the lodge with the way she felt invisible living here. She hadn’t adopted the Guardians as her pack, neither had she returned to Lobo Springs where her original pack lived. She wasn’t a rogue, technically, but her stay here was only supposed to be temporary.
Yet, months later, here she was.
She didn’t want to leave the Freemont area, but she didn’t want to commit to a pack that saw her as a charity case.
She went back into her phone and deleted the message. Jace finding out about her and Gray at this pivotal time in her life would get her kicked out on her ass. No pack and not following the orders of the one who provided shelter for her wouldn’t turn out well.
She’d just set her phone on the nightstand when footsteps resonated outside the door. Two sets. Male.
There was a tap on her door. “Mother.”
Good. She was Mother today. Sitting up, she called, “Come in.”
Jace entered with Commander Fitzsimmons. The two males filled her small space, highlighting what a small existence she’d pared herself down to.
“Is something wrong?” she asked. She breathed evenly, shoving a spike of anxiety down that they’d discovered she’d been with Gray. Like she was hiding a bad habit from her parents, she’d driven around for an hour with all her windows open to dilute Gray’s scent. Then, like a spouse hiding a lover, she’d showered as soon as she arrived home.
Jace answered, his expression grim. “I’ve caught the trail of a trafficking syndicate that’s even bigger than the one from last month. They’re connected.” He glanced at the commander, whose expression was as stone-faced as her son’s.
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