Nel turned around. Jaxen’s smile was a mirror of Tristan’s but nothing in his gray eyes warmed her to the soles of her feet the way Tristan’s chocolate-brown ones did. “Sorry, I have plans.”
It was Tristan’s first night off since he’d returned to work and he had promised to make her a home-cooked dinner as a thank-you for taking care of him for nearly a week. It really hadn’t been a chore. He’d cleaned up after himself, once he was able to hobble around, and there were no dishes to wash because they’d ordered in every night. Nel wasn’t much of a cook. The most she could do was boil water.
Best of all, he didn’t complain when she opted to paint rather than watch television. He simply joined her on the porch with a book. Sometimes he read in silence, sometimes they discussed whatever topic came to mind.
She had enjoyed having someone to come home to and who was as happy to see her as she was to see him. His presence had kept the loneliness at bay.
She had missed him terribly.
“Another date with Marie?” Jaxen stared pointedly at the frozen meals in her cart. Since Tristan had returned home, she was back to eating prepackaged meals for supper.
“Not tonight.”
“We could make a date for tomorrow.”
Nel knew Tristan’s interest wouldn’t turn into anything serious, but getting involved with Jaxen was something she couldn’t stomach. Especially after learning what Jaxen had done to Tristan when they were teenagers. “Thanks, but no.”
A tingle spread through her body and she sensed Tristan’s approach before she saw him round the corner, basket in hand. She felt, more than saw, a subtle tension creep into his body.
“The butcher butterflied the chicken breasts for me,” he said, depositing the basket in her cart. “I picked up some fresh asparagus and red potatoes. How’s the deli coming with the thin-sliced ham and Swiss cheese?”
“I placed the order a few minutes ago. It should be ready soon.” Nel noticed he’d also picked up a premium bottle of chardonnay.
“He’s your other plans?” Irritation briefly flashed in Jaxen’s eyes.
“I promised to make Nel supper,” Tristan said casually, though his jaw was clenched. “It’s the least I can do for her hospitality and company.”
There was an awkward pause.
“Why don’t you join us, Jaxen?” There might’ve been a hint of sarcasm in Tristan’s voice. “We’ll have plenty of food, wine. It’s casual, so you can come with what you’re wearing.”
The air immediately became charged. He and Jaxen stared at each other until Jaxen finally declined the offer and left.
“Why did you invite him?”
“Because I knew he’d say no.” Tristan shrugged.
The deli clerk signaled their order was ready and Tristan reached for the freshly packaged ham and cheese.
“He asked me out.”
“Did you agree?” Tristan’s knuckles tightened on the cart as they left the deli.
“No. Something about him doesn’t feel right.”
Tristan gave her a curious look.
“When I’m with you, I feel comfortable. Around him, I’m on edge.”
“He’s made some bad choices in life. I don’t think he feels comfortable himself.”
“I feel bad about turning him down.”
“Don’t.” Tristan unloaded the items from the cart onto the conveyor at the checkout. “Trust your instincts, Nel. They’ll never steer you wrong.”
Oh, really?
Well, she couldn’t help but wonder if Tristan would still believe that if he knew her instincts were telling her not to let go of him.
* * *
“Not too shabby, chef.”
“Couldn’t have done it without my sous chef.” Tristan added the garnishing touches to their plates, looking too damn sexy wearing an apron and a crooked smile.
Nel was just about to light the candles on the table-sized kitchen island when he tucked the wine bottle beneath his arm and picked up the plates and silverware. “I’d rather eat in the living room.”
Nel gathered the candles, the corkscrew and the glasses, and followed him.
“It seems weird to eat in the kitchen when we always eat here.” Tristan set the coffee table and dropped the large sofa pillows onto the floor.
Nel dialed down the brightness of the living room lights to a soft glow. After depositing her items on the table, she wiggled herself comfortable on the pillow. Tristan opened the wine, filled the glasses halfway and handed one to Nel.
“Here’s to good times.” Tristan clinked his glass against hers and took a long swallow.
Over the rim of her glass, Nel watched the fluid movement of his neck muscles. Every move he made was graceful. Even when he hobbled, there was a certain poetry and stealth in his steps.
The artist in her more than appreciated his beauty and grace, but the woman in her saw the kind heart and gracious soul hidden beneath his physical appearance.
“Dig in.” He nodded at her plate of chicken cordon bleu, steamed asparagus and roasted red potatoes.
She cut a bite of the lightly breaded chicken breast stuffed with cheese and ham and popped it into her mouth. The flavors blended beautifully. “Delicious.” She swallowed and licked her lips.
Grinning, Tristan cut into his meal.
“Seriously, this is fabulous.” She took another bite. “Where did you learn to cook?”
“In college I took a few cooking classes off campus. Thought it would impress the girls.”
“How did that work out?”
“I learned to cook.” Tristan remained focused on his plate. “It’s not a lot of fun cooking for one, though.”
“It’s much better when you have a grunt to wash and chop the veggies.”
“Yep.” He munched a stalk of asparagus.
They ate in amicable silence; she kept stealing glances at him as often as she noticed him stealing glances at her. Each time, her heart would race because it knew that when he left, things between them would inevitably change.
