by Wood, Vivian
So he really was here. Her heart skipped a beat as she cut the car’s engine and stepped out, pulling in a big breath of the sweet, clean country air. It was early June, and the summer heat was really beginning to blossom now. Still, she shivered as she pulled her luggage from the back seat, trying not to drag her feet as she climbed the front steps.
She found the front door unlocked and swung it wide, cringing a little at the loud squeak it emitted. The door banged open as she stepped into the kitchen, and she couldn’t help but smile. The kitchen was a relic, a perfect snapshot of ranch life in the 1950’s. The room was done in a pretty, light yellow, with neat white cabinets and an ivory stove and refrigerator that were as antique as the house itself. A big white table took up most of the room, surrounded by a dozen chairs. It had been the site of many late-night, coffee-fueled meetings when the team had stayed here last.
Closing the door, Kiley looked around. The house was silent, almost alarmingly so. If she’d expected Garrett to charge out from the living room or hallway, she was to be disappointed. Of course, he wouldn’t be here. He’d be out back, enjoying the house’s only modern addition.
Kiley left her bags on the table, heading through the big living room and down the back hall. She stopped short at the back door, peering out the glass window. For a moment, she thought she’d guessed wrong, that the back yard was empty. A cluster of lounge chairs sat empty near the pool, and the water’s clear blue surface was unbroken. She waited for several seconds, holding her breath, before he surfaced.
Garrett burst from the water, grabbing the side and pushing himself up to get out of the pool. Kiley found that she couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but admire his sleek form. He climbed out in a graceful motion, six and a quarter feet of rippling muscle. He wore nothing but a pair of simple white boxers that clung to his body, showcasing his muscular thighs and perfectly shaped ass. His back and shoulders were a work of art, honed by moonlight runs in his wolf form and hours at the weight rack.
He shook the water from his body, a distinctly canine movement, and Kiley caught herself drooling a little bit. He turned and walked to the lounge chairs, giving her ample time to scope out the rest of him. Close cropped blond hair, just the color of his tawny wolf. High, proud cheekbones, a finely-carved jaw, and a strong, stubborn nose. Brilliantly blue eyes rimmed in dark lashes, coupled with dark, expressive eyebrows. Arms, chest, and incredible abs, all like something from Kiley’s most illicit fantasies.
Damn, but the male was delicious-looking. He scowled to himself, looking around the back yard as if he could sense her presence. He picked up a familiar-looking green glass bottle and uncorked it, taking a long pull, and another. Jameson whisky, it looked like.
Kiley frowned. She’d never known Garrett to drink much except to celebrate the end of a mission. Yet here he was, completely alone, drinking warm whisky in the middle of the day. He looked around again and Kiley drew back from the window, not ready to face him just yet. She’d come all this way just to see him, and she wanted the moment to be right.
She waited until she heard the splash of Garrett diving back into the water before she slipped off her shoes, opened the door, and tiptoed outside. She walked right to the edge of the pool, looking down at him as he swam the length of it. When he came back up he whirled, his glare quickly replaced by a look of shock. His eyes on her body made her shiver, made her feel like she wore much less than the short blue cotton dress she had on. She felt bare to him, just as she always did.
“What in the fuck are you doing here?” he snapped, surprise and anger warring on his face. From this brief distance, her keen senses picked up the sharp tang of the whisky, and his natural scent was erased by the pool’s salt water. Kiley was surprised at how much she longed to rediscover his scent, bury her face in his neck as he held her close.
“I’ve been looking for you, Garrett,” she said, cocking her head. She didn’t want to crowd him or overwhelm him, so she played it cool, dropping her gaze and dipping the bare toes of one foot into the pool’s wet warmth.
“Funny, I would figure you’d been too busy planning the rest of your life with Brad,” he said, those blue eyes burning into her, accusing her. Kiley watched him closely, saw him searching for signs that she’d taken a mate. A mark, a tattoo, a ring. Of course, she knew he would find nothing, but she guessed that lack of a true marking wouldn’t be enough for him. Garrett honored the ideals of mateship, and he would never lay a hand on her unless she spelled it out for him.
