“Cool!” Isabel’s face lit like houses on fire, and then she scrunched her nose. “You should shower, Mama.”
“Gee, thanks.” Theresa laughed and headed inside.
****
A hard knock on the front door punctuated Zach’s arrival. Determined not to keep him waiting, Theresa hurried to answer it but Isabel beat her there. The little girl grabbed the handle even as her mother advised caution.
“Isabel, you can’t just open the door without looking.”
“It’s Zach.” Isabel jerked the door open. “See.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that…” Theresa said.
Zach finished her sentence. “You shouldn’t answer the door without finding out who it is first.”
Isabel pouted and held out her arms. “Hi, Zach.”
“Hello, darling.” Zach dropped to one knee and opened his left arm to accept the child’s hug. In his other, he held a brown grocery sack that crunched as he moved.
“I have a new dress.” Isabel stepped back and twirled for Zach so that the skirt of her yellow sundress flared about like the petals of a flower.
“Chiquita, you’re as pretty as a picture.”
“Thank you. Isn’t Mama pretty too?”
“Isabel!” Theresa blushed. She wore a white cotton sundress that flattered her tanned complexion and emphasized her curves without being too dressy. As much as she envied her daughter’s courage, there were times when she wished Isabel wasn’t quite so forthright. Yes, she had dressed up with the intention of impressing Zach. In fact, she had agonized over what to wear for him, but she didn’t want to make it obvious.
Zach grinned and showed teeth, doing an excellent impression of the Big Bad Wolf. “Your mama looks good enough to eat.”
“Oh you, stop.” Theresa hid her embarrassment while Isabel’s curious gaze flickered between the two adults.
“It’s nice to know that I rated new dresses from both of my girls.” Zach’s grin softened to a smile, but his eyes lingered on the low-cut bodice of Theresa’s dress in a way that caused her heart to beat with funny little palpitations. She sucked in a sharp breath that left her light-headed and her entire body energized beneath the caress of his blue eyes. She began to perspire and her gaze snared on those delicious male lips. It wasn’t fair what the man could do to her with just a look. She often fantasized about kissing him…a desire never far from her thoughts. His mouth was all she could think about—daydreaming about how he would feel and taste.
“What’s in the bag?” Theresa asked, seeking an easy escape from the inexplicable sexual tension crackling between them. She had no idea what had gotten into Zach to bring his blatant masculinity to bear on her. He had plenty of girlfriends…or so she suspected. He never brought other women around, but he had always treated her like a sister. He cracked jokes, but not of a sexual nature, and certainly not in front of Isabel.
“I brought over some rib eyes and potatoes and one of those salads in a bag. Oh, and a good cabernet sauvignon. I thought I’d cook for you.” His blue eyes were oh-so-serious, indicating that a lot more was going on than he was saying. Theresa knew him well enough to pick up on the subtle shift in his mood, and it threw her for a loop. With her wolf’s acute sense of smell, she detected aggression and excitement emanating from him.
Her mouth went dry. From ancient times, a male wolf provided a female with food when he intended to commence courtship. Of course, back then it might have been as simple as a dead rabbit laid at her feet. In modern times, the lines had become blurred, but the ritual lingered to the present day.
The steady regard in those remarkable eyes could not be mistaken—he wanted her.
“You’re going to cook for us,” Theresa said, just to be sure she’d heard right. Then, coward that she was, she arched her brow and went straight to skepticism. “Zach, you hate cooking.”
His eyes narrowed. For a second, she thought he’d insist on making an open declaration of his intentions and force her to either accept or reject him. In front of Isabel. Fear paralyzed her and, at the same time, she was furious with herself. Zach was everything she’d ever wanted. How could she throw that away?
Perhaps sensing her turmoil, Zach smiled and adopted a clownish air. “Not entirely. I know how to make mac ’n’ cheese.”
Isabel giggled. “The gross orange stuff from the box, not homemade like yours, Mama.”
