Greatest Gift

by Moira Callahan

  He gave her a lazy shrug, reached out, and pulled her in close. “The clothing is for you to wear when you go on shift tonight, and maybe some for tomorrow, and the day after.”

  She gave into the urge and smacked his arm. “I am not moving in here with you, Nichols.”

  “Why not? I happen to think it’s a brilliant idea. It’s closer to work, and has a nice large bed with the benefit of having me in there with you to bring to the table.”

  She smacked him again. “Not funny. I barely know you, Jakob. That’s the first problem with this so-called brilliant idea. The second would be the fact I like my apartment. Yes, it’s a ways from work, but it’s my place, my space.”

  “Okay, both excellent points. Not saying they aren’t. The first is easy enough to overcome, sweet cheeks. Hey, you got that for smacking me the second time. The first, I’m giving to you, but the second was uncalled for.” Drawing her between his legs, he looped his arms low around her waist. “What do you want to know about me? Ask and I’ll tell you straight up.”

  Chewing on her lip, Holland lowered her gaze to his chest. A chest she only right then realized was naked. Holy shit, the man was fucking built. Groaning internally, she traced her fingers over a tribal design on his left pec that was an interesting mix between masculine angles mixed with more feminine softness. Strangely enough she found it suited him. Moving her gaze to his left arm, she saw the pattern went up over his shoulder, and partway down his bicep before it faded off with another tattoo taking over. This one was a Celtic cross, and what looked to be a pack of wolves stalking right off his arm. The closest animal had its lips drawn up in a fierce snarl as it stood over what appeared to be a sleeping pup.

  She touched the pup, and looked up at him. “Tell me about the tattoos.” She figured she might be able to get a read on him for his honesty in talking about the pieces. They were pure artwork, and obviously had meaning to him.

  He lifted an eyebrow, and nodded. It was like he understood where she was going with her request. “The cross is for my grandfather, he was an old Irishman straight from the old country. Had this thick accent where, if you were lucky, you understood about two words out of twenty. Loved his whiskey, loved a good cigar out on the back porch, and got a kick telling us grandkids tall tales from his homeland. The tribal piece is a representation for my parents. The hard edges are all my old man, and the softer strokes are my mum. She always said she was the balance to my dad’s rougher parts. The ying to his yang or some such thing. An old friend who grew up with me became a tattooist and designed it when I told him what I wanted. He’s actually done all my pieces.”

  Jakob backed her up a few steps, and then shifted their position so she could see his back in the mirror over the sink. “The dragon is part of a story Granda used to tell us kids. There are several hidden characters from Celtic lore hidden in the piece.”

  Holland rested her cheek over the wolves to stare into the mirror while he spoke. She traced the ink lines visually and knew later she’d get closer to them to really explore. “The flower should look odd, but it fits in.” Sprouting from between the dragon’s toes, up from the Earth crushed beneath the foot, the bloom was fragile, yet strong at the same time.

  “The poppy is for my dad’s mother, the grumpy Celtic’s wife. Her name was Poppy, and she was everything that flower was. Strong with a will that would bend but never break. Fragile in appearance yet tougher than she looked. Nana was maybe five feet tall, weighed ninety pounds soaking wet while wearing everything she owned, and ruled with a gigantic wooden spoon. She was ruthless, and yet such a gentle soul. She had Granda by the balls and wasn’t afraid to squeeze when he stepped wrong.” His chuckle was affectionate like his words.

  “She sounds amazing.”

  “She surely was, I miss her every day. Granda too, they went together in their sleep like it was meant to be.”

  “It’s a beautiful piece.” Reaching around, she ran a finger down the stem. The muscle underneath rippled, and Jakob shifted his weight. “Ticklish are we?”

  “Do not go there, Holland. I will not play fair, or by any rules if you do.”

  Tempted though she was, she pressed her hand to his back. “Maybe later. Tell me about the rest.”

  “Not much more to say. I have a couple pieces that go down my right leg that I’ll show you any time you want me to drop my pants.”