She licked her lips, trying to keep herself calm and collected.
“Elijah called. He said you needed a contact for your mission,” she said, shading her eyes against the bright sun.
Garrett laughed. It was a cruel sound, and it gave her goosebumps.
“What mission?” he asked. “I can’t imagine what he had to have dangled in front of you to get you out here now, this close to your mating ceremony. Isn’t it just a couple of weeks away?”
Kiley shook her head.
“There’s no ceremony. It was set for several weeks ago, but it never happened.”
Garrett’s brows shot up.
“Why not?”
“We parted ways,” Kiley sighed.
“What about your sister?”
Kiley snorted, rolling her eyes.
“Brad parted ways with me, in favor of Amerie. They eloped together, if you would believe it. Left in the middle of the night, just snuck out and left a note on the kitchen counter. Apparently they fell in love, and they thought it was better to leave me out of the equation.”
Garrett stood, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. Kiley looked at him for a long time, waiting for his response. When he said nothing, she tried a different tack.
“So the mission? With the abducted females?” she prompted.
Garret scowled.
“I was kicked off that mission a month ago. Elijah gave me the choice between vacation and forced leave. Not much of a choice,” Garrett grunted.
“Elijah doesn’t do anything out of the blue. What happened before he forced you to take vacation?”
Garrett shrugged, but Kiley knew better. He’d done something bad, probably beat the crap out of a suspect or destroyed something valuable out of spite.
“What does it matter?” he asked. “Sorry you had to come all the way out here, but now you can turn right around and go back to… wherever.”
“No, I don’t think I can.”
He gave her a sharp look, eyes blazing.
“I’m sorry?” he asked.
“There’s nothing for me to go back to.”
With that, she sauntered over to the chaise lounge, grasping the hem of the dress and dragging it upward. She could feel Garrett’s gaze on her ass, taking in the skimpy black panties she wore. Where sex and nudity always made her shy and overly modest, with Garrett watching she felt bolder. She pulled the dress up over her head and dropped it to the ground, revealing her black and white lace bra.
When she turned, Garrett’s expression nearly knocked the air from her lungs. Anger, longing, and lust mixed there, his jaw so tense and eyes so bright that they nearly made her blind. Her body moved of its own volition, bringing her to stand at the pool’s edge once more, letting him look his fill before she took the first step down into the pool, submerging her feet.
“Kiley…” he said. Garrett seemed so conflicted, and her heart squeezed at the sadness and anger in his expression.
She pushed on, sinking into the warm salt water as she descended the steps. Garrett’s uncertainty made her want to run away and hide herself, but the raw hunger in his eyes pulled her toward him. She knew him, understood what that desire meant. Garrett was a man of honor, and if he’d forsaken her altogether, his lust for her would have vanished. Even if there was just a tiny window left open in his soul, Kiley was going to use it.
She waded a few steps in, until the water brushed the bottoms of her breasts. Garrett stood by the side of the p
ool, elbows resting on the side as he watched her. He’d never seemed more wolflike to her than in that moment, his eyes tracking her in a way that was purely predatory, calculating, starving and yet skittish.
She moved until she stood before him, just inches from touching him. Garrett towered over her, his body tense and eyes crackling. He opened his mouth to say something, to tell her something she wasn’t willing to hear.
Kiley silenced him, reaching out to him. A rumble issued from deep in his chest, a warning to her about the danger she was in, or perhaps an expression of his desire. She couldn’t tell, didn’t care.
“Garrett, let me touch you,” she whispered, slipping her arms around his shoulders and lacing her fingers against the warm muscle of his neck. He was stock still, his upper lip rising to bare his perfectly white teeth. His entire body shook under her touch, and she could feel the power he was pouring into holding himself back. She appreciated it, but she also didn’t want his restraint. She wanted him to touch her, and if he was rough and wild, so be it. She wanted him any way she could have him.