She finished every bite, amazed that he had plated the perfect amount of food. Not so much that she’d be overly full, not so little she’d want seconds. He finished at the same time she did, even though his plate had held more.
He emptied the last of the chardonnay into their glasses, handed Nel her glass and took his own in hand. He toed the coffee table away from them, stretched his legs and crossed his ankles. Then he draped his arm over her shoulders as they reclined against the couch.
“Dinner really was fantastic,” she said quietly.
“It was fun making it with you.” He met her gaze, but didn’t hold it. The glimpse he gave her was so full of raw emotion that a lump formed in her throat. He leaned his head against the couch seat.
“So, you’re back to full-time duty without restrictions?”
“Yep.” He nodded. “I have twelve-hour shifts for the next two days, then I’m off again.”
Nel bit back the urge to plan something for his day off. “Don’t overdo it.”
“Thank you for caring.” Tristan’s fingers caressed her jaw and then he was leaning in for a kiss.
It was whisper soft, like a feather christening her mouth. She sighed and he deepened the kiss, his tongue parting her lips in a gentle probe. He shifted his weight, urging her down onto the floor pillows. Expectation curled in her lower belly but a nag swirled in her mind. A clean break would be better than complicating matters by having sex, which would only leave her begging for more.
He nibbled her lower lip then soothed the sting with his tongue. Propped on one elbow, his other hand trailed down her arm. Chills spread across her skin.
His kisses blazed a trail to her ear. He flicked the lobe then gently sucked it into his mouth. He nosed the
sweet spot behind her ear.
“God, Nel. You smell so good.” His hand slipped beneath her shirt. Warm, strong, patient, he stroked her skin.
“Tristan,” she breathed. “We can’t do this.”
“Why not?” He nuzzled her neck.
Her nose filled with his clean, masculine scent, making it hard for her to think clearly.
His fingers wiggled beneath her bra cup and he began kneading her breast. Electric pulses shot through her body and converged in her sex.
She flattened her palms against his chest, curling her fingers in the fabric of his shirt. “This isn’t a good idea.”
“Sure it is.” He chuckled in her ear. The deep, throaty sound reverberated through her body, a deep, sensual throb.
He lifted his face to hers, clenched in hesitation. His smile faded and his disappointment pinched her heart.
“No pressure.” He began pulling away. “You feel so damn right to me, Nel.”
Truthfully, it felt right to her, too. Nel grabbed him and kissed him with all her might.
“Thank god,” he whispered against her mouth. He yanked off his shirt and she palmed his muscled chest. His smile returned, as dazzling as ever.
Slowly, he unbuttoned her blouse as he kissed her deeply. He unfastened the snap of her pants, then pushed them down her hips and pulled them off her legs. He cupped her mound, rubbing lightly so the friction from the lace maddeningly teased her clit.
“Show me where you like to be touched,” he whispered against her skin.
Her fingers closed over his. She slipped their hands beneath her panties and guided his strokes along her folds in a familiar rhythm.
Tristan never wavered; he kissed and caressed until she was lost in the sensation of his touch and breathless. Unhurried, he continued to stroke her. As the incredible pressure built, his fingers slid inside her and the heel of his hand ground against her clit.
“God, you’re so wet. Do you have any idea how good you feel to me?” he panted.
His kiss turned urgent, needful. The thrust of his fingers harder, faster.
“Oh, god,” she cried out as ribbons of pleasure pulsed through her body.
A faint ringing sound grew louder, dragging her away from the splendor.
“Tristan.”
“Hmm.” He kissed beneath the curve of her jaw.
“Tristan!”
His eyes opened, his gaze unfocused. “What, baby?”
“Your phone is ringing.”
* * *
“Get up!” Tristan kicked the rickety metal cot.
Jaxen opened one eye, then the other. “Someone’s in a bad mood.” He slowly sat up, swung his feet off the cot and stood. His nose twitched. “Guess I interrupted something, huh?”
Boy, did he. And it had damn near killed Tristan to leave Nel tonight. “Start walking before I decide to leave your ass here.”
“My mom and your pops would definitely not be happy if you did.” Laughing, Jaxen vacated the jail cell. “See? A misunderstanding, just like I said,” he told the deputy holding open the door.
“Don’t be an ass.” Tristan shoved Jaxen forward, then nodded at the deputy. “Thanks, Hank.”
“The sheriff will want to talk to you tomorrow,” Hank said.
“I’m sure he will.”
Tristan walked to the truck with his hands clenched to keep from throttling his whistling cousin. Doors closed, engine cranked, he finally popped Jaxen’s arm. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Look in the mirror, man. I’m not the one going ballistic. Maybe you should get checked out.”
“I told you to stay away from Nel. Instead of listening, you asked her out.”
“You never answered my question. Without a mate-claim...” Jaxen stared out the window, whistling.
Tristan had a thought to haul Jaxen’s ass back inside, toss him behind bars and throw away the key. “Stay the hell away from Nel. Or I will boot you so far out of the territory the Hubble telescope won’t be able to find you.”
