by Liza Street
One year, when they were twenty-two, he’d proposed again on the shores of that lake. She’d just graduated from the little liberal arts school in Lakewood, and she was staying in her mom’s old house, waiting for it to sell. Her mom had already moved away. And Will had pulled into the driveway one afternoon and held up a six-pack of beer. Eleanor had rushed out to climb in his truck. He’d driven them to the lake and they’d sat on one of the large boulders jutting over the water.
“To friendship,” Will had said.
Eleanor had nodded. “Friendship.”
Then he’d given her a sly look. “And marriage?”
“Will!” she’d shouted, laughing. “I’m not drunk enough for that, yet. You saw what happened to my parents. Besides, we’re not even dating, you idiot.”
He laughed. “That’s what you think.”
She’d stared at him, bemused.
The last chord faded, and Eleanor looked up, surprised. “Summertime” was over, and now she was in the present, and confused as ever. She turned to Hayley and Summer and blinked back tears. “I don’t know what to do,” she said. “I don’t even know how to talk about this.”
Hayley and Summer both got up and came to sit on either side of the piano bench. “Scoot over,” Summer said. “My butt’s hanging off the side here.”
They’d crowded into Eleanor’s home, and her life, and they’d brought laughter and comfort and hugs. And whatever happened—or didn’t happen—with Will, Eleanor knew she’d finally found friendship.
Chapter Fourteen
Two days later, Will sat around a table in The A-Hole with Jackson, Summer, Hayley, and Marius. The couples were waiting for an architect to come by with some plans for their homes. What his siblings and their mates didn’t know, though, was that Will had contacted the architect privately, asking for a third set of plans.
That was right—he was going to stay in the Dark Pines territory. Hopefully with Eleanor at his side, if she’d have him.
Will had seen enough movies. He knew how this worked. Guy screws up. Guy explains his mistakes. Woman forgives him.
Could it work the same way in real life as it did in the movies? He didn’t know, but he had to find out. What he needed, though, was a good way to explain not just what had happened on Sunday, with him being ready to leave town, but what had happened four years ago.
He couldn’t explain it, not in a satisfactory way. Tell Eleanor there’d been a pride war between groups of shapeshifters? Yeah, no way.
A polished woman walked into The A-Hole. Her hair was back in a severe bun, and she wore a pair of black pants with a funky, geometric print tunic that hurt Will’s eyes. She carried a large roll of papers under one arm, and a massive handbag in the other.
“That’s the architect,” Hayley said with a little squeal. “Mabel, over here!”
The architect sidled over and shook hands with everyone, Will last. To him, she said, “It wasn’t easy coming up with options on such late notice.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Thanks for accommodating me.”
“What options?” Jackson asked, glaring at Will.
“For a third house,” Mabel said.
“Ohmygosh you smelly douche-nugget!” Hayley yelled, throwing her arms around Will.
Her hair tickled his nose, and he struggled out of her embrace. “What? You don’t want me to stay?” he asked.
His sister’s eyes were shining. “Of course I do, ass-wrinkle.”
Mabel quickly wiped the incredulous look from her face and spread the plans over the table. She walked them through three possible plans for each home, made with everyone’s ideas in mind. “It was rather a fun challenge to come up with a set of houses that are completely different but match in their own way. I think you’ll find you have some nice options, here.”
“We do,” Summer said, looking over at the architect. “Thank you so much.”
Will only had eyes for the plans in front of them. As excited as he was about staying in Huntwood and claiming the Dark Pines territory for his pride, he was equally terrified. Because everything had seemed free and easy throughout his life, up until four years ago. Then it seemed like he’d blinked, and everything was ripped away. Territory, mate, and even his ease of movement—his leg would never be the same.
Mabel shook hands again and took her leave, and the members of the Dark Pines Pride all looked around the table at each other.
“I can’t believe we’re really doing this,” Hayley said, bouncing in her seat.
Marius kissed her cheek and held up his pint glass. “To new homes and new beginnings.”
Everyone raised their glasses. Will raised his, too, although he hesitated. After they drank to their new beginnings, Will said, “Look, I know you don’t want to hear this, but I’ve got a bad feeling.”
“Bad feeling, how?” Jackson said.
Will took another sip of his drink. “It’s just a heavy feeling, in my gut—”
“Gas,” Hayley whispered, and Marius laughed.
Summer glared at both of them, although she was smirking, and motioned for Will to continue.
“That’s it,” Will said. “That’s all it is. A feeling.”
“We’ve got nothing to worry about,” Marius said. “I know for a fact all the Clausens are gone. Hayley defeated the Spokane Pride in the challenge. The Dark Pines territory is ours. I mean…yours.”
“It’s yours, too,” Will said. He’d never thought of himself as a leader or an alpha until that day two weeks ago when he’d announced to the enforcer, Gregorio, that he was the Dark Pride’s alpha. “You’re in the pride, Marius. You too, Summer. All five of us belong to each other, I want you to know that.”
“If we’re together,” Hayley said, “then we’ve got nothing to worry about.”
Will wished he could share her certainty.
