by Drea Roman
A jingling sound distracts me, and I look out the window. Dusk has fallen, and the temperature is dropping. Soon enough, we will have snow in Vale Valley. Tuck murmurs in his sleep, and I look back down at his face. He appears to be sleeping comfortably. My stomach takes this opportunity to remind me that I haven’t eaten today. I take my plate from Tuck’s hospital table and settle into one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs to eat. Eddie’s mother has, as always, made the perfect dressing, my favorite holiday dish. Tuck is still sleeping when I finish. I place my dishes in the box my team left and find two slices each of pecan and pumpkin pie. Smiling, I realize the guys thought of everything.
A night nurse stops by and checks Tuck’s vitals, which he sleeps right through. After she leaves, I set up the guest cot and lie down. My mind is terribly busy, but at this point, I have been awake for more than twenty-four hours. As my body relaxes and slumber drifts over me, I smile as I think of what the future with my mate might hold.
The night passes in fits and starts. Every hour the nurses come in to wake up Tuck, ask him questions, check his vital signs, and generally make the whole night miserable. Not that any stay in the hospital is enjoyable, but this is starting to feel ridiculous. The neurologist Dr. Loomis mentioned visited Tuck yesterday afternoon. Though he was concerned with Tuck’s patchy memory, he assured us that everything on the images of Tuck’s head indicated that my mate will recover well from his injuries. The attending doctor on call was just as surprised at Tuck’s quickly healing wounds as Dr. Loomis had been. The cracked ribs look a week past fracture, not a single day, and the bruises on Tuck’s face were fading instead of darkening as they would on a human. So my mate is definitely not a human. But the question remains—what exactly is Tuck?
After breakfast, the attending doctor stopped by to let us know that the hospital would be releasing Tuck within a few hours. Despite how quickly and mysteriously his wounds are healing, my mate still needs antibiotics to ward off infection in his ankle and plenty of bed rest. When the nurse started measuring him for crutches, Tuck looked down at his hospital gown in dismay.
“Where is my suit? I had on my favorite light green one with the fur trim.” With a panicked expression, he glances up a me. “Do you have it? They didn’t throw away my hat or my shoes, did they?”
“No, honey. They put them through the laundry for you. I have them right here.” I gesture toward the clear bag sitting on one of the chairs. “But you can’t wear those out. I had Eddie drop off some clothes. The whole horse team is huge, and it was easy to find someone your size with clothes to spare.”
Tuck nods. “Tell him I said thank you.”
I snort. “I’m pretty sure you will be able to thank him yourself. He and the guys will probably insist on stopping by in a day or two.”
Tuck grins at me absentmindedly as he practices walking on the crutches. Just before noon, Tuck is discharged, and I am given a list of signs of infection and deteriorating head wounds to take with me, along with some pain pills and antibiotics.
“Just as a precaution,” the nurse assures me. “Considering how quickly your mate is healing, we expect a full, complete, and very fast recovery.” She smiles down at Tuck, who sits daintily in the wheelchair, holding his crutches and his bag of clothing. After one more rundown of what to do if Tuck’s pain, nausea, or dizziness increase, Vale Valley Hospital sends us on our way. One of the orderlies, a bear shifter by the look and smell of him, helps us to my truck, picking my mate up into his burly arms before I have a chance to protest. Grumbling, I open the passenger door, and the orderly deposits Tuck into my front seat. My mate appears to be amused by my obvious jealousy and blows me a kiss before I shut the door.
Once we are on the road, Tuck looks out the window with obvious curiosity. Vale Valley is not that large of a city, and it takes very little time to drive out to my home, even though my land is on the outskirts of town. When we arrive, Tuck insists on using his crutches to get into my house. Luckily, there is only one small step up to the wrap-around porch, which features two swings, one on each side of the door. He is breathing hard when he reaches the door with me a short step behind. But the dazzling smile he tips up at me as he waits for me to open my home to him nearly knocks me over. My wolf lunges forward, and my mate’s candy cane smell intensifies, or maybe it is just the close proximity as I lean over him to unlock the door.
