Runaway (Fox Ridge Shifters Book 1)

by Marianne Hull

  Luke responded in kind, turning her to press her back against the wall, and all doubts and worries fled before the rising tide of her passion.

  ###

  “Crissy,” he murmured. “Shall we continue the tour?”

  She whimpered and clutched him tighter, her lips insistent. They kissed on, his hands now involved in finding the curve of her bottom. He rubbed his throbbing cock against her, and she responded by wrapping a leg around his, her hips moving.

  “I was thinking,” he said when they came up for air, “of showing you the upstairs. Where, you know, I have a bedroom?”

  She frowned. “Do you have condoms?”

  “Ever the practical one. I do, but it’s been a while. Do they expire?”

  “I don’t know, but we’d better not take any chances.”

  The thought of a pregnant Crissy, of spilling his seed inside her, shot a wave of pleasure into his loins. He kissed her again, insistently this time.

  She gasped. “I have some in my purse.”

  “Let’s go.”

  Luke pulled her from the office and steered her toward the stairs. He paused to grab her purse and overnight bag he had left on the bottom step. Hugh still reclined before the fire, and he laughed as they thudded up to the second floor. For a brief moment Luke surveyed his bedroom, taking in the overflowing basket of dirty laundry. At least he’d made the bed, and the sheets were fairly fresh. He stared into Crissy’s bright eyes and decided he didn’t care.

  After she dug in her purse and removed a strip of condoms, they stood in the center of the room, suddenly shy. “I want to remember this,” he said.

  Crissy tugged on his shirt to pull him closer. “First we kiss.” Long and sweet, it took his breath away.

  “Now I unbutton your shirt.”

  He chuckled. “I would rather rip off yours.”

  “We’ll probably get there.” The buttons of his plaid flannel shirt yielded to her deft fingers one by one. He responded by tugging her silky blouse from the waistband of her jeans. When she finished, her hands caressed his chest, and he slid his hands up under the fabric of her blouse to rub against the soft skin of her back. His erection had subsided, still there, but not as insistent.

  They kissed more and explored each other. He couldn’t take it anymore and yanked her blouse over her head before reaching behind her back to unhook her bra. She laughed, unbuckled his belt, and unzipped his jeans. His cock throbbed and tented his boxers.

  “A boxer guy.” She pulled him free and ran her hand down its length.

  “Okay, I’m done.” He yanked down his jeans and boxers, and somehow managed to pull them off over his boots.

  Crissy giggled. “You’re standing here naked in your boots.”

  He sat on the bed to unlace them. “Get naked, woman.”

  “That’s your job.” She stepped between his knees, and he abandoned the boots to remove her jeans, leaving her in lacy pink underwear that matched the bra now on the floor. She pulled them down, kicked off her shoes and stood before him.

  “Gosh, you’re perfect.” He cupped her breast, caressing it with his thumb, and suckled the nipple. She moaned deep in her throat, body arching toward him, and he responded by pulling her down onto the bed beside him.

  “Um, Luke? Your boots are still on.”

  “Damn.” He finished unlacing them. Crissy moved to lie fully on the bed, and he lay on his side, partially covering her.

  “I knew you’d be fun in bed,” she said.

  “You thought about what I’d be like in bed?” That pleased him.

  She rolled her eyes. “Oh, maybe once. Or twice. Well, maybe several times a day.” She turned serious. “Make love to me, Luke.”

  They made love slowly, tenderly, until their passion peaked, and they both found their shattering release.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  They lay spooned together on top of Luke’s plain blue comforter. His warmth made blankets unnecessary. By the sound of his breathing, she could tell he was drifting off. Crissy never slept with the men she had sex with. Ever. It needed a level of trust she thought she might be incapable of, even with this sweet, sweet man.

  What have I done? It had come on so fast. Too fast. She’d jumped into bed with him without any forethought. She’d wanted him like no man she ever knew, and she possessed no words for how shattering the sex was. It surpassed anything she ever experienced. Sweet and exquisitely tender, it still had a height of passion she hadn’t known was possible.

