by V. Vaughn
30
My sister moved in with Paul about a week after she became a werewolf, and her presence is already apparent as I walk through their house. I came right after work, and Paul and Warren aren’t here yet. I recognize some of the paintings that used to hang in Caroline’s trailer on the walls, and I stop before one of my favorites. It’s a watercolor of the ocean, and the simplicity of it always mesmerizes me.
The aroma of garlic is in the air, and I’m grateful there isn’t a hint of curry to go with it. Caroline calls out from the kitchen, “Your wine is ready.”
I enter into a space done in black and white. It’s not my sister’s style, and I wonder how long it will take before she’s brightened it up with color. She hands me a glass, and I sip the burgundy contents. The flavor has a hint of dark cherry that makes me sigh. “Delicious.”
“I know. Paul has expensive taste in wines.” She grins at me. “I could have done worse.”
I think about the evening before me, and my stomach flutters a bit with nerves, or maybe it’s sexual tension. I ask, “What do you know about Warren? Prep me.”
“He’s quiet, kind, and cares very much about the pack. He’s Paul’s right-hand man and likes dessert.” A wooden spoon scrapes as she stirs a sauce. “He’s also never been married, because he was waiting for his true mate. But the pack really needs children, and Paul’s encouraging him to find a suitable mate.”
“Wait. You’re trying to set me up to have werewolves for your pack?”
She grins. “Only if you two click.” She tilts her wine glass at me. “Or I might be hooking you up with great sex.”
“Oh. Okay. That’s much better.” I frown as I sip my drink, because it’s still a setup. I squirm at the thought of giving birth to wolf cubs. “Will you give birth to little werewolves?” I ask.
“No. The children are just like humans until puberty.”
“That gives a new twist to the teenage years.” While I do want a family, I’m not so sure I want to go down my sister’s path. But I’m beginning to realize if I’m looking for a partner in this town, it’s likely he’ll be a werewolf. Perhaps Winter Valley isn’t where I want to settle down after all. Wedding season does end in the fall.
I ask, “Hey, how do werewolves feel about a summer fling? Do they do that sort of thing?”
Caroline shrugs. “I’m not sure.” Her spoon clatters on the countertop, and she touches my arm. The heat she transmits is almost uncomfortable as she says, “Soph, I’m not going to push you toward this. I’m sorry I didn’t think to ask before setting you up with Warren. I guess I want you to be as happy as I am.”
The thing is, I do know she means well, so I say, “It’s fine. I can handle one dinner.” Caroline holds up her hand as if she’s trying to stop me so she can apologize more, but I continue on to set her at ease. “Besides, at least the view will be nice. Do you think we could finagle a way to get him out of his shirt?”
Now my sister’s eyes are wide, and I hear the back door open. Fabulous. But par for the course for me, it seems. “I really have to learn to keep my mouth shut.” I lift my wine glass and take a swig as Paul and Warren enter the kitchen.
Paul’s wink at me leaves no doubt Warren heard what I said, and I sigh as I hold out my hand. “Hi, Warren. I’m Sophie, Caroline’s sister.” His heat is a jolt of pleasure that races through me, and I pause for a second at the shock before I add, “I hope you can manage the next few hours with me. I’ll try to keep my every thought from tumbling out of my mouth.”
Warren scowls as he traps my fingers with both of his hands. His nostrils flare when he inhales deeply, and his eyes fall shut for a second. The man actually sways a little before he shoves my hands back at me like an unwanted gift and steps back. He glances at Paul, and the muscles in Warren’s jaw flex before he turns and rushes back toward the car.
What the hell? I turn to my sister and ask, “See what I mean, Caro? I freak him out. I think he just had a mushroom trip flashback.”
Paul grabs the bottle of wine from the counter, and my sister says, “That was very weird. Paul?”
Liquid gurgles as he tops off my glass. “It will be fine,” Paul says as he gazes at me with an intensity that makes me understand how alphas exert mind control. “You’re his true mate.”