“Thank you,” he whispers, before crutching his way inside. He heads straight for the couch and plops down on it with a dramatic sigh, haphazardly leaning the crutches against the far end of the couch. Immediately, I rush over, moving a pillow into place and pulling his leg up on the cushions, so he can place his broken ankle on the pillow to elevate it. Tuck smiles up at me again, and my stomach fills with butterflies, and suddenly, I don’t know what to do with myself.
“May I have a glass of water?” he asks, almost shyly. Nodding jerkily, I rush to comply and return swiftly with a full glass.
“Thank you,” he answers politely as he takes a sip, then sets the glass down on the coffee table in front of the couch. When I continue to just stare at him, he laughs that melodic laugh and gestures for me to sit down. My couch is long, and my mate is tiny, so he takes up very little of it, situated as he is in the center. When I comply, he covers his mouth but cannot contain his giggle.
“What?” I ask, bemused and hoping to get in on the joke. “What’s so funny?”
“You,” he quips, his blue eyes sparkling.
“Why?”
“You still have your coat on. And for that matter, so do I.”
Damn it. My mate has so scrambled my brains that taking off our coats never occurred to me. Shaking my head at myself, I sigh. “You’re right. Would you like me to take your coat?”
He shrugs it off and hands it to me. “Only if you take off yours, too.” He winks at me, and unexpected heat flushes up my neck and into my face. Damn it. I’m blushing. I don’t blush, at least not since puberty. Tuck laughs again softly as I take our coats to the closet and hang them up. I put the bag of his clothes, which I had carried in with us and left by the door, in the closet as well. When I turn around, I find Tuck with his arm slung over the back of the couch, watching me with a wide, mischievous grin on his face.
“Come over here, mate. We haven’t had the chance to properly get to know each other, have we?”
Drawn toward him, as if under a spell, I return to the couch, but just stand there as if awaiting instructions, instructions from my mate. His candy cane smell has certainly intensified, and it suddenly dawns on me why. He is my mate, and he wants me. Damn. I breathe in the scent as I stand over him, letting it wash over my senses. My eyes close in bliss for a moment, and when I open them again, I find my delicious little mate smirking up at me.
“Come.” He beckons me with a crooked little finger as he scoots down the couch. He wants me to sit by him, so I move the pillow and his casted ankle to the coffee table so it is easier for us to face each other. When I sit down next to him, he slides his arms around me, leans his head against my shoulder, and sighs.
“Darren.” He breathes out my name against my ear, his breath puffing warmly against my skin, causing me to shiver. Slowly I turn in his embrace until we are face to face. For a long moment, we stare into each other’s eyes. Then I dip my head, he tilts his up, and our lips meet in a sweet brush, our first kiss. Joy bubbles through me, and I tilt my head for a better angle as I take him into my arms. The first few passes of our lips are soft and warm and feel like coming home. Then Tuck flicks out his tongue against my bottom lip, and my desire ratchets up a thousand degrees. Moaning, I take his mouth more fully as I cup his face with one hand and hold him to me with the other. His fingers tangle in my hair as we thoroughly explore each other’s mouths with our lips and tongues. Tuck whimpers, or maybe that was me. It doesn’t matter who is making what sounds when I am kissing my mate for the first time as we cling to one another. Time passes as we devour each other’s mouths, our kisses turn
ing frantic and needy.
“Darren,” he moans against my lips when we part for air.
“I know, Tuck. I know,” I whisper back before fluttering butterfly kisses up his jaw and across his cheek. He giggles when I kiss the bridge of his nose and then his eyelids on my lips’ journey across his face. My feelings toward him are tender, yet hot, so I nip at his ear, before nosing my way into the crook of his neck. I lick his beating pulse and graze my teeth against the place where his neck meets his shoulder—his omega gland, where I will place my mark when we mate. His scent is heavy there and heavenly.
