by Zoe Chant
She kept hold of Arlo’s hand as she unlocked the door. He moved behind the door where he’d be out of sight when she opened it, and a thrill of excitement rippled through her.
“If you need me to make him back off…” Arlo said, and she shook her head.
“I can handle this. It’s about time I did.”
She opened the door.
“Finally,” Derek sighed before she’d even let go of the door handle. “Come on. I’ve given you time to talk to whoever-he-is. I’ve got things to do this evening, I can’t wait around after you forever.”
“And yet here you are. Hanging on my doorstep.” Jacqueline put her free hand on her hip. The other one was still holding Arlo’s. “Besides. There’s something I want to say to you, as well.”
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. This was her chance. For the first time, she felt strong enough to give Derek the tongue-lashing he deserved. To really make him feel what he’d done to her.
She tightened her grip on Arlo’s hand—and the feeling went away.
Derek was never going to change. He was never going to admit that a version of the world in which he wasn’t perfectly justified in everything he did existed. All the time and energy she spent thinking of ways to convince him otherwise were just… time and energy spent thinking about him. And he didn’t deserve that.
She wanted a fresh start. Whatever that meant.
And he was holding her back.
Jacqueline opened her eyes.
“Here we go,” Derek muttered. He glanced over his shoulder with a furtive look and Jacqueline bit back a groan. There was a car parked further down the street. She could just make out a figure in the passenger seat.
“You know what? I was wrong,” she said, and his expression brightened. “I don’t have anything to say to you. Have a good life. You and your family. Do a better job of it with them than we managed.”
And maybe don’t leave them in the car while you go to chat to your ex-wife! she added silently.
“I am,” Derek said firmly. “That’s why I want the house.”
Jacqueline froze.
God damn it.
“Really.”
Derek drove on. Jacqueline’s ears were buzzing too loudly for her to hear him.
A breath whispered in her ear. “One of those odd jobs I did was guard dog. Just say the word.”
Arlo’s voice drove away the buzzing and the hollow feeling inside her was replaced by certainty.
“You know, that’s handy,” she said, grinning. “Because I’m thinking of selling.”
“Great!” Derek’s whole posture changed as his eyes lit up. “A private sale would be best, you know. I have some options here.” He dug around in his coat pocket.
Jacqueline shook her head. “I don’t believe it.”
“What?”
“You’re trying this again? You actually—” She pinched the bridge of her nose. Being the bigger person is a lot easier when the smaller person doesn’t keep trying to kick you in the face. “Show me those.” She snatched the papers from him. “Are you kidding me? This is what the house was worth when we bought it.”
“The market—”
“Has gone up!” Jacqueline thrust the papers back at him. “Go away, Derek. If you’re that desperate for this old place, you can bid at auction like everyone else. And—no, I’m not finished. I meant what I said. I hope you have a good life. But I’m done with you. Don’t come back here again.”
“Aw, come on, Jackie—”
“Good bye, Derek.”
She shut the door on his face. Locked it. And threw the bolt, too, for good measure.
“Oh my God,” she breathed. “I cannot believe I spent ten years of my life with him. No wonder I never want to make a fuss. He just slithers all over any argument like it doesn’t exist.”
“Jacqueline.” Arlo’s voice was a low rumble, tinged with an intensity that made her heart sing.
“I know. I’m going to stop talking about him, right now.”
“No, I meant… you’re going to sell the house?”
The sound of a car starting up and driving away filtered through the door. Jacqueline walked through to the kitchen, pulling Arlo with her.
“As soon as I can. I’ve put it off too long. I need to get out of Dunston, and I want…” She leaned against a countertop and met his eyes. “We’re pack, aren’t we? Pack should stick together and there’s no way in hell I’m going to make you move to Dunston.”
“You’d move to Hideaway?”
“Yes.”
Arlo slipped his arms around her waist. His touch sent rivulets of desire through her veins, pooling deep inside her.
