by Celia Kyle
“Hey!” she cried and kicked his shin under the table, all while struggling to keep a straight face. “Don’t laugh at me! I’m dangerous.”
“Sorry, sorry,” he chuckled and held his hands up in surrender. “Most everyone I know is pretty free and easy with their language. Took me a minute to translate.”
She finally grinned and it was like the sun had just come out after a rainstorm. Drew’s soul ached to get closer to her, but he controlled himself.
“Curse of being a teacher.” Her words confirmed his earlier suspicions. “If I slip up in front of the kids, I risk my job. But it kind of works out well. When one of my kids starts talking like a sailor when they think I can’t hear, I pull them aside and tell them if I can’t cuss, neither can they.”
“And they respond to that?”
“Most of the time.” She shrugged. “They can relate because they’re not supposed to cuss either. Plus, they think I’m kinda cool because I want to cuss.”
“What grade do you teach?”
“Fifth. A lot of teachers don’t like teaching rowdy elementary-schoolers, but I love my kids. They’re so funny and smart. You can really see the adults they’ll become someday, and that’s just awesome.”
Her eyes lit up when she spoke about “her kids” and it didn’t take a psychic—or even a fated mate—to see she loved her job.
“Sounds like you have a good handle on them.”
“For a lot of them, I’m kind of their second mom.”
She jerked her head to the fridge where Drew finally noticed all the papers stuck to the door. They were drawings of animals and superheroes and families, some more skilled than others, but all obviously created by children. He’d been so caught up in her that he hadn’t even seen them. Some detective he’d make!
“You’ll—” he started but then abruptly stopped.
He’d been about to tell her she’d make a wonderful mother to their pups one day, but he’d already promised himself he’d give her time to adjust to their new status as mates. Talking about raising a family with a woman he’d met less than an hour earlier was the very definition of not giving her time. Clearing his throat, he quickly changed tactics.
“You sound very dedicated. I’m sure your mother would be proud.”
The bright light in her eyes faded, but didn’t blink out completely. “Thank you. It hasn’t been easy, but she’s been well cared for over the years. First by our father. Since he passed away last year, the pack healer and omega have tended to her daily needs.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.” Drew resisted the urge to reach for her hand. “Sounds like he was a good man.”
Chloe pressed her lips into such a grim line, it almost looked like a frown. “Hmmm,” was her only reaction.
It seemed odd that she didn’t have a stronger reaction about her father, but Drew didn’t want to press. She’d open up eventually.
“What about you, mystery man?” She flashed him a grin.
“What about me?” He chuckled and shoveled more food into his mouth.
“It’s your turn. Tell me your life story.”
He wondered where to start as he finished chewing. Bad dads seemed as good a place as any. It wasn’t a subject he normally talked about—ever—but he felt so safe and simultaneously vulnerable with Chloe. As if he could lay bare his heart and she’d hold his pain as her own.
“It’s probably one you’ve seen played out a time or two as a teacher. Small town, alcoholic father, a runaway teen. Yadda yadda yadda.”
Her brow furrowed, and her hand inched toward him on the tabletop, as if she wanted to comfort him but held herself back. He didn’t need to feel her touch to feel her concern.
“I was sixteen when I finally took off. After years of drunken beatings and the inevitable promises to change, I eventually fought back. He still kicked my ass, but I got in a few licks that hurt. When my mother tended to his minor wounds before mine, I knew the time had come to leave, both my family and my pack.”
“Where’d you go?” she asked, breathless with the knowledge that leaving one’s pack was never easy, not to mention potentially life-threatening.
“Nowhere in particular. I hitchhiked around the state for a while and eventually wound up in a small town called Ashtown. Ran into a couple of wolves my age hanging out at a diner called Dickey’s and they invited me to stay with their pack. Their alpha, who also happened to be their dad, was really cool and sent me to stay with the pack’s healer and his mate, kind of like foster parents.”
“Is that why you decided to become a healer?”
He had to think about that one. “Yes and no. I would never have had the chance to become a healer if Rex hadn’t tutored me, but I think I was destined to become one.”
Just like I’m destined to be your mate, he thought.
“After I settled into the Blackwood pack, I realized I loved healing so much, I wanted it to become my profession. As you know, pack healers don’t get paid, so I went to vet school, graduated top of my class, and returned to Ashtown to set up shop.”
She watched him with carefully guarded curiosity. He could sense a question lurking inside her, some connection she’d made between them. All she had to do was ask it. Her lush lips parted slightly, and then her expression turned wooden, like a switch had been flipped.
“So how did you become such an expert on X-15?” she managed.
It wasn’t the thought that had been on her mind, but Drew was nothing if not patient. He could wait until she was ready.
“My pack had a run-in with the stuff last year. Nearly killed one of our pups, but luckily another member of our pack recognized the symptoms and we managed to give him the antidote before any permanent damage was done. After that nightmare, learning everything I could about it became a bit of an obsession.” He gave her a self-deprecating smirk. “Turns out, that’s how experts are made. Who knew?”
A familiar spark of hope lit up her eyes when she smiled at his quip. That spark worried him. What would she think of her new mate if he couldn’t help her mother?