“Oh my God, Tuck. You smell like peppermint candy canes,” I murmur against his skin before laving it again with my tongue. His taste pings along my senses as I simultaneously breathe in his scent, this essence of him taking me over more deeply with each passing second. I want him more than I have wanted anything else in my life. And from the way he is touching me, his fingers sneaking up under the back of my shirt and digging his nails into my back, I am sure Tuck is feeling the same way. Then my wolf intervenes, wrenching me back to reality and reminding me that my mate is seriously injured. I pull back slowly, and Tuck whines, but I kiss his lips softly over and over until he sighs and relaxes into my chest. I hold him there in my arms for a long time, enjoying the feeling of finally holding my precious mate to me.
We sit in silence for a while before my curiosity gets the better of me.
“Tuck,” I ask, trepidation making my voice sound hollow and shaky. “How did you end up crashing your sleigh into my fence?”
Tuck sighs and snuggles himself closer into my side. He has managed to pull his injured leg up under himself, and I am surprised it does not seem to hurt him. He huffs a hot breath against my throat.
His voice is low and almost tremulous when he finally answers me. “I’m not really sure. I remember we were going really fast with the cold wind whipping across my face the way it always does in Nick’s best sleigh. Then we started falling. I don’t remember the crash exactly. Just the noise of splintering wood, then nothing.” He pauses and pushes himself up to sitting, but grabs my hand, intertwining our fingers. “When I woke up, I was alone. I crawled out of the wreckage. Then I saw your barn in the distance and somehow managed to get there.” He shakes his head a moment and winces. “I don’t remember much of the walk, except that it hurt and Nick kept telling me to keep going.”
“Nick?” I ask, unable to keep the growl out of my voice.
Tuck snickers, then laughs harder until he snorts. I’m not sure what is so funny, but the sound of his laugh makes me smile, and my wolf’s anxiety over this mysterious ‘Nick’ fades a little.
“Oh, don’t worry about Nick. I’ve known him since I was knee-high to a grasshopper. He’s my best friend, nothing more.”
Despite the very uncharacteristic jealousy coursing through my veins, I’m entranced with my little mate. “Your best friend?”
“Yeah, we. . .” Tuck’s voice trails off, and he looks confused for a moment. Then a flash of fear crosses his face. “I don’t remember anything else,” he whispers, looking up at me with wide, frightened eyes. “That isn’t good, is it?”
Wrapping my arms around him, I pull him back into me and kiss the top of his head. “It’s okay, Tuck. We will figure it out.” He nods his head against my neck, but I feel a trickle of tears against my skin. “Shh.” I murmur to him. “You’re here with me now. I will take care of you.” Again he nods, but remains quiet.
A few moments pass. Then my stomach reminds me that breakfast was a donut and weak coffee from the hospital commissary hours ago. “Are you hungry?”
Tuck sits up fully and pats his flat stomach through the borrowed Spiderman t-shirt. “I sure am. What I wouldn’t give for some chili and cornbread right about now.”
I laugh. “Really?”
Tuck winks at me before grinning. “I’m a pretty good cook, I’ll have you know.”
“I can’t wait to find out. Until you can show off your skills, I will have to show you mine.” It’s my turn to wink at my mate, who giggles. I stand and make my way around the island and stools into my kitchen. An aroma hits my nose as soon as I enter, and my stomach growls again in response. Chili.
My crockpot, which should be in the cupboard below the counter, is plugged into the wall outlet, and the light indicates it is set to “warm.” A tinfoil-covered pan is set on my stove. I raise the corner to reveal freshly baked cornbread.
I am stunned for a moment, then realize Eddie must have dropped off some provisions for us. Hmm. But how did Tuck know what they were? Just a lucky guess, I tell myself. He must have smelled the food. Of course. That is exactly what happened.
“You are in luck,” I call out to Tuck. “Eddie must have dropped some food off for us. Chili and cornbread, exactly what you were craving.”
“Should I be jealous of Eddie?” The smirk on Tuck’s face tells me he is not.
Laughing, I shake my head. “Eww, no. Not my type,” I say as I pull bowls and plates down from the cupboard. “Too horsey.”
Tuck laughs and watches as I dish us up some chili and cornbread. We eat lunch on the couch, but I can tell that my little mate is losing energy fast. He barely finishes his bowl before his head is leaning against my shoulder and his eyes are drooping.