“But first…” she added and watched anticipation build in his dark eyes. “Let’s finish what we started back there.”
Arlo pushed her against the counter, his fingers digging into her waist as he kissed her. Jacqueline bit down gently on his lower lip, making him groan.
She let herself fall back over the counter, forcing Arlo to lean forward, covering her body. His hips were heavy against hers, his cock thick and hard against her stomach.
Need blazed inside her. “Arlo,” she said urgently, “I don’t think I’ll be able to stand it if you take things slow this time.”
Arlo growled something she couldn’t make out and kissed down her neck to her collarbone. His stubble grazed her sensitive skin.
“Good,” he rumbled, and Jacqueline’s whole body clenched.
Arlo pushed her shirt up. The first touch of his fingers on her skin drove her mad. Jacqueline tugged it the rest of the way off and he buried his face between her breasts. One of his hands slid into her pants. Jacqueline jerked her hips, urging him further.
“Oh-h, God, yes,” she gasped as his fingers slipped between her folds. She was so wet for him already.
“I need you.” Arlo kneeled down, undoing her jeans. “When you left—”
His voice was raw. Jacqueline’s heart ached, cooling the red-hot desire inside her. She was about to drop to her knees with him when he pulled her jeans and panties down and kissed between her legs.
The rush of pleasure was so intense it left Jacqueline dizzy. Then Arlo’s tongue flicked out and it was all she could do not to scream.
Then he slid one finger inside her, and two, and she did scream.
“That’s—” Jacqueline gasped, panting as her body shuddered around Arlo’s fingers. His tongue flicked out again, teasing her already-sensitized clit, and she moaned. “That’s… not fair…”
Arlo kissed his way back up her body. She swayed against him. Her orgasm was still sending aftershocks through her body, but one look at the expression in his eyes made her almost cry out with need again.
“I won’t be able to go as slow this time,” he said, cupping her face. “If I hurt you—”
“You won’t,” she gasped, and kissed him. “Please. Now.”
He moaned deep in his throat, his breath hot against her neck. “I need you,” he groaned.
She understood. He wanted the same thing she did. Hard and fast, burning away the misery that had separated them.
She tugged at his pants. He was already rock hard, and she ran her hands down his length, shivering in anticipation. Going slow had been intense enough—going fast…
She sat back up on the counter and kicked her jeans off. Arlo closed the space between them, his eyes dark as sin. He kissed her, claiming her mouth with a passion that left her breathless, and thrust inside her in one strong movement.
“Oh God!” Jacqueline cried out. “Please. More!”
She needed him with an intensity that made her whole body ache.
He filled her, hard and deep, each thrust driving more pleasure from her singing nerves until she felt like she was dissolving with ecstasy. It didn’t hurt. It was just pleasure, her body yearning for his masculine power as he filled her again and again. His energy was almost animalistic, frenzied, but his eyes were full of the same warm, steady love as e
ver. He just needed her, as desperately as she needed him.
She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him closer, so every driving thrust brought him fully inside her. He groaned into her shoulder, his own body stiffening as he came closer to climax, and the knowledge that she was doing this to him, that her body was bringing him so much pleasure his eyes were ragged with it, sent her over the edge again.
“Oh, God! Oh, Arlo, I—”
Jacqueline’s hand slipped, and something crashed to the floor.
“Oh, for the love of—” she panted. Arlo paused. “No, don’t stop!”
He drove into her again, holding her close to his chest. She was dizzy with joy, and when Arlo came his climax was so intense it left them both breathless.
They clung together, panting. After a few minutes Arlo raised his head and looked over her shoulder.
“I’m sorry. That was a vase. Should have been more careful.” Despite his words, his expression was utterly at peace.
“Don’t be sorry. And don’t be careful. I hate all this junk.” She kissed him and grinned. “It’s all rubbish the in-laws gifted us. Should have thrown it all out years ago.”