His eyes closed as she moved closer, pressing her body in against him. Her breasts brushed his chest, his knees bumped her thighs. He was all silk and steel, smooth skin over perfectly-honed muscle, his big body making her feel delicate and safe at the same time. She reached up and ran her fingers through his short golden hair, reveling at the softness of it. How many times had she imagined doing just this, touching him like this?
He growled again, his eyes opening as he tried to rear back, to pull away from her intimate touch. Rather than retreat, though, Kiley surged forward and brushed her lips over his. His eyes widened, and they were so close that she could see his pupils dilate. She traced her tongue over his bottom lip, feeling the firm warmth of it, her hands angling his head to her advantage.
She kissed him fully, lips pressing hard to his, her fingers tightening at his neck. She tasted the sweet fire of the whisky he’d been drinking, tasted him, too. The clean, strong, masculine flavor of him, one she remembered clearly from their first kiss.
He didn’t resist, but neither did he respond. He let her explore him with her lips, seeming almost curious. When she pressed her hips to his, though, she could feel the rigid length of his erection, and she knew he couldn’t remain still for long. Garrett needed to lead, to dominate, to take. She just had to incite his passion, to bring him past his reticence, and he wouldn’t be able to resist the temptation she presented.
Kiley brought her knees up in the water, pushing against the wall for leverage as she wrapped her legs around his body. His mouth opened, giving her access, and she flicked her tongue between his lips in a teasing move. He growled again, his body shifting in her hold, and she pulled back to look at him.
“Garrett, I’m yours. I waited for you this whole time. Take me!” she demanded.
His eyes flashed a dazzling, electric blue a second before he moved, his arms circling her body to grip her hips.
“You are playing with fire, Kiley,” he gritted out, his thumbs digging into her hip bones.
“I’m not playing anymore,” she replied.
Kiley leaned forward and kissed him again, ignoring Garrett’s near-painful grip. He ground his erection against her belly, his lips moving against hers as he groaned into her mouth. In a flash, Garrett moved. His hands came up and pushed at her shoulders, shoved her a whole foot back through the water.
His breathing ragged, Garrett turned and vaulted out of the pool. He kept moving, pushing down his boxers as he went. Kiley got a nice long glimpse of his bare ass as he tilted downward, shifting into his wolf in one fluid motion. His wolf burst out, head to tail, and when his paws hit the ground he took off at a flat-out sprint. There was nothing out here for miles and miles but a broad, grassy plain. With the exception of a few clusters of cacti and some thickets of overgrown wild grasses, there was nothing to run to except the mountains way off in the distance. Running away from her would be pointless, because there was nothing else around.
Kiley dragged herself out of the pool and stood up, watching as he ran, kicking huge clouds of faded orange dust high in the sky. The dust trail rose against the afternoon sun, and after a while he dropped out of sight, obscured by a dip in the landscape. She sighed and turned to go back inside, scooping up her clothes and the bottle of whisky he’d left behind.
She dragged all her luggage into a bedroom on the first floor, choosing the one right next to Garrett’s. She changed first, pulling on a white and pink bra and panty set and then a tight pastel pink sheath dress that she knew would catch Garrett’s eye. She laid her wet lingerie over a chair to dry. Then she went into the kitchen, got herself a glass of ice, and poured some of Garrett’s Jameson into the glass. Taking a sip, she winced as it burned all the way down into her stomach. Still, the drink made her feel steadier, and she kept sipping as she explored the house.
She checked the fridge first. A few bottles of locally-brewed India Pale Ale were inside, and the makings for sandwiches. The pantry boasted little more than salt and old-fashioned oats. Since their kind needed to eat quite a bit, the lack of food in the house made Kiley wonder how long Garrett had been staying here, and how long he’d planned to stay. He’d mentioned being on a forced vacation, but not the length of time involved.