My jaw drops, and Caroline asks, “What? He just ran off to shift because she’s his true mate?” She looks at me in confusion. “He is an odd man. I’m so sorry, Sophie.”
I hold up my hand as I swallow more of my drink and then say, “Mushrooms were never a good thing. People take their clothes off and run around naked, and... oh wait.” I grin at my sister so she’ll laugh instead of let this upset her. “That was me.” Caroline shakes her head at me, and I say, “Seriously, no worries. I have that effect on guys.” I chuckle.
Caroline grabs the wine from Paul and tops her glass off too as she says to him, “You’re going to need to get us another bottle. Or two.”
She grabs my arm and leads me over to the couch. “Stop being so self-deprecating, Soph,” she says. “This is actually great news.”
The couch whooshes around us as we sit. “Yeah. Right.”
A kitchen cabinet clicks shut, and Paul says, “It is.”
“From what I understand,” says Caroline, “you two are destined to be together forever. If you decide to bond with Warren, you’ll be really happy.”
Paul sits across from us and leans forward in his chair to rest his elbows on his knees. He swirls burgundy liquid in his glass. “You have to understand that Warren is very protective of our pack, and recent events have made him cautious around human females.”
“So basically me being his true mate is Warren’s worst nightmare?” I ask. “I do like it when men dream about me.” I chuckle because if I don’t make a joke about this, I might be the next one to tear off my clothes and run away.
Paul says, “I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but this is a good thing. I can’t think of a better partner for my beta.”
I remain silent because I can’t think of a snappy comeback, and I ponder how a man that can’t stand the sight of me could possibly be my true mate. Caroline grabs my hand. “You know I’d love to welcome you to the pack with open arms, but this is your decision to make. Nobody gets to tell you what to do about this. Okay?”
I nod and stand to go out to the deck. “I need some air.”
My feet tap lightly over the floor and seem to beat along with my pounding heart. A breeze is cool on my neck as I gaze out at the lake. I recall how I jumped in yesterday only to discover it was cold as ice. I’m a risk taker, and the concept of being a werewolf’s true mate should be exciting to me. It might be, if the man I’m destined to be with wasn’t so horrified by our fate.
I sip my wine and let it burn slowly down my throat as I recall my previous failed marriage. While at the time I didn’t see Dave didn’t love me the way I did him, the signs were there. This time I’m not going to be so blind. Perhaps I’m jaded, but being with another man that doesn’t really want me isn’t something I’m prepared to do just so I don’t end up alone.
A throat clears behind me, and I turn to discover Warren. He’s in a pair of jeans without a shirt. I say, “Hey.”
“Hi.”
I let a small smile form as I say, “You do speak.”
Warren nods, and then he smiles too as he adds, “Yes. I speak.”
“So.” I force myself not to scan his body with my eyes, and keep my mouth shut to give him a chance to tell me what he’s thinking.
“I’m sorry I ran off like that. It’s not you.”
Like hell it isn’t. I’m immune to men’s lies now and nod as I wait for more to spill.
He says, “We’re true mates. Do you know what that means?”
I nod again.
Warren rakes his hand through his salt-and-pepper hair, and the gray shimmers in the sunlight. “It’s kind of unnerving when someone doesn’t talk.” He lets out a dry laugh. “Look. We got off
on the wrong foot. Can we start over?”
“No, we can’t. I’m sure you’re a great guy, but this isn’t going to work for me.” I glance out at the lake and remember how the surface was warm yesterday, and know if I had lowered myself into the water slowly instead of diving, I wouldn’t have been so shocked. I turn back to Warren. “I’m going to go. Thanks for the help the other day.”
The sliding screen door to get inside swishes as I open it, and I say to Caroline, “Thanks for inviting me over, but I’m going to call it an early night.” I glance at Paul. “Thank you. You have a lovely home.”
He says, “Anytime.”
I turn to my sister, and her brows are knit in compassion as I say, “I’ll call you.”
She tugs me into an embrace. “We’ll talk.”