They finished their drinks, paid their tab, and walked out of The A-Hole to go their separate ways. Will followed Summer and Jackson to their car, not knowing why. Only when they were safely inside it did he turn around and walk back to his truck. It struck him then—he’d followed them to protect them. Because this heavy feeling in his gut? It wasn’t gas; it was instincts. And those instincts were telling him to be fucking wary.
Chapter Fifteen
Eleanor glanced at the calendar after her last piano lesson of the day. It had been a full four days since Will had pressed her up against the wall and changed everything. He’d rocked her world, shook her up, disturbed the force, whatever the hell it could be called.
She was no longer the same.
He’d texted her a couple of times in the past four days, and called once. Each time, she’d texted back, Not yet. The man had worked on earning her love for ten years. Then he’d succeeded, and disappeared.
What would have happened in The Little Prince if the prince had returned to his fox?
Eleanor suspected that the fox would have been elated and everything would’ve picked up right where they’d left off, frolicking around and sharing philosophical aphorisms with each other.
But Eleanor wasn’t a freaking fox—she was a woman and she’d been burned.
Darkness had fallen outside, and it was dinnertime, the time of day Eleanor most often felt lonely. When her parents had split up, all their family dinners had come to an end. If she stayed with her dad, they ate pasta, salad, or stew for dinner. When she stayed with her mom, it was quesadillas, leftover pizza, or barbecue. But no matter what they’d eaten, they never ate together.
Fido twined around Eleanor’s ankles, making it darn near impossible to walk anywhere in the kitchen. Sighing, Eleanor emptied a can of food into his bowl, scratched him behind the ears, and then left him alone to eat.
That was it. She was sick of feeling sorry for herself. On Sunday night, she’d felt like she had friends again. Why the heck didn’t she call them? She grabbed her phone and found Hayley’s number.
“Calling about my lesson again?” Hayley asked.
&
nbsp; “No—although, we could do that,” Eleanor said. “But I was wondering what you’re doing tonight. Summer, too, if she’s free. I thought I’d order some pizza?”
“I’m there,” Hayley said in a rush.
Eleanor heard a male protest on Hayley’s end, but Hayley said, “Shush. I want pizza, and I’m gonna eat pizza. Stop babying me.” To Eleanor, she said, “Save me from my overbearing boyfriend. This dude will not leave me alone.” Then she snorted. “Overbearing. Get it?”
“No,” Eleanor said.
“Oh yeah. Well, anyway. Save me?”
“Yeah, come over,” Eleanor said. “Any special toppings I should order?”
“Canadian bacon and pineapple, but only if you promise not to judge me.”
Eleanor laughed. “Done. What does Summer like?”
“Pepperoni and olives.”
An hour later, Jaws was playing on Eleanor’s television, and the three women were talking over it except whenever the shark showed up.
“This is the only horror movie I’ll watch,” Eleanor said. “I’m too chicken for anything else.”
“Me, too,” Summer said. “Why aren’t we watching a Christmas movie instead?”
“No way,” Hayley said with a laugh. “I love horror. I’ll watch them all. They’re so unrealistic. Besides, Summer, you should see Jackson jump whenever there’s a scary part, the fraidy cat.”
“That might make it worth it,” Summer said. “Seeing a big old predator like him, freaking out over freaky clowns or kids crawling out of televisions…”
“Predator?” Eleanor asked.
“Oh, it’s just a weird nickname she has for him,” Hayley said, shooting Summer a quick look.
They stopped talking while the giant shark made its way into the lagoon. Eleanor felt her heart rate speed up. This was just a little too much excitement. If she were watching it alone, she’d be turning it off now.
“First time I watched this, I thought for sure everyone on that little boat thing was going to die,” Hayley said.
“I’m still mad about the little boy from the last scene,” Eleanor said. “The movie would be perfect without that.”
Summer reached over and gave Eleanor a high five. “Agreed.”
“So, Hayley said you guys got plans from the architect last night,” Eleanor said. “Summer, have you and Jackson picked which option you like the most?”
Summer laughed. “She gave us the poor man’s version, the moderately priced one, and the ‘hey we just won the lottery, let’s spend it all’ plan. Obviously we’re in love with the lottery house, but we’ll be happy no matter what the place looks like. And we’re really excited that all three houses are going to match.”
“Three?” Eleanor asked, looking between them. It was just Jackson and Summer, and Hayley and Marius.
“Oh, look,” Hayley said loudly, pointing at the screen. “It’s the part where Quinto gets into the pissing match with the researcher.”
Summer had definitely said, “all three houses,” and now Hayley was smirking even though she clearly didn’t want to talk about it.
Three houses. One for Hayley and Marius. One for Summer and Jackson. One for…Will?
If he was sticking around Huntwood, was it because of Eleanor? Something fluttered in her chest—something that felt a lot like hope.
Chapter Sixteen
Will waited in the darkness. The air felt like snow, although nothing had fallen yet. Just that quiet expectation. The temperature in the cab of his truck was dropping quickly, but he would wait as long as he had to.
The lights in Ellie’s house glowed with warmth, and he could hear the sounds of female conversation and laughter. Ellie sounded happy. He wanted that for her—her happiness. Her contentment.