  Men, one track fucking minds. “Thanks, I’ll wait on that one. Tell me about the wolves instead.” Holland felt his body go still in a way that she’d never known any man to do. Lifting her head to look up at him, she met his probing gaze head on. Whatever he was about to say was big. How she knew that she couldn’t begin to guess at, but Holland knew she needed to hear it. If he would tell her.

  Chapter Eight

  Jakob was trying to figure out how to tell her. Blowing out a breath, he lifted her up, turned, and settled her sweet ass on the vanity. He eased between her legs, and settled his hands on her thighs. He figured he should straight up tell her, make sure there’s no question.

  “I’m a wolf shifter, and the tattoo represents my pack.” He kept watch on her face hoping he hadn’t freaked her out. Her expression seemed to waffle between uncertainty and disbelief. “I’m not yanking your chain, Holland. Humans and shifters have coexisted for centuries. There’s lore about the firsts, but no one knows for sure how we came to be.”

  She pushed at his arms. Knowing she was fighting her own reality in regards to what he’d shared, Jakob backed off to give her space. She slid off the vanity and paced toward the tub before spinning to face him. “You’re shitting me, right?”

  The question held a desperate edge. “No. I can prove it to you if you want, but I don’t want to send you running and screaming into the street,” he said softly. Going slow, he approached her, and gently cupped her face. “I have never, and will never lie to you, Holland. Lying goes against everything I stand for, what the shifters stand for. The truth may damn well hurt, but never like a lie can.”

  Holland held onto his wrists while she stared up at him. He heard her swallow hard a second before her nails dug into his skin. Her breathing accelerated, and her heart rate kicked up. She believed him and it was freaking her out. “Shh,” he whispered. Slowly, he pulled her into his arms giving her every opportunity to pull back, or push him away. When she didn’t Jakob folded her up in his arms and held tight.

  It took some time, but eventually the shaking stopped and she heaved a huge sigh. He continued to hold onto her, he liked having her in his arms. Stroking a hand down her back, he leaned his head to the side to see her face. “How are you holding up?”

  “I don’t know,” she admitted after a minute of tense silence. “This is a lot to take in, Jakob. I’m having some serious trouble wrapping my mind around it. I mean it explains a lot, but then I feel like I’m probably losing my mind for believing you.”

  Jakob felt relief course through him upon hearing she believed him. “You’re not losing your marbles, sweet cheeks. This happens to be outside the realm of your belief until now. It will take you some time to fully come to terms with it all, and that’s fine.” Giving her another squeeze, he took a step back, and rubbed his hands over her arms. “For now let’s grab a shower and then head out. We both need to eat, and we need to attend to other normal everyday things too. Put all this on the back burner for the moment and let your brain mull it over at its own pace.”

  She gave a nod, and lifted a hand to press to her brow. “That could take a while.”

  “No rush, Holland. We have all the time in the world.” Taking her hand in his, Jakob pressed a kiss to her palm. “Why don’t you hop in the shower here, I’ll use the guest bath, and then we can get on the road for our pancakes. Work for you?”

  Holland rubbed her thumb to his lower lip before blinking, and looking up at him. “Yeah, that works. Can we go by my place before pancakes? I want some new clothes.”

  “Whatever you want, sweet cheeks.” Grinning when she wrin
kled up her nose, Jakob pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Don’t take too long or I’ll come in to scrub your back.” He stepped back, and left the bathroom. Jakob could hear her muttering under her breath, but couldn’t quite make out the words. He had a feeling he wasn’t meant to hear whatever she was saying.

  Thirty minutes later, they were in his truck, and headed to her place. Jakob had hold on her one hand, their fingers laced together while she sat on the hump. He liked having her pressed up next to him, the heat from her thigh and arm warming his side, and her scent wrapping around him like a hug.

  He kept the peace on the way to her place. Holland was relaxed, her cheek resting against his shoulder, and her thumb lazily stroking over his skin. It was a comfortable silence, with no strain to fill the quiet.