I give her a smile before I leave. When I get out the door that leads to my car, Warren is tucking in his shirt, and I notice the other items of clothing he’d stripped off to shift. He glances at me, and I get the distinct impression he’s upset about this. I divert my gaze quickly, and neither of us say a word as I pass by. You’ll be fine, Foxy. It was over before it started.
31
When I get home from Caroline’s, I heat up leftovers and help myself to more wine. Even though a relationship with Warren never started, I’m experiencing a sense of loss anyway. I suppose it’s more my desire to find someone who’ll love me as much as I love them, so I let myself wallow in self-pity for the evening and vow to shake it off by tomorrow.
Unfortunately, my dreams don’t let me, and I wake too early, feeling tired and cranky that the sexy werewolf next door dominated my thoughts in my sleep as well. While sex dreams are always welcome, the disturbing ones where Warren was in situations I couldn’t save him from were not. One was so real that I have half a mind to go next door and make sure he’s okay.
I let out a big yawn and stretch my arms over my head as I make my way downstairs. I don’t have to go into work until ten, which means I have a few hours before I have to do anything. I tug my tight camisole down over my stomach, and the tile floor is cool under my feet as I reach for ground coffee. I have the Miller wedding later today, and it’s going to last well into the evening, so I pull out the dark roast.
I focus on my mental checklist of things to do for the reception as my strong brew trickles into the pot. I glance out at the water. It’s going to be a beautiful day for a wedding, and I imagine the bride is pleased. She’s a sweet girl, and I’m happy I get to witness her special day.
When my coffee is ready, I grab a large mug of it and wander out to my deck. The wood rail is rough against my arms as I lean on it. Staring off into the distance at nothing in particular, I contemplate a cold swim to wake me up. Footsteps on the stairs make me turn my gaze to discover Warren coming toward me with a plate of muffins. “Good morning,” he says.
He’s in a loose T-shirt and shorts, and the combination of his good looks and the aroma of warm muffins makes me smile before I remember I shouldn’t encourage him. I turn my body fully to face Warren and realize my mistake when he inhales sharply. My top is more than tight; it’s sheer enough to offer him a clear picture of my ample breasts.
I wince as I slap my arm over my chest and scurry to the door. “Oh god, I’m so sorry!” I call out as I jog toward my bedroom to retrieve a robe.
When I get back down, I notice Warren hasn’t moved, and he smiles at me. “You didn’t have to put that on for me. The view was nice. I don’t suppose I could finagle a way for you to take off that robe?”
My cheeks heat up as I chuckle at him using the same words I did at Caroline’s last night. I say, “I deserve that.” My face isn’t the only thing that’s flushed as desire begins to burn in me.
Warren takes a step in my direction, and he holds out the plate of baked goods. “I thought you might want some.”
I peek at them without moving. I’m afraid to get too close considering my reaction the last time we touched and the way my pulse has quickened in his vicinity. “They look delicious. Are they carrot?”
“Yes, and they have coconut, raisins, and nuts too.” Warren moves a little closer as if we’re playing an adult game of Red Light, Green Light. I gaze at him and notice his eyes are the blue of a summer sky. I move on to his mouth and have a sudden desire to find out if he’s a good kisser. I know I told him I didn’t want a relationship last night, but maybe I was too rash, because my body is screaming, “Yes!”
There’s a small table set between the two Adirondack chairs on the deck, and I tug my robe around myself a little tighter as I say, “Have a seat, and I’ll get you some coffee. How do you like it?”
“Black, please.”
When I get to the kitchen, my hand trembles, and the coffeepot clatters as I remove it. “Don’t fall”—I remember to keep my words to myself—“for this, Sophie.” I think Warren is trying to make up for yesterday, and I’ll let him, because he is my next-door neighbor for the summer. But friends is as far as I want to go.
Two plates clash as I grab them to carry along with our hot drinks and go outside. Warren has turned our chairs to face the lake, and I hand him his mug before I set the dishes down. I ask, “Do you live here year round?”
He ignores my question and stares at me for a moment as I get settled in my seat. I grab a muffin as I wait for him to speak. He says, “The Silver Lake wolves are in danger from humans and have been for over a century.”