  What have I done? In a few months she would be forced to flee. Or she could be dead. Death at Sean’s hands always had loomed in her future, but she’d been so preoccupied with survival, she had little time to give it much thought. Not only her hopes of having her own business would be defeated, she would never have a wedding or know the joy of holding a baby in her arms. Wrapped in Luke’s strong arms, the thought of never having these things filled her with a crushing sense of loss.

  He might be able to help. The idea gave her about two seconds of hope until she remembered she would have to tell him the truth. Even if he continued to want her, he’d never think of her in the same way again. He would never respect her.

  She sat up and wrapped her arms around her raised knees.

  “What’s wrong, Liebling?” Luke placed a hand on her calf.

  The cord transferred feelings, and if she could feel his, he could feel hers as well. There was no sense in lying to him.

  “I’d rather not talk about it right now.”

  He exhaled and sat up. “You can tell me anything.”

  “Not this.”

  “Did I do something wrong?”

  She leaned into his embrace. “You know you didn’t. It was the most perfect thing I’ve ever experienced.”

  “Then why are you so sad?”

  She didn’t answer. A knock on the door rescued her.

  “What?” Luke said, irritated.

  “Hey, lovebirds, dinner is ready in about fifteen,” Connie called through the door. “Neal says set the table, please. We’re exhausted from cooking for you.”

  Luke frowned but released Crissy. “Ja, sure.”

  They dressed quickly. When Crissy tried to drag a brush through her hair, Luke insisted upon doing it. No one had brushed her hair for her since Nana, and she reveled in the sensation.

  In the front room, Luke headed for the hutch and piled dishes into Crissy’s arms.

  “These look old,” she said. “And they don’t seem like something a guy would purchase.”

  “Connie’s daughter, Valerie, bought them long ago. Neal loves them. We use them every holiday.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “She moved away. She is a witch with ambitions. Very powerful.” He smiled. “Like you.”

  “Not a witch.”

  “Right.”

  They set the table, all five place settings on one end, without matching the dishes, making a bright, cheerful hodge-podge of colors. Neal, Connie, and Hugh brought the platters of food, and they didn’t wait to dive in. She discovered Neal was not a vegetarian after all, although he only took a little bit of turkey. Everyone, including her, ate until they were stuffed. The four shifters told stories and reminisced about times past, laughing and joking. Somehow they did this without making Crissy feel left out.

  After the meal, Luke and Crissy cleared the table and washed the dishes. “It’s my chore,” he explained. “I really can’t cook, so I clean up.”

  For a few hours, they watched football while they digested their enormous meal. Crissy discovered the recliners were as comfortable as they appeared. At seven, they returned to the kitchen for poker. From atop the refrigerator, Neal took a big old coffee can filled to the brim with pennies and a notepad. “Everyone take fifty,” he said.

  “You play for pennies?”

  Connie grabbed a handful of pennies from the can. “Not just pennies. You’ll see.”

  “God, I hope it’s not clothing.” She shared a sly glance wit
h Luke, and they both snickered.

  “Keep it clean, you two,” Neal said.

  Hugh took a big handful of pennies and carefully counted them into stacks of five with their edges squared. Luke was right. Neat freak.

  “Who deals first?” Luke asked.

  Connie’s coins lay in a haphazard pile in front of her. She was short enough she had to stand up a little to reach the can and drop the extras in. “Let Hugh deal. Might as well get it over with.”

  “Yeah, you’re right,” Neal said.

  Whatever that meant, Hugh merely smiled a little and took up the deck of cards to shuffle them.

  “What are we playing?” Crissy asked.

  “Five-card draw,” Luke said.

  “Okay. I know that.” Her dad taught her poker, and she actually was pretty good at it, but she would keep that secret for now.

  Everyone had their pennies, the cards were shuffled, and Neal said, “Let’s start, Hugh.”

  Hugh dealt with painstaking precision. “One, two, three, four, five. Two, two, three, four, five...”

  Connie snatched up her cards the second they were laid down. “Step it up, Hugh.”