“Let me get your meds. Then you can take a nap.” He nods, closing his eyes. I fish a pain pill and antibiotic out for him, and he swallows them dutifully. Tuck looks completely worn out by his ordeal. Before he can protest, I slip an arm around his back and one under his knees and stand with him in my arms.
“Strong wolf-man,” he murmurs as he settles his head into the crook of my neck.
“Tired little mate,” I whisper back, and he turns his head to smile up at me with twinkling eyes.
I carry him into my bedroom and settle him underneath the covers. He is asleep almost as soon as the blankets are settled over him. I cannot resist placing a kiss on his forehead before leaving him to nap.
After depositing the dishes in the dishwasher, I text Eddie: “Thanks for the chili and cornbread. We really appreciated it.”
Eddie shoots me back an answer within seconds: “You are welcome. But I didn’t bring you anything. Oh, and I have some surprising news. Give me a call when you can.”
Frowning, I hit the speed dial for Eddie, who answers on the second ring.
“It’s gone.”
“What’s gone?” I feel jittery, my wolf sensing that something is wrong.
“The sleigh.”
“What do you mean the sleigh is gone? It was splintered all over the ground next to the fence. It can’t be gone.”
“Well, it is. And that’s another thing. The fence ain’t broken.”
“What? Wait, are you in the right place? It is the fence. . .”
My best friend cuts me off. “At the end of the lane of pine trees leading to your dad’s old horse barn. Yeah, Darren, I know which one. I’m standing here right now with the team. The fence isn’t broken. In fact, the ground around it doesn’t look like it has been disturbed in a long time. Are you sure this is where you saw the sleigh?”
As I grasp the phone in my hand, anxiety grips me, and I walk back down the hall to check on Tuck. I open the bedroom door and peek in on my mate. He is exactly where I left him, curled up in the middle of my bed with the covers pulled up to his neck.
“Yeah,” I answer as I pull my bedroom door almost all of the way closed. I want to be able to hear if Tuck cries out. “That’s where it was.” I take a deep, shuddering breath, trying to calm myself. “Do me a favor. Check out the barn. How does it look?”
“Colt already did. He said he could smell you and your little twink in one of the horse stalls.”
Despite my anxiety, I chuckle. “Thanks, Eddie. I have no idea why the sleigh is gone, but I’ll check it out later.” I pause before revealing one of my major concerns to my best friend.
“He’s healing faster than he should.”
“Told
ya, he’s magic.”
“Thanks, that’s so helpful.”
“You’re welcome. I better go. I have to cover a shift for some slacker who’s taking care of his injured mate right now.”
“Thanks, and tell the guys I appreciate it.”
“Will do. Talk to you later.”
After hanging up with Eddie, I am restless, and my wolf wants out. Giving in to him, I strip off my clothes and allow the change to overtake me. I shake myself to settle my fur and nose my way into my bedroom. Tuck’s scent is even heavier now that I have access to my wolf senses. Slowly, I pad into the room and walk around the side of the bed to look into his sleeping face. He looks so peaceful, and all I want to do is cuddle up next to him. I jump onto the bed, hoping I do not disturb him. First, I sniff his face and lick his cheek. Then I turn around a few times and settle against his feet. He sleeps soundly through it all. My wolf is happy, content to snuggle at my mate’s feet, protecting him as he sleeps.
5
Tuck
A warm weight rests against my feet as I wake up in an unfamiliar bed. A sage and wood smoke scent envelopes me, and I relax further. Darren. Mate. I blink my eyes open and raise my head to see Darren snuggled up next to me in his wolf form. He is the same color I recall from my visions in the magic snow globe, black with smoky gray highlights in his collar. I scoot down the bed so I can curl myself around the massive wolf, nearly the size of a Saint Bernard. I run my fingers through his soft fur, marveling at the striations of color throughout his coat. He huffs and snuggles his nose farther under his tail. Clearly, he is not ready to wake up from our nap. Resting my head against my wolf’s side, I close my eyes and let sleep take me again.