“Hey, I resemble that remark!” Zach took a stab at Isabel’s side with his fingertip. That and his vehement protest sent the girl into a fresh round of laughter. The whole time, his eyes never changed. He watched Theresa with a knowing gaze that perceived far too much.
“Why don’t you let me make dinner?” Theresa’s motivations for offering to cook did more than ensure a palatable meal. It put them back on comfortable footing. She could continue to pretend that his gift of food meant nothing out of the ordinary, so long as he chose to allow it. No confrontations, no hard decisions.
“Are you sure?” From his tone, Zach wasn’t happy about being rebuffed, but, for the moment anyway, he seemed inclined to be cooperative.
“Oh, I’m sure.” She headed for the kitchen. “Besides, it’d be a shame to allow some beautiful rib eyes to be reduced to charcoal.”
“Hey!” Zach’s tone lacked any real heat. He followed her into the kitchen, but the prospect of food preparation failed to hold Isabel’s interest.
“I’m going to watch TV.” Isabel headed into the small family room, and then cartoon music blared in her wake.
Zak set the groceries on the counter and unpacked the food. His mood remained somber, further spooking Theresa. She knew better than to press him for an explanation. He’d tell her what was going on in his own time. For now, she concentrated on preparing dinner for them. She got a hot pan going to sear off the steaks and considered the potatoes.
“Are baked potatoes okay?” she asked.
“Baked potatoes sound fabulous.” Zach set the table while Theresa turned on the water and cleaned the potatoes.
Theresa jumped when Zach’s muscular chest brushed against her elbow, sending a jolt of awareness coursing through her entire body. She gasped and glanced up to find him standing beside her. He faced her, so her upper arm almost touched his breastbone. From the gleam in his blue eyes and his smirk, the contact had not been accidental.
“Has the landlord fixed the faucet yet?” Zach asked.
“Uhh.” She tried and failed to formulate a coherent thought, let alone a sentence. She trembled when his hand brushed across the nape of her neck, then stroked the juncture of her throat and shoulder. His hands were large and powerful, calloused across the palms and edges because he often performed mechanical tasks, but he had the graceful fingers of an artist. His short nails were always blunt and clean. She’d spent hours daydreaming about his hands creating just such erotic sensations as he stroked her exposed skin.
Water gushed from the faucet in a steady stream and passed over her hands. She dropped the vegetable brush and wasn’t able to focus well enough to pick it up again. Zach slid in even closer behind her so his face drew alongside hers. His proximity raised gooseflesh on her arms, and his heat radiated along her back and buttocks.
Zach exhaled so his breath blew across the sensitive side of her throat. The teasing caress stirred a dreadful, delicious aching between her thighs. Then, his steady voice interrupted her reverie again. “Theresa, is the faucet fixed yet?”
“N-no. It’s still leaking. I keep a bucket under the sink.” Theresa hit the faucet handle and shut the water off. She ducked to the right, beneath Zach’s arm, and he permitted her escape with an amused expression on his handsome face. He cocked his head, and he reminded her ever so much of a predator scenting prey. Of course, it was in his nature to relish a good hunt, so his reaction came as no surprise. What baffled her was why she seemed to be on Zachary Hunter’s radar all of the sudden.
Zach’s eyes narrowed and he licked his lips. His face was a study of pronoun
ced angles, his cheekbones sharpest of all. She got the distinct impression that she had escaped a showdown by just a hair. “I’ll take a look at it. Wrench still in the garage?”
Relief suffused her. “Would you like me to get it?”
“I can find the tools,” he said with a level stare.
She flushed, torn between confusion and frustration. Of course he knew where to locate the toolbox in the garage. The man performed all of her maintenance. Without him, the roof would have fallen down around their ears ages ago, no thanks to her miser of a landlord.
“Back in a sec,” Zach said. He didn’t strike her as being angry, merely determined and very…energetic. The backdoor shut behind him, as Theresa stared at his retreating back.
“What the hell has gotten into you, Zach?” she asked, but there were no ready solutions. She lacked the courage to put the question to his face. She wasn’t prepared for the answer.