  Pulling into the parking lot for her building, Jakob frowned when he saw a police cruiser by the entrance, and another toward the back. He knew the moment Holland spotted them, her entire body going tense. Giving her hand a light squeeze, he pulled into her parking stall and turned the truck off.

  Inside the building, he trailed behind her to the manager’s office. Their short conversation allowed him the perfect opportunity to check out Holland’s rear end. He’d had few chances before, she was normally wary when he was close. Now that she was starting to relax around him he might get a little more time to scope out her sweet ass and how it filled her jeans to perfection.

  “Why are your eyes on my ass?”

  Lifting his chin enough to meet her gaze, Jakob grinned. “I like your ass. I have to tell you, sweet cheeks, that those jeans you are wearing make it look super fine. Personally though, I can’t wait until I get to see it naked.”

  The smack to his arm, he figured he did deserve. Given he’d said that loud enough, and with the manager right there gawking, he took the love tap. Slipping an arm around her waist, Jakob pulled her back against him, and pressed a kiss to her jaw. He could get used to playing with her on a regular basis.

  He let her loose, but kept a hand on the small of her back. Walking along with her, he followed her into her apartment, and shook his head. “Babe, you may need to have a cleaning crew run through here.”

  “You think?” Her sarcastic tone only made him want to kiss her, but he resisted since she was headed down the hall to what he guessed was the bedroom.

  “Well, I guess you could leave it looking lived in, but the whole frat room vibe really doesn’t work with your decor.” At least it didn’t smell like a frat house. It still held her scent, one he wanted to roll around in.

  A curse and a thud had him moving to her bedroom door. He found her sucking on a knuckle, and glaring at something not in his sightline. Moving closer, he pulled her finger free to get a look, and winced. She’d taken a chunk from the knuckle and blood was welling. “Damn, what the hell did you do?”

  “Fucking memory box got me. I keep swearing I’ll get it fixed, but then I forget about it until the next time it takes a chunk off. I swear it has to be possessed, it keeps demanding blood on a regular basis.”

  “Let’s get that cleaned out with something slightly more sanitary than your gorgeous mouth, and put a Band-aid on it. Then, I will go digging for whatever you need while you pull out some clothes. I’m not leaving you here with a potentially satanic box.”

  She snorted at that. “I like how you’re looking out for my welfare, and not even thinking about yourself in the least.”

  “All you, sweet cheeks. I’m a gentleman after all.” Sticking her hand under the cold water, he kept talking before he got an earful about her thoughts on that last part. “Where might your medical supplies be?”

  “There’s a little first aid kit under the sink.” Holland moved to the side slightly, and tapped it with a foot. “It’s near the back, yellow bag.”

  Jakob quickly collected it, and opened it up to inspect the items. “Well, pick your poison. Iodine or peroxide to clean out any uglies that may have invaded.”

  “Peroxide,” she said with zero enthusiasm. Not that he blamed her, either choice was a bitch and a half. Tearing open a little gauze pad package, he held it at the ready for when she pulled her hand from under the water. He quickly poured on the peroxide, soaking the gauze at the same time, and then pressed the pad to the wound.

  While she swore up a blue streak, including some variations he’d never heard before, he got out the antibiotic cream and a bandage. Prepping the Band-aid, he waited for her to stop the stream of swearing. Once her finger was wrapped up he pressed a kiss to the knuckle. “Let me tidy up in here, and then we’ll get you packed for a couple days.”

  “Days? I never agreed to days. Another night maybe, and even then I’m still not seeing the wisdom in this move, Nichols.”

  “Oh, but you will. Fear not, I will reveal my master plan.”

  “Pretty much what I’m worried about.” He heard her mutter when she left the bathroom. God, he adored the mouth on that woman. Maybe he could talk her into putting it toward other activities later. Once she was fed, and had some coffee. Cause right then he knew saying anything would be a bad, bad idea.