“In that case…” Arlo hoisted her up again and made a slow circuit of the kitchen. Jacqueline cackled with laughter as her feet knocked knick-knacks off the counters. She made an especially dramatic swipe when she got to the rooster-shaped paper-towel-holder and couldn’t help cackling at it crashed to the floor.
“Where to next?” Arlo asked, nuzzling her neck.
“The bathroom.” Jacqueline nipped at his ear.
“You want to clean up?”
The light in his eyes made her skin thrill. Again? she thought silently. Already?
She narrowed her eyes. “After I’ve smashed one more thing.”
When they got to the bathroom, she booted the be-doiley’d toilet roll doll off the vanity. It hit the mirror and bounced out the window, trailing toilet paper.
“Oops,” she said unrepentantly, and swiped one foot across the decorative soaps. “Hah!”
“Why do you have all this stuff?” Arlo asked.
Jacqueline surveyed the mess. “You might as well ask, why have this house? I’ve been so stuck. I stuck here paying the mortgage because I thought it was the right thing to do, I stuck with all the furniture we got for wedding gifts because I thought it was more sensible than buying new… It’s all leftovers. From another life.” She grinned. “And now that I’m finally selling up, smashing it all now is the last chance I’ll have to get any real use out of them.”
Arlo’s eyes shone. “Want me to carry you around any other rooms?”
“Maybe later. Right now, I want to soap you up.”
She thought, as she watched hot water streaming over Arlo’s chest, that maybe she’d found her equilibrium again and they’d go back to the slow, sensuous pace they’d had that night on the boat. A few minutes later, panting for breath as Arlo kneeled between her legs, she realized she was wrong. And started to wonder whether they’d ever be able to slow down again.
“Right,” Arlo said after they’d each washed up a second time. His eyes were sparkling. “Which way to the bedroom?”
Jacqueline directed him down the hall, kicking figurines and paper flowers off end tables as she went. It took them a while to reach the bedroom, as now that she’d started violently dismantling her old life, she didn’t want to stop.
Luckily Arlo didn’t seem to see anything unusual about the fact that her route to the bedroom took them through the kitchen, the dining room, and the front hall again. She even managed to dislodge one of the miserable sad-kitten pictures someone had given her as a wedding present.
The house was a total mess behind them, and it was great.
“Ahh,” she sighed as Arlo carefully put her down on the bed. “That feels good.”
Arlo lay down beside her. She rolled on top of him automatically, planting her elbows either side of his head.
“Thank you,” she said. “For chasing after me and making me see reason.”
“Thank you for giving me another chance.”
She stroked his cheek. “I spent so long chasing a dream I couldn’t have. I forgot that sometimes dreams do come true.”
She’d come so close to giving up, to letting her pain twist her up until she couldn’t see how many wonderful things the universe had left in it.
Even if she would never have the home full of children she’d longed for…
A shadow of concern passed over Arlo’s face.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Just a thought.” Arlo pulled her down to kiss her. “About dreams.”
“A good thought?”
“I think so.” He rolled over until they were lying side by side and combed his fingers through her hair. “I have an idea…”
He whispered it to her and she covered her mouth, barely daring to believe what she’d just heard. “Really?”
“Really.”
“You think it’ll work?”
“If I know Hideaway Cove, it will.”
Jacqueline kissed him, joy singing in her veins.
Maybe dreams can come true, after all. All of them.
22
Arlo
Jacqueline woke up first; Arlo drifted into wakefulness with the same slight unease he always had waking up on solid land, and then heard her moving elsewhere in the house.
Something that sounded like china shattered, and Jacqueline’s laughter drove away any trace of landsickness.
Arlo sat up. The bed creaked.
“Arlo?” There was the sound of footsteps, and then Jacqueline poked her head around the door. “I was going to make pancakes but, er, it just occurred to me that I smashed my only mixing bowl last night…”
Arlo frowned, going over her parade of destruction. “The one with the ducklings on it?”