With a sigh, Theresa tucked a stand of hair behind her ear and returned to cooking. She popped the clean potatoes into the microwave. She slammed cabinets closed and banged more than one pot in the process of preparing dinner. Self-recrimination ate at her. After years of longing for Zach’s attention, what had she done the second he paid it to her? She had frozen up and rejected him.
Zach returned with the toolbox. Theresa watched with a pensive gaze as he opened the cabinet to access the plumbing beneath the sink. “You ought to complain, Theresa. That lazy sod of a landlord never repairs anything around here.”
She mustered a smile even though it wasn’t sincere. “If I complain too much, he might decide to raise my rent. Then Isabel and I would have to move back in with my mother.”
“I like your mother.”
Theresa laughed. “And my mother adores you.”
He snorted. “Not so you’d notice. The woman never says more than two words to me.”
“Nonsense,” Theresa said. “She thinks you’re the cat’s meow.”
He shot a cocky grin her direction. “What about you?”
Theresa snickered. “You know I don’t like cats.”
“Oh, touché.” Zach grinned and tipped an imaginary hat to her.
Theresa breathed easier, knowing that their comfortable familiarity had been restored. There was nothing she feared more than losing his friendship.
He turned around to sit facing away from the sink, and then leaned back to get under it. His next words emerged somewhat muffled. “Did you speak with your mum about me picking up Isabel on Monday?”
His upper body disappeared beneath the sink, leaving his six-pack abs, bunched beneath a white shirt, and long legs exposed. Skin-tight denim cupped the impressive bulge at the crotch of his jeans and clung to the corded muscles of his thighs and calves. Her mouth watered as she gazed down upon him, her eyes coveted the rippling muscles, and she got wet contemplating what lay beneath the layer of fabric. Her fingers itched to rip open that row of three buttons, to cradle his swollen shaft in her palm, to taste the salt of his skin on her tongue.
“Are you still there, love?” His voice prodded her from under the sink.
Theresa gulped and nodded even though he couldn’t see the gesture. “I’ve called the school principal and Isabel’s teacher to let them know you’ll be picking her up. My mom said to tell you that she’ll meet you at the park by five at the latest. Does that work for you?”
“Sounds good. I think I can survive a couple hours alone with the munchkin.” Zach clanked around under the sink a bit more and then grunted. “Well, there’s your problem.”
“Can you fix it?”
He scoffed. “Am I not a debonair hero?”
“Of course, but no one said anything about you being Mr. Fixit.”
“Oh, you wound me.” His hand pantomimed an injury to his heart.
She laughed. “You’re such a ham.”
“You’re going to eat those words when I fix this leak.”
She laughed. “I’d rather eat this steak.”
“I’m all for that, love.”
Theresa stepped over his long legs as Zach clanked and cursed his way through the repair. She continued to prepare dinner. They traded a few snarky comments regarding his plumbing skills, but eventually he slid out from under the sink. He flashed a triumphant grin and rolled to his feet with a smooth motion. “There you go, as good as new.”
“My hero. Whatever would I do without you?” Theresa fluttered her lashes and held her hands together, mimicking a grateful maiden.
Zach arched his brow. “Hire a plumber?”
Theresa shooed him. “Go wash up. I’ll call Isabel.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He went easily enough, heading down the hallway to the downstairs bathroom. Theresa passed through the dining room and into the small family room where Isabel sat on the couch in front of the television watching cartoons.
“Sweetie, dinner time. Turn off the TV.”
Isabel slid from the sofa and did as instructed. “Is Zach staying for dinner?”
“Of course.” She waited until Isabel passed in front of her and then followed. “Why wouldn’t he?”
“No reason.” Isabel stopped to gaze up her mother. “Is Zach your boyfriend now, Mama?”
Theresa felt her jaw drop. Out of the mouth of babes… Confusion tumbled through her mind—denial or confirmation. What should she say? What did she really know?
She cleared her throat. “No, baby, we’re not dating. Why do you ask?”
“Because he acts like your boyfriend, but you don’t ever kiss. Daddy kisses Tammy all the time.”