“But just because I know more about the stuff than most wolves doesn’t mean I know everything,” he added, wanting to temper her expectations. “For example, I have no earthly idea how your mother has survived this long. She must be unusually strong.”
The spark blinked out. He hated to break her like that, but it had to be done. In an apparent attempt to cover her sadness, she jumped up and took their plates to the sink.
Drew followed and got busy scraping the egg bits out of the pan before they turned into cement. He handed the pan to Chloe without a word and she took it almost without looking, as if it was an old habit. They worked like that for the next several minutes in complete silence—her washing, him drying, working in perfect synchronicity, as if they’d been doing it the same way for twenty years. He liked it and wanted more. He wanted a lifetime of such easy intimacy. Even though Chloe seemed just as comfortable as him in their odd new roles, she must have felt differently.
“Hey, um, thanks for the help,” she spoke while he dried the last dish.
She backed away from him, putting more distance between them than he liked. What he liked even less was the anxious crease in her brow and the scent of confusion filling the room. What was there to be confused and anxious about? Finding one’s fated mate was supposed to be a joyous occasion, yet Chloe seemed agitated by the event.
“Sure,” he muttered, completely at a loss as he watched her inch farther and farther away from him. Each step was a dagger to his heart.
“Okay, so the guest room is down the hall, second door on the right. The bedding’s clean, bathroom’s right next door.” She bumped up against the wall and sidestepped until she reached the doorway. “I’m gonna take a nice soak in the tub and hit the hay.”
Whatever she expected his reaction to be, it probably wasn’t an instant hard-on tenting out his khakis like a boss. But he couldn’t help it. The thought of her stripping down and slipp
ing into steaming water was too much to take. Her glistening skin turning a delicious shade of pink, her nipples growing taut at the temperature change, the hair at the nape of her neck turning dark and damp. Then he pictured himself slipping in behind her, holding her body against his, feeling every curve and valley, slicking his soapy hands across every bit of flesh.
Damn.
Her eyes dropped to his groin, widened slightly, and then shot back up to meet his gaze. His hunger for her was reflected back at him, but that same apprehension mixed with it. She wanted him, that much was certain. He could smell it on her. But dark thoughts seemed to be tempering her need. When she scowled at him instead of leaping into his arms, he knew the thoughts had won. Spinning on her heel, she bolted out of the kitchen like she was on fire.
“Thanks!” he called out after her, the damp dish towel hanging limply from his hand.
What he got in return was a breathless, “Night!”
All of Drew’s instincts—human and wolf—screamed to go after her and show her exactly who he was and what they could be together. He stood motionless in the kitchen for what seemed like hours, trying to figure out if he should listen to his wolf or his brain.
His brain told him common courtesy required him to leave her in peace. Finish tidying up, go to the spare room, and lie there all night either dreaming of her or thinking of her. He suspected sleep would be fleeting, but she’d made it quite clear what she expected of him.
His wolf had other ideas.
It growled at the two healthy, unmated males Zeke had set as guards to keep Drew inside. Their scent reeked of testosterone. Drew’s upper lip pulled back in a snarl as he glared toward the front of the house. He had no idea exactly where the men were out there, but they were far too close to his mate for his comfort.
His mate who was about to get very naked and very wet.
“Fudge that,” he muttered as he tossed the dish towel on the counter and headed for the stairs.
Chapter Six
Chloe’s body thrummed with frenetic energy as she tried not to trip over her own feet on the stairs. Goosebumps speckled her skin and set the fine hairs on the back of her neck on end. Heat flooded her face, her chest, her belly, her core.
She struggled to keep her barely restrained wolf from breaking free—the beast snarling and demanding release. She’d worked so hard to keep the animal tucked away, deep in the fortress of her heart. She was careful. Always. She couldn’t allow some silly fantasy about a fairy tale ending to weaken her resolve. One misstep and her life—the life she’d built out of necessity—would shatter.
Again.
Drew’s scent lingered in her nose. He’d stood so close to her while they washed up that she’d nearly swooned. But she’d maintained her footing and found she’d enjoyed the shared chores. It had almost felt as if she was part of a real couple. Just two mates, working quietly side by side in domestic bliss.
Of course, that was utter nonsense. Impossible for a broken woman such as herself, yet… she couldn’t shake the sense of contentment from simply standing near him. All the more reason to hightail it out of there and slip into some suds. Hopefully they’d melt away all the tension that had collected in her shoulders over the course of a very long day and a very weird night.
Halfway up the stairs, she noticed her footsteps echoed off the walls. No, it was someone else’s footsteps.
Drew.
Her heart skipped several beats and she turned to cast a dark glare on him, even though a very big, very vocal part of her was thrilled he’d followed her. He couldn’t know that, or he might get false hope. He’d been so careful to keep her expectations low in regard to her mother. The least she could do was return the favor. Injured pride now was nothing compared to a broken heart later.
“I told you,” she pointed down the stairs, “the guest room is down there, around the corner.”
Drew stopped two steps below her, putting him at eye level. His eyes flashed, and she knew his wolf lingered close to the surface. So did hers. It begged to be released, even just a tiny bit, just to get a better whiff of his intoxicating scent. But Chloe knew from experience that if she gave her wolf an inch, it would take a mile.