  Neal, on the other hand, took each card, glanced at it, and laid it face-down on the table before him.

  “He only looks at his cards once,” Luke said. “Thinks he’s some kind of genius.”

  “Is he?” Crissy asked.

  “I think he cheats,” Luke said.

  “I don’t cheat,” Neal said without taking his eyes off of the card in his hand. He laid it face down beside the others.

  “Connie,” Crissy said. “What’s that short for?”

  Connie pursed her lips but said, “Concetta.”

  “That’s pretty.”

  Hugh chuckled.

  “What?” Crissy said.

  Connie clutched her cards against her chest. “It stands for conception.” She waved a hand. “It was the nineteenth century and my parents were devout.”

  “Well, if it bothers you, no one needs to know what it’s short for,” Crissy said, frowning at Hugh.

  Hugh continued to deal, unperturbed. “When she’s being obnoxious we call her contraception.”

  “We do not,” Luke said. “Only you.” Connie sat to his right, at the head of the table, and he reached out and patted her on the back. She swatted his hand away.

  Crissy still had questions. “Where are you from, Hugh? You sound British.”

  He held up one finger and dealt out the last of the cards, then said, “London. I was born on Bastille Day. The first Bastille Day.”

  Crissy frowned, trying to remember her high school history lessons.

  “July 14, 1789,” Hugh said.

  “And you live here, too?”

  “I live on a farm I’m trying to acquire, but I sleep here sometimes when it’s too cold or hot to sleep in the trailer.”

  “Trailer?”

  “Yeah, long story.”

  Play began, and after an hour Crissy was up by twenty-five pennies, as was Neal.

  “It’s not fair,” Connie said. “We haven’t been playing with her long enough. We don’t know her tells.”

  “How can the game be any fun if you all know your tells?”

  “Not Neal’s,” Hugh said. “Or mine.”

  “Yeah,” Luke said. “You smile the same smile at everything.”

  “Give me two,” Neal said, picking up two cards from the row in front of him, seemingly at random. Crissy learned there was nothing random about it. “Connie and Luke, on the other hand, are two open books.”

  He smiled a little, fondly, at Connie and Luke, and Crissy realized she had yet to see him laugh or smile with his whole face. He was a gorgeous man, with dark hair and the same blue eyes as Luke but with leaner, sharper features. She would wager real money his smile would be devastating, because even a small one gave him an irresistible warmth.

  A twinge of jealousy traveled along the cord. She kissed Luke’s cheek.

  Half an hour later, Connie ran out of coins.

  “Now the real fun begins,” Luke said.

  Neal picked up the pad at his elbow. “Let’s see. My Mercedes needs to be washed.”

  “I’ll do it for twenty-five,” Connie said.

  Hugh scoffed. “Don’t give her any more than ten.”

  “I’d give you forty if you detail the inside as well.” Neal smiled a little. “You would have to clean the air ducts with a Q-tip.”

  “Anything else?” Connie asked.

  “I need my laundry done,” Luke said.

  “Thirty,” Connie said.

  “Thirty?” Luke said. “For laundry?”

  “I’ve washed your underwear before, and you let it pile up until there’s at least two loads,” Connie said. “Definitely thirty.”

  “Twenty-five if you also sort and fold it,” Neal said. “And that’s final.”

  Connie narrowed her eyes at Luke. “Deal.”

  Neal took up a pen and wrote on the notepad Connie to do Luke’s laundry, and handed her the coffee can.

  “How’d you come up with this scheme?” Crissy asked.

  Luke picked up the cards to deal out the next hand. “We used to get more pennies from the can, but it took away the stakes. The risk. Then one day Hugh said to Connie, ‘We should make you work for it,’ and that started the chores.”

  Hugh pushed himself away from the table. “Anybody want a turkey sandwich?”

  Play paused while they all got up to make sandwiches or plates of leftovers. Standing there while they laughed and joked, Crissy experienced an intense longing. They were family, a weird sort of family of single people from different times and countries, but they all fit together. They belonged. She didn’t belong anywhere and had nobody.