Her daughter’s dark, penetrating gaze sent Theresa mentally scrambling. On impulse, she crafted a lie, a little white one, to direct her daughter from the sensitive topic. “Zach and Mommy are just friends, Isabel. I don’t think of Zach like that.”
Too late, a slight movement behind Theresa alerted her to Zach’s presence. Turning to the side, he slid past her into the room moving with lithe grace while avoiding even accidental contact. Theresa couldn’t see his face, but her throat closed and a hand crushed her heart.
“Come on, chiquita, let’s go get some of that delicious food your mom made and talk about what we’re going to do tomorrow after school.”
Distracted, Isabel followed him into the kitchen. The child chattered up a storm since she had the attention of her favorite audience. Theresa remained rooted in the hallway. Damn, damn, damn… Zach possessed excellent vocal control, but she knew him too well to be fooled.
She’d hurt his feelings.
****
Zach shot a quick look down the table toward Theresa, who appeared to be absorbed in her food to the exclusion of all else. She looked up, but only at Isabel, and avoided eye contact with him. His casual flirting seemed to have driven her into retreat. She hadn’t been so closed off to him since they’d first met three years before. He had waited for Theresa to come to him, but the changing political climate of the pack made that a luxury he could no longer afford.
Zach shoved his percolating frustration aside and focused his attention on Isabel. The child possessed none of her mother’s innate shyness. He chose the one topic sure to get her going. “How are your fairy friends doing?”
Isabel perked up. A bright smile lit up her face. “There’s a new fairy in the garden.”
“Is there now?” Zach regarded the girl with renewed interest. New characters seldom joined the troupe of Isabel’s imaginary coterie of fairy friends.
“Yep.” Isabel speared a piece of steak with her fork and inspected it. As always, she nibbled at her food, but moved more of it around with her fork than she actually ate.
Theresa leaned forward and shot her daughter the look. “Isabel, eat your food, please.”
“What’s she called?” Zach slowed the pace of his own eating to match Theresa and Isabel. As a bachelor, he tended to eat at whatever speed suited him. A delicious, home-cooked meal and a full moon less than a week in the offing magnified his hunger.
“He,” Is
abel said. “The new fairy is a boy, and his name is Talyn Drake.”
Zach’s brow rose. “Drake means dragon.”
He drew an interested look from both women. Finally, he had Theresa’s attention again.
“Really?” Isabel asked with big eyes.
He nodded. “Really.”
“Does this Talyn look like a dragon?” Theresa directed the question to her daughter.
“Maybe,” Isabel said with a small shake of her head. “He looks like one but he’s very small.” The girl held up her hands, palms twelve inches apart, to demonstrate what she meant.
“Is he nice?” Zach asked because the character of the girl’s imaginary friend struck him as more important than the dimensions.
“Sometimes he’s mean and makes messes and hogs all of the honey. Nikki doesn’t like him.”
Nikki was Isabel’s best friend, a bright yellow flower fairy with wings like a daffodil. Zach knew the cast of the girl’s stories well. He took a sip of his water and turned his bold gaze toward Theresa once again. She looked gorgeous with her dark hair curling about her face and shoulders. Summer had darkened her complexion to a warm golden brown.
“If he’s mean, then why do you play with him?” Theresa asked.
“Sometimes he’s nice, but other times he’s toothy and…” Isabel trailed off, frowning. “What’s that word, Zach?”
“Greasy?”
“No.”
“Greedy?”
“Nuh-uh.” Isabel shook her head.
“Expand on what you mean. Toothy as in a wolf or toothy as in a shark,” Zach said, staring at Theresa. His sweet little she-wolf looked good enough to eat.
Just then, Theresa stole a nervous glance at Zach. When she caught him staring at her, she flushed and dropped her gaze. The musky scent of her arousal reached his nostrils and he breathed deep to confirm the aroma. Zach’s eyes narrowed and he experienced a surge of satisfaction. His cock hardened in reaction, balls tightening.
Like hell she didn’t find him attractive.
The Mating Game Page 4