After another hour or so, her front door opened and Summer and Hayley left the house. Ellie waved goodbye to them. Her feminine form looked soft and ravishable in a pair of leggings and a long, button-up shirt that fell gently over her curves. Her simple beauty nearly took his breath away. In all of his experiments with photography, his work with lines, angles, color, design, he’d never seen such perfection. When he created something, he was always looking for the “aha” feeling that he got from a perfect design. He rarely found it, because his clients rarely gave him enough time.
But without any effort at all, Ellie was a perfect design.
Once Summer and Hayley were safely in Hayley’s Bug and motoring down the street, Will got out of his truck and made his way to Ellie’s door. He rang the doorbell.
Ellie’s footsteps approached from the other side, and she called through the door, “You forgot your leftovers, didn’t you?”
“It’s Will,” he said.
Silence on the other side. Would she answer? He wanted to break down the door and make her listen to him, but that wasn’t his way. After a long moment, the door slowly opened.
Will stood before her, not sure what to say now that he was facing her. Instead, the scent of her—woman, hot chocolate, cinnamon—nearly knocked him over. Or rather, made him want to fall into her.
“I’m mad at you,” she said, standing in the doorway, all five feet and two inches of her trying to take up the entire frame.
Will raised his eyebrows. “I know.”
Huffing impatiently, Ellie turned around and walked back into the house, leaving the door open behind her.
“You have until I’m done getting ready for bed,” she said over her shoulder. Then she continued down the hallway, lifting her shirt over her head to reveal a black camisole underneath.
“I’m supposed to talk to you while you get ready for bed?” Will asked.
“I’m busy. Be happy with what I’m giving you.” Her head was still inside the blouse. “Crap.” She yanked on the fabric. “Stupid freaking buttons are caught in my stupid freaking hair.”
“Your hair is gorgeous,” he said, stepping forward. “Can I help?”
“Yeah, you would like to help undress me, wouldn’t you?” she asked, her voice angry.
“Yeah, I would.”
“I’m tired, Will. I feel old and tired.”
“I’m sorry.” He stepped forward and gently pulled her blouse down around her neck, so he could untangle the offending button from her hair. Those dark brown locks felt soft against his hands, and her scent was intoxicating. But beneath the feminine cinnamon and chocolate smell was something darker, more sorrowful.
“You’re sad,” he said.
She sighed. “You could always tell how I’m feeling.”
He freed her from the button, and helped lift the shirt over her head.
“Stay out here,” she said, frowning at him. “I’m going to take off my bra and get into comfy pants and a sweatshirt. You can talk through the door.”
He stayed in the hallway like she asked. She didn’t close her bedroom door, but he didn’t peer in and instead gave her the privacy she wanted. Just hearing clothes rustling was giving him ideas, but he mentally instructed his cock to calm the fuck down. His mate was sad, and if she wanted him to keep his distance, he would.
“So?” she said. “Are you going to talk, or what?”
“I don’t want to be away from you,” he said. “I’m not going to leave again.”
“Forgive me if I don’t exactly trust you right now.”
More rustling from inside her room. Quickly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the folded papers he’d brought with him. Straightening them out, he took a couple steps down the hallway and placed them on the bathroom counter where she’d be sure to see them soon. Maybe she didn’t want to talk, but he could at least show her, in his own way, how he felt.
She emerged from the room looking rumpled and soft and oh-so-cuddly in a pair of sweats and an old college sweatshirt that hung on her.
He couldn’t resist. Stepping forward, he pulled her into a hug. She nestled her head against his chest, even while saying, “I still don’t forgive you.”
“Fair enough.” He led
her to the living room and found the television remote control.
“So you’re just settling in now like you own the place?” she asked, staring up at him.
“Maybe. You complaining?” The overhead lights were too bright, so he looked around for the switch and turned them off.
She picked at the fraying wrist of her sweatshirt. “I guess not.”
He lay down on the couch and tugged her hand until she sat, leaning half against him.
“That’s not going to work,” he said. He found a couple of throw pillows and settled one beneath his head, then set the other next to him. “This is your spot.”
“What are we doing?”
He ignored her skeptical look and flipped channels until he found one of those nature shows that had all the beautiful cinematography. “We’re cuddling,” he said. “Or we will be, when you decide to cooperate.”
“I don’t know about this.” But she tilted over until she lay next to him, her back to his front, her curvy ass pressed against his groin.
He reached behind him for the throw blanket on the back of the couch and pulled it over them, making sure Ellie was all tucked in. She smelled so good, his Ellie. Holding her like this felt so right. She liked having her forehead rubbed, he remembered. When she was feeling tired or stressed, he’d move his thumbs in little circles above and between her eyebrows, and she’d just melt.
Tentatively, he reached over her and began to massage her forehead. She melted further into him.
“What’re we watching?” she asked sleepily.
“Animal show.”
“Like Jackson’s a predator?”
Will froze. “What?”
“Something Summer said. Hayley said it was a weird pet name. Hope I’m not breaking any confidences. Keep rubbing my forehead.”
She sounded sleepy and cuddly, not suspicious. Will resumed her little forehead massage.