  Luke drew her aside. “What’s wrong, Liebchen? What can I do?”

  “I don’t belong,” she whispered so the others wouldn’t hear.

  He wrapped his arms around her. “You need to jump in there, and you’d belong to us. Could you jump?”

  She nodded more by reflex than acceptance. “Maybe.”

  He whispered in her ear. “Jump. I will always catch you.”

  She looked over to Connie, who elbowed Hugh in the ribs at something he said. Such happy people. She shouldn’t jump, but she wanted what they represented so badly she nodded again, saying okay even though she knew it couldn’t last.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Almost asleep, Luke pulled Crissy closer against his chest and buried his face in her thick, soft hair, enjoying the lingering vanilla scent of her shampoo. Then he noticed the stiffness of her back and the tight way she held her arms to her body. He couldn’t identify the emotions traveling along the mating cord, but they were unhappy ones.

  “Hey. You okay?”

  She pushed aside the hand covering her left breast and sat up so quickly, she was gone before he realized what was happening. “I think I’ll go to my room now.”

  “But...” He sat up and turned on the light while rubbing his eyes. He blinked blearily. He’d been so near sleep, the lights dazzled him. “I thought you’d spend the night with me. We could... I thought...” She said my name when she came. Doesn’t that mean something?

  “You thought we’d do it again? We will, only not tonight.” She tugged on underwear, hopping from foot to foot.

  “Do you have to be in such a hurry?”

  “Luke.”

  He leaned forward, head lowered, and braced his forearms on his raised knees. I did it again. Scared off my mate.

  “What did I do wrong?” He tried to keep his voice from breaking, and it came out cold and harsh. He forced himself to meet her eyes, but she could not meet his. “Crissy, what did I do?”

  “Geez.” She thrust her arms into the sleeves of her blouse and clutched it against her chest.

  “Look at me.”

  “I gotta go.”

  “No!” He jumped up and stood in front of her. “At least explain to me why, so I can fix this.
”

  “You can’t fix me,” she whispered.

  He cradled her face in his warm hands and turned her so she had no choice but to face him. “You don’t need fixing. You might need healing.”

  She closed her eyes, her whole body sagging. “Luke, I never sleep with the men I have sex with. It’s too...intimate.”

  “And sex isn’t?”

  “That’s pleasure, not trust.”

  “Seems to me a woman would have to trust a man to share her body with him.”

  She opened her eyes. “No. It takes more trust to lie unconscious next to someone for the whole night.”

  He lowered his hands to her shoulders, moving back a little to dip his head and get a better view of her face.

  “Crissy, has someone hurt you?”

  She shook her head. “No, not the way you think.”

  “But in some other way?”

  She bit her lip. “Could we not talk about this?”

  He took a deep breath. She tested his patience, but he sorely needed it now. “You said you would jump with me. Right into the deep end. I meant everything. Trust, acceptance, everything. That’s what you get from me, and I’m not going to give up until I get the same from you.”

  “I’ll leave you. I need to leave right now. I leave. That’s what I do.” Her voice rose. He kissed her gently on the lips to calm and quiet her. “I don’t want to do this to you,” she said, calmer, when he released her lips. “Let me leave before it’s too late.”

  “It was too late the moment I walked into Bobby’s. It was for you, too. You just haven’t accepted it yet.”

  “Please, Luke.” She shook from head to toe.

  He pulled her over to the foot of the bed and pushed her down until she sat beside him. He placed his arm around her shoulders and rubbed her upper arm. The blouse had chilled from lying on the floor, and she shivered.

  “Let’s get under the blankets. We won’t do more than talk. I promise.”

  She eyed the door, but said, “Okay.”

  He guided her back. He didn’t encourage her to remove clothing, but she tugged off the blouse on her own, lying next to him in her underwear. He drew the covers over them both, cocooning her in them at his side.

  “Breathe, Liebchen. Take one deep breath after another.” They lay quietly for several minutes, her face resting against his chest, his arms around her back, the soft creaks of the old house loud as it released its heat into the night.