I frown, because this is news to me, though Caroline and my niece, Trixie, did tell me that their existence was not something I could share. His gaze is intense, and I flash to the way Paul looked at me last night when he told me this man was my true mate. Warren says, “I don’t trust humans.”
I pluck a raisin from the top of my muffin as I consider his admission. I reply, “I don’t trust men.” I place the dried fruit on my tongue and lick my finger as he watches. His nostrils flare as he inhales deeply.
Warren breaks his gaze to lift a muffin and tear off the top before he looks at me again. “We’re true mates,” he says. He already told me this last night, so I guess he might be explaining why he’s attracted to someone he doesn’t like. I think a low growl comes from him, but it’s so faint, I’m not sure. He takes a big bite, and I watch his teeth sink slowly. My neck throbs with my erratic pulse as if it’s inviting him to move on to me next.
I break my baked good apart and lift a big chunk toward my mouth as I explain my attraction away too. “I know.” I tear a piece off with my teeth and contain my moan of pleasure at the sugary flavor when it hits my tongue. Warren’s gaze has me trapped, and I wonder if we’re staring each other down to see who’ll cave first.
I chew slowly as my chest heaves with my inability to catch my breath properly. Every inch of my being is humming with need for the man who is close enough to touch. He licks his lips and swallows down his mouthful of food. I mimic the action. We both set the rest of our muffin down, and I gasp when he grabs my hand.
My eyelids flutter in response to the jolt of electricity that passes through me from his touch, and I lean toward the man I want to devour. Now I’m sure Warren growls as he threads his fingers through my hair and pulls me into a kiss.
This is not a simple kiss, and we’re both equal participants as our mouths nip and our tongues tangle. I taste more than coffee and sugar. Warren’s flavor is one I’m sure is addictive, and I grab his shoulders to steady myself. Hard muscle flexes under my fingers as I hold on for dear life.
The kiss stops as abruptly as it started, and Warren’s chair scrapes on wood as he stands. He’s panting, and a warm glow flashes through his eyes as he stares down at me. The glow must be something powerful, because it reaches out to me, and I’m drawn to my sexy neighbor as if I have no control.
I stand too and step toward Warren. Soft cotton wads up in my hands as I clutch at his shirt to keep him from leaving. He grabs my hips and presses his groin against me. His large erection is rock hard between us, and he gazes at me as if he’s
asking permission.
A tiny voice in my head is warning me to stop, but I ignore it as I let out a small whimper and reach around Warren’s neck to pull him down for another kiss. His hands roam my body, and my robe falls to my feet with a soft thump when he slides it off my shoulders. He grabs my butt and breasts as if he needs to touch all of me as soon as he can. I’m just as desperate and try to memorize every dip and line of his fit body. I’m drowning in this man. And right now, I never want to stop.
32
Making out on my deck like teenagers, Warren and I make noises that aren’t appropriate for those that can hear us across the lake, and I begin to walk backward toward the door. When Warren’s hands slip under the hem of my top, I lift my arms for him to remove it. Warren tosses my cami and reaches behind my thighs to lift me up in such a way that I have no choice but to wrap my legs around his waist.
The contact of the junction between my legs against his werewolf heat makes me moan, and our mouths break apart as he carries me through the door. I breathe out, “Oh god,” as he continues to the stairs. I nip at his neck and shoulder as he walks. The movement of Warren’s body is sweet friction against my folds, and I’m sure I’ve soaked through my shorts by the time we get to my bedroom.
My feet thud on the floor as he sets me down. He steps away from me, and I wonder if he’s doing it for himself or me as I watch his hands open and close into fists. I take a moment to assess my situation. I scan his body that is still clothed and stop at the large bulge in his shorts. This man wants me as fiercely as I want him, but is it just physical attraction?
I gaze up into his face and ask, “What are we doing?”
“I don’t know,” says Warren. “I’ve never wanted someone as much as I want you, Sophie.” He takes a deep breath as he stands in the middle of my bedroom. “Never.”