“I know.” Drew’s voice took on a gravelly quality that made her nipples stand at attention. “But if you think I’m going to leave you alone while two large males are prowling around outside, you can think again.”
Chloe rolled her eyes, even as she secretly reveled in the jealousy that rolled off him in intense and undeniable waves. Other than Zeke, no one had ever been so protective of her. Even Warren, as much as he seemed to like her, never behaved so possessively, as if she belonged to him. Regardless, it needed to stop. For both their sakes.
“Trust me, Drew. They aren’t interested in me.” She knew that much with bone-deep certainty. They weren’t there to protect her. They were there to watch over him. “I appreciate your concern, but I really need some time alone, okay? So, this is what’s going to happen. I’m going to go upstairs, walk into that bathroom, close the door, and try to soak away my day. Alone. Got it?”
“Got it.” His lips twitched upward in the most sexy and frustrating manner. “You’re going to take a bath alone. But I will be in the bathroom with you.”
Chloe snorted. “Fat chance!”
She stomped the rest of the way up the stairs, each step echoing two footfalls. At the landing, she picked up the pace and bolted for the bathroom, giving her a slight lead, but it wasn’t enough. She slammed the door hard, hoping it would either snap shut, or maybe smash him in his perfect nose. It did neither.
Drew stopped it with his foot and then leaned against the jamb as the stupid, traitorous door slowly swung open again. Those tumultuous gray eyes watched her intently and she did her best to stop staring at him. But damn, he was sexy as hell. If he’d been any other man on the planet, she would have called Zeke to come take care of the creepazoid. But Drew… He made her want to strip down in front of him, take his hand, and draw a bath for both of them.
No! Her resolve weakened with every passing second, so she closed her eyes and held her breath, hoping the absence of two senses would give her the strength to kick his horny ass out of her bathroom. It worked… sort of.
“Listen, you. I’m going to have my bath, come heck or high water.” She added a good measure of defiance to her tone.
“And you deserve it.” His smile was a combination of placid and infuriating.
Plus, he still didn’t move.
Torn between frustration and titillation, Chloe climbed into her bathtub and yanked the shower curtain shut. She turned on the faucet but didn’t plug the drain. No sense in ruining a perfectly good pair of shoes while she made her point. It took a minute, but he finally caved.
“Are you really planning to take a bath with all of your clothes on just to spite me?” he asked.
“Abso-fudging-lutely! If that’s what it takes.”
His resigned sigh carried over the rush of the water. “Fine, here’s my offer. I’m still not leaving you alone, but if it will make you more comfortable, I’ll shift and lie on the floor. I won’t even try to peek. Scout’s honor.”
Before she could decide if he was being chivalrous or skeevy, the sound of someone disrobing startled her. As much as she wanted to peek at his naked body, she knew if she did, she’d lose all self-control. Only when she heard a half-human, half-animal grunt did she dare pull the curtain back enough to watch him shift into a large, and very handsome, brown wolf.
The animal turned a few circles on the bath mat, and then did exactly as he’d promised. He lay down, his long snout pointed at the door and away from her. Even across the room, raw strength radiated off him, calming her own wolf in a way Chloe had never managed on her own.
Choosing to trust him, Chloe quickly shimmied out of her clothes and dumped them on the floor—curtain still closed. The wolf didn’t move a muscle at the noise. Satisfied that Drew was a man—and wolf—of his word, she plugged
the tub and within minutes sank into the hot water. Too bad her lavender bubble bath was under the sink.
Not that it would have mattered. Normally, soaking in the tub acted like a balm to the wounds of her day. Today, no matter how much she tried to force it, she couldn’t relax, not with Drew right there.
Maybe a game of Candy Crush would distract her. Chloe felt around blindly for the phone-shaped lump in her pants while water dribbled down her arm. Holding onto the device with a python grip so it wouldn’t drop in the bath, she leaned back and turned it on.
The texting app popped up instead of her home screen. Right, Drew had texted someone earlier. Her own jealousy spiked, and she peeked out the curtain again. The wolf was still lying perfectly still, staring at the crack under the door.
I can’t believe I’m doing this. Chloe scanned the list of sent messages. But they were all hers, none to a number she didn’t recognize. He must have deleted it, which only sent her jealousy meter even higher.
What was he hiding? Did he really have a mate and pups back at Blackwood and this was just some ploy to get a little short-term booty? Now it was her duty to discover his dirty little secret!
It took a minute to remember how to find it, but Chloe remembered that simply deleting a text didn’t actually nuke it, only archived it. With her heart in her throat, she tapped the most recently archived text and held her breath.
All’s well. Don’t send the cavalry. Will be back in time for your pup’s arrival. Mason, I found my mate!
Chloe gasped, and the phone slipped from her hand. Like a scene out of a slapstick comedy, she fumbled and bounced the thing around just above the water, finally clamping it tightly between both shaking hands. She peeked out the curtain again—still no movement.
Holding the phone so close to her face she could barely read the words, she read the message again. And again. And ten more times after that. Understanding finally seeped into her waterlogged brain.