  Chapter Nine

  Her belly full, and another full coffee before her, Holland relaxed back into the booth. She had to give it to Jakob, while he might be bound and determined to drive her batty, he was doing a damn fine job looking out for her. He’d fed her until she couldn’t get more in, had joked and teased her all through the meal, and generally was there for her. While it might all be an act to get in her pants, she didn’t quite believe that easy reasoning. The guy actually seemed to care.

  Definitely not the norm from past experiences. Not that she was having to beat the guys off with a stick or anything, but the ones that did come sniffing around only ever seemed to have one goal in mind. Jakob was keeping her on her toes by doing things his own way. The fact he wasn’t like the others likely had more to do with the fact he was more than a mere man. A wolf, if she was to believe him. And despite her mind’s natural inclination to disbelieve him, Holland knew on some level that he wasn’t lying to her. Jakob Nichols was a wolf. Or half wolf, or however the fuck that worked. She probably should ask him about that, it might help to get her head wrapped around it all.

  The only issue with that was how to pose the question. It wasn’t like she could blurt it out. That would be downright rude. And while Holland might be blunt, painfully so on occasion, she didn’t say things with the sole purpose to hurt people. She didn’t believe that in most situations sugar coating was required or the right tact to take. Although, she would admit that on the rare occasion a gentler touch could be required. Not with this though. Her only real concern was offending Jakob. While she figured from experience it would take a lot to set him off, this particular query might be a touchier subject for him.

  “I can hear the wheels grinding, Holland. If you have something to say, or ask, spit it out already. The worried thing you’ve got going on is adorable, but you’re starting to freak me out.”

  Then he went and opened his mouth making her want to blurt the shit out and to hell with however he reacted. Clenching her teeth together, she counted to ten, and let out a slow breath. She knew better than to act impulsively. Been there, done that, had the scars to prove it. “Still working out how to phrase it in my head.”

  “Ah,” he breathed out. “Now I’m real curious to hear whatever might be twirling about in your brain. Care to give me a hint?”

  “Nope.” At least not until she’d played out scenarios in her head, and they were somewhere without witnesses who might overhear something they shouldn’t. Hell, she didn’t even know if it was a secret, or if she happened to be the only one that hadn’t known. Shit, another question to pose to him. One that wasn’t likely to kick up his ire. “Actually, I do have a question. Not sure how to phrase this. Ignore my fumbling if you would.”

  “Damn woman, spit it out already.”

  Scrunching up her face, she leaned across the table a bit, and made sure to keep her voice dow
n. “You said earlier that your people tend to keep their condition for lack of a better term, secret, but does anyone know? I mean obviously a few folks must, but is it more common in some places than others? Or am I like the only person running around these parts who is completely clueless?”

  “That’s more than one question.”

  Before she could figure out what to throw his direction, Jakob held up a pacifying hand.

  “Calm yourself, sweet cheeks. Geez,” he muttered. “Anyone with the, cute term by the way, condition knows another with the condition. I can’t really explain how we know, but there’s some internal knowing that clicks on when we’re within proximity. Up close and personal, there’s a scent each branch carries to them, and that tells us what their particular condition is.”

  Holland had the distinct impression he was mocking her. But since she’d been the one to use the word she couldn’t really fault him. She hadn’t felt comfortable using the word shifter in public given the people around them, including a family in the booth behind where the kids appeared more interested in eavesdropping on others than their own meals.

  “A few without the condition are in the know, like yourself. There are even a couple towns where all the residents know about those living there and their conditions. Mostly smaller communities where it’s harder to keep it under wraps. The bigger the town, or city, the easier it is to hide in plain sight. On the other hand, the larger the community the harder it is to keep some things on the down low. It’s a bit like walking a tightrope. Balance is everything.”

  She could understand that. Which then brought up the other question she wanted to ask. Not in the restaurant, too many big ears listening in curiously. Neither she nor Jakob had said anything that couldn’t be taken several ways, but the next part was harder to cover with code. Especially since she did not want any misunderstandings. Mostly on her part about it all.

  “What else has your mind spinning? Don’t say there’s nothing, I can see it written all over your face.”