She opened the door to the bedroom she thought of as his, the same one he’d occupied when the team had stayed here last. Sure enough, he was sleeping there. Though the bed was neatly made and the dresser drawers closed, she could smell him in here. His favorite comforter lay on the bed, and the stack of books on the bedside table screamed Garrett Kiern. Master and Commander, Walden, Coriolanus, The Farmer’s Almanac.
She smiled, wanting nothing so much as to go in and lay down on his bed, roll around in his clean scent and nuzzle his pillow. But Garrett was fiercely private and possessive of the few things he owned. She knew he wouldn’t appreciate her intrusion on her space right now.
Finishing her drink, she headed back to the kitchen and rinsed the glass. She noticed that Garrett had used and washed one plate, one fork, one spoon, and one knife. One pot, one frying pan. They gleamed on the drying rack where Kiley had found the glass, and she set it back in its rightful place.
She moved to the kitchen table, fingering a stack of papers that lay out. She knew she was being nosy, but she rifled through them. She gasped aloud when she found the deed to the house among the papers, a brand new document made out in Garrett’s name, dated two months past. He’d cared enough about the place to buy it, but not enough to bother moving the deed somewhere safe. Then again, there was no one else around for miles. Maybe he just hadn’t thought the precaution necessary.
She snorted. Garrett was the biggest boy scout she’d ever met, prepared for anything. He must feel truly safe here if he hadn’t moved his financial paperwork into the gun safe she was certain he had hidden under his bed. She hadn’t gone into his bedroom far enough to look, but she was certain that his guns were here in the house. He was rarely farther than a few feet from being armed to the teeth.
Though the whisky warmed her stomach, Kiley started to fret. She went into the living room, sinking onto the overstuffed grey couch. It sat next to a broad bay window that overlooked the Montana wilderness. The flight and drive out here had been long, and anxiety over Garrett’s reaction plucked at her nerves.
He’d come back eventually, of course, but she had no idea what would happen then. He might reject her again, yell at her, demand that she leave. Garrett was exceptionally stubborn, and too close-mouthed to tell her why he was so upset. She wasn’t naive, she knew that choosing Brad to save her sister had hurt Garrett. Maybe some little part of her had hoped that he’d accept her back, arms wide open, transgressions forgiven, but she wasn’t an idiot. She’d known that his current state was a much more likely reaction.
Maybe he just needed to run off some of his tension and anger. Maybe when he came back he’d be calm and collected and ready to talk.
Kiley leaned back, letting her body sink into the couch. She meditated for a few minutes, breathing deep and trying to relax. Just when she’d made a bit of progress the back door slammed, making her jump. Garrett’s footsteps thundered down the back hallway, heading to his room.
She heard him stop in the hall and sniff the air, then growl and slam into the bathroom. The shower turned on, and Kiley waited patiently for him to come to her. He took his sweet time in the bathroom, killing all the nice dry air conditioning in the house when he opened the door and let out all the steam.
She expected Garret to go into his room and dally for a while, building up what he wanted to say as he got dressed. To her surprise, he came straight from the bathroom, filling up the doorway between the hall living room. Kiley swallowed when she saw him. He leaned against the wall, wearing nothing but a thick white towel, wrapped low on his muscular hips. He was a tower of thick, tanned muscle and she wanted to stop time for a while, take in all that rippling and effortless masculinity, but when she saw her face she forgot all about it.
His expression was granite-hard, his sky-blue eyes snapping with a mixture of emotions she could barely identify. Lust, anger, confusion… it was all there, but she didn’t have time to sort it all out. Garrett crossed his arms and looked her up and down, his gaze appraising.
“You’re still here,” he said at last.
“I am,” Kiley said. She blushed at the simplicity of her response, but what more could she say?
“You’re staying, I take it?” he said. His tone was light, as if her answer was unimportant, but something told her that wasn’t true.
“I’m staying,” she replied.
His eyes narrowed, as if calculating. Pushing away from the wall, he started toward the couch.
“This doesn’t mean anything,” he warned her.
“My staying here?” she asked, confused.
“No. This,” he said, pulling the towel from his hips and tossing it aside.
Kiley’s jaw dropped as he approached.