“Ugh, yes.” Jacqueline grinned and smoothed down her shirt. To Arlo’s slight disappointment, she was wearing far more clothes than she’d gone to sleep in. “So I thought we could pick up something on the way.”
Arlo’s wolf stirred. He jumped up, its excitement firing up his body. “Great idea.”
Harrison’s truck was a stick shift, and the road to Hideaway wound up, down and around so many bends that Arlo was almost mad with not touching Jacqueline before they were halfway there.
You just spent the night with her! he reminded himself, but it didn’t help.
He glanced sideways and caught Jacqueline looking at him. Her lips curved into a smile and she reached over to put a hand on his shoulder.
Arlo hadn’t realized he’d been tense, but that simple touch relaxed him better than a whole week at anchor in a sunny bay full of fish. He sighed.
“Am I that obvious?”
“Maybe. Maybe I just want to keep hold of you so I know this is actually happening.” Jacqueline whistled out a breath. “You’re sure this is going to work?”
“You remember what Ma Sweets said.” Arlo’s voice became grim when he mentioned his foster mother. “Everyone at Hideaway works together to keep pack together.”
“Shifters look after their own.” Jacqueline’s voice was soft, and sad. Arlo bent his head to kiss her hand where it lay on his shoulder.
“If she wants to keep saying that, then she’ll need to play ball,” he said.
Or else admit that it’s all a lie, and the only people the Sweets look after are themselves.
He tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
“And what about the kids?”
Arlo blew out a long breath. “You already know I’m not good at connecting the dots,” he said. “Well, I think I’ve just figured out one of the other things the kids were keeping on the down-low.”
He’d called on Jacqueline’s landline before he left, asking Harrison to make sure the kids all knew they were coming back, but Tally’s lonely panic was still fresh in his mind. He didn’t want to put any of them through that again.
H
e felt the Weaver kids a mile out from Hideaway and clenched his teeth. It wasn’t the skull-busting agony he’d felt the night he sailed in to find Jacqueline diving into the waves, or the pure unhappiness of the morning before. The kids’ packlessness throbbed like an old bruise.
Don’t worry, he thought, wishing his telepathy reached further. We’re on our way.
Jacqueline squeezed his shoulder as they crested the rise that swept down to Hideaway Cove. “Can you reach them yet?”
He hadn’t said anything about mindspeaking to the kids. Jacqueline was just on the same wavelength as he was. He shook his head. How did I end up with such a perfect mate?
“Give it to the ice cream parlor,” he said, nodding towards Tess’s café. Its windows sparkled in the morning sun. “Wait a minute…”
“Hmm?”
*Tess?*
Tess’s voice hit his mind like a splash of sea spray. *Arlo. Good. Come on down, everyone’s here.*
“Strike that,” Arlo said to Jacqueline. “They’re all at the parlor.”
She frowned. “Why? What’s going on?”
“One sec.” Arlo concentrated. *Kenna? Dylan? Tally?*
The seal shifters’ minds sparked at his contact. There was another presence with them: Eric, he guessed. Harrison was there, too, which meant at least whatever else was going on, the kids probably hadn’t tried to stage a midnight escape.
He reached further and groaned.
He parked outside the parlor and opened the passenger door for Jacqueline. “The Sweets are here,” he warned her.
“Good to know.” Jacqueline narrowed her eyes. “Don’t worry. Now that I know what their deal is, I can handle them. Besides… I’ve been connecting some dots of my own. I may just have an ace up my sleeve.”
He gave her a questioning look, but she just smiled.
The bell above the door jangled as he pushed it open.
Someone had pushed all the café tables into a square in the middle of the room, and everyone was seated around them. Harrison and Lainie on one side, with Ma and Pa Sweets opposite them. The Weaver kids and Eric were seated facing the door. Kenna had a familiar scowl on her face that melted away when she saw Arlo and Jacqueline, and Dylan jumped up.