“Chill out, man. I’ve never known you to get this bent out of shape over a woman. So, what’s up with you?”
“I had to leave her to haul your furry ass out of jail. What were you thinking? Breaking into one of my dad’s model homes?”
“I had a key, and Deidre and I wanted a place to be alone.” Jaxen snorted. “Didn’t know there was an alarm.”
“Do you have any idea how this is going to look to my boss?”
“Believe it or not, I consider you being a deputy a perk. If not for you, I might’ve been in there all night.” Jaxen flashed a cocky grin and patted Tristan’s shoulder. “Thanks, cuz. I owe you.”
“I don’t want you to owe me. I want you to get your life straight. Stop screwing up. Become a productive member of the pack.”
Well maybe not that last one. Tristan didn’t mind if Jaxen became a productive citizen, but he preferred it to be in some other place.
“Your mom is sick again. I can’t believe you left her alone. What if she needed something?”
“She has your number.”
“Unbelievable.”
Tristan pulled out of the parking lot and drove to Ruby’s place. Jaxen strolled into the house as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Tristan stomped in behind him.
“What took you so long?” Nate stood in the living room. His gaze fixed on Tristan.
Tristan held his tongue. Anything he said would incite an argument and he was too tired for a fight.
“Did they hurt you?” Bundled in her rocking chair, Ruby lifted her arms.
“I’m fine, Mama.” Jaxen hugged her.
No matter Jaxen’s flaws, he did love his mother.
“Go on to bed, Ruby. I’ll sort this out,” Tristan’s father said.
“I’ll sit right here.” Ruby coughed hard. “I wanna know everything that happened.”
Tristan didn’t want to be culpable or complicit, so he went into the kitchen to make a pot of herbal tea.
Ruby didn’t look at him when he handed her a hot cup of lemon zinger.
“Tristan will take care of the sheriff and Gavin tomorrow.” Nate glared at Tristan as if that had some power over his actions. “Jaxen has a key to the office. He was there to do some work.”
“Good luck with that story, because according to the arrest report, Jaxen was caught in one of your model homes, not the office. And the only work being done was downing a bottle of bourbon while making out with Deidre Hall,” Tristan said to his father, then looked at Jaxen. “I bailed you out because Ruby was upset. My involvement ends there and I will explain that in detail to the sheriff and Gavin. Get in trouble again, and you’re on your own.”
Chapter 23
Nel’s ears rang from the incessant buzz of chatter. If anything was louder than a bunch of kindergartners on a field trip, it was a busload of teenagers.
Tristan and Carmen, the Outreach’s administrator, rounded up the mob, separating them into two groups. Boys and girls.
Moaning and bitching were in full swing.
Butterflies zipped around her stomach, diving and soaring in panic. She’d never dealt with teenagers. Throw in her inexperience with rafting and she felt a disaster was waiting to happen.
Tristan’s encouraging smile when she caught his attention kept her from bolting back into the bus and cowering behind the last seat.
Nel took a moment to settle her nerves. She’d survived a category-five hurricane. She could do this.
The soft roar of water in constant motion floated above the blended voices. The sun was bright but despite being summer, the air was slightly cool.
The outdoors smelled fresh, clean, invigorating, and it did nothing to quell her nervous stomach.
The rafting guides walked up to Tristan and Carmen. Soon they’d be getting the how-to and what-not-to-do speeches.
“Mary,” Nel said to the girl who’d whined the entire trip. “Put your phone away. You can’t have it out when we’re in the water.”
The teenager rolled her eyes. “I’m bored. Why don’t they have Wi-Fi here?”
“We’re not at an internet café.” Nel’s teacher voice held authority. “Put the phone away and don’t take it out again until we’re back on the bus.”
Once the safety training was completed, Carmen began separating the two groups into four and a very unhappy Tristan pulled Nel aside.
“There’s a problem with the larger rafts. We’re going to do this on four smaller ones.”
“And you’re worried because?”
“There will be one chaperone in each raft.” An aggravated sigh heaved Tristan’s chest. “We won’t be together, but there will be an experienced guide with you.”
Nel’s stomach dropped, but she swallowed her fear. None of the kids needed to witness her panic.
The rafting guides were professionals, probably rafting for most of their lives. She would likely be safer with them than on the I-75 in rush hour. “I’ll be fine.”
Tristan helped her put on the life vest. His gaze lingered on her skin like a tender caress. Emotion warred in his eyes. He didn’t want her to be alone. He’d promised to be by her side, to be watchful, to be her assurance.
She squeezed his hand. “This will be fun.”
He nodded, his smile tight.
Everyone lined up at the launch platform. Nel and her group of girls loaded into the raft in the positions assigned. Nel was in the back center and had a good view of all her kids.
She focused on them. Their safety was paramount, and none seemed too concerned that they were packed into a giant rubber float and were about to drift into a body of endless rushing water that had carved a path through the rock of the mountain.
The guide barked orders. Nel had to snap her girls to attention. Excitement rose as the raft launched. She felt like her ass scraped the rock bed as they started. Chatter ceased as the gentle ebb of the current hooked them, drawing them to the center of the flowing river.
Charmed by the Wolf Page 15
