Authors: Heather Long
Challenging…
“You did that like it didn’t even bother you.” Her amber eyes reflected the glow of the fire, twin flames to taunt him.
“I told you, I don’t let fear rule me.” No Alpha could afford to exist in a state of constant anxiety. “Your turn.”
“For?” Though she glanced at the fire, he didn’t miss the smile flirting with her lips or the teasing note in her voice.
“My story.” Choosing the chair opposite hers, he maintained his distance. She’d come with Luc. Luc wanted her here. Reminding himself of the fact would keep him at arms length.
Until Luc is better, if she is his mate…
Violence surged through him at the thought
.
Life would have to be particularly cruel to keep dangling potential…
Potential nothing. She is a guest.
“Well, I don’t know your story.” The invitation to play curled through the sentence. “But I hear I’m a good listener.”
“Can’t prove that by me.” Retrieving his wine glass and the bottle, he glanced at her.
Eyebrows raised at his retort, she extended her glass. “What is that supposed to mean?”
After refilling her glass to the halfway mark, he set the wine bottle aside before taking a sip of his wine. It was light and lemony, and likely from one of the vineyards in the Hudson Valley. He tended to support local suppliers over imports. “It means you’re ducking telling me about you or your plans, when I asked first.”
“No, you asked me to tell you a story, then you said your story.” She dared him to deny her.
“True, but you’re splitting hairs because you knew what I meant.”
“How am I supposed to know what you meant?” She shrugged. “We don’t know each other. You could have absolutely meant you wanted me to tell you your story…and I suppose I could make something up.”
“Really?” Further amused, he swirled the wine in the glass. The fire was a good accompaniment to the rain if for no other reason than he liked the way the light played over her features. “So, make something up. What is my story?”
“Hmm.” She tilted her head and sucked on her upper lip in thought. The action drew his attention to the soft shape of her mouth. The perfect cupid’s bow offered a lush complement to her flawless features. From the jet black length of her hair to the almond shape of her amber eyes to her honey skin tone, she could be a model. She definitely had the body for a swimsuit model with all the right curves. Pity it was raining, he could take her for a moonlit swim. “You’re a private man, probably because your parents give off a hippie vibe and you spent a lot of time pulling a Woodstock while you were growing up. They’re very laid back, so you tend to be more formal. You’re successful, but not so successful you don’t like to work. You have an office in your house and you go to a lot of meetings so if you don’t own your own company you’re probably some kind of stock trader which means you can do your work online or via the phone.”
His parents gave off a hippie vibe? Teeth clacking slightly as he struggled to keep his comments to himself, he raised his brows at her pause. She studied him, taking his measure perhaps?
“No, you own whatever it is you’re doing. You’ve got that control freak thing going for you, very Type A. You want to know who is working for you and why, what they do and I bet you could do the jobs of every single person in your employ. I think you had money going into it, because you don’t feel like the kind of guy who had to create his wealth, but you don’t take it for granted. Somewhere you had an accident or something happened to you…Now you don’t trust easily. I have to wonder if you ever did.”
The accuracy of her depiction wasn’t lost on him. When he opened his mouth to speak, she raised a single finger.
“I’m not done.”
Oh, really?
“Do continue,” he murmured. Agitation threaded through his wolf. Leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, he locked gazes with her to test a theory. She’d been meeting his eyes every so often and openly challenged him earlier. The peculiarity in her scent, so alluring earlier, sharpened to piquant.
“You’re bored.” The unexpected assessment silenced his wolf to the point both man and beast stilled. “More than that, you’re lonely. You want so badly out of the cage you’ve constructed around yourself that you’ll keep a total stranger around to talk to instead of your family or your friends or whomever else you’d be with otherwise. I’d bet if I weren’t here, you'd be alone. I think someone broke your heart, and that’s a terrible place to end a story.” Blowing out a breath, she blinked and looked away first. Tipping her glass up, she drained the wine from it before glancing at him again. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry they did. You seem like a nice guy.”
He wanted to dispute everything she said, but his wolf didn’t budge. The human had painted an eerie picture of him with her dangerous insight. Curiosity or threat? Brett didn’t know the answer.
“And now I’ve offended you.” Her wincing expression moved him. Even with his hackles raised, he refused to give her a reason to leave. Not yet.
Not when he had more questions than answers.
“Not at all,” he lied, daring her to contradict him. “I’m still locked on the idea that my parents give off a hippie vibe.”
A familiar scent reached him and he rose, retrieving the wine bottle to refill her glass and scanned the rain soaked darkness beyond the porch. A dusky gray wolf paced out from the far trees.
Pierce.
With a lift of his chin, he gestured the Hunter back.
“Holy shit.” Colby’s exclamation came out a hissed whisper, then her hand came down on his forearm. Twisted to face the same direction as the wolf, she couldn’t miss him. “That’s a wolf.”
Dammit.
Pierce slipped away and Brett said, “Where?” The lie tasted like acid. Colby wasn’t an idiot.
“Out—where did he go?” She stood, brushing against him as she walked to the edge of the porch to peer into the rain. Did she have zero self-preservation? She thought she saw a wolf, so she decided to get closer? “He was right there.”
Joining her, he watched her rather than the darkness. His nose told him Pierce had backed off significantly. He’d give the Hunter time to shift, then call him to find out if it was just a random pass through—his Hunters did check on him—or if something was wrong. Though he doubted the latter, if something had truly needed his attention Pierce wouldn’t have shown up in wolf form when he knew a human was staying at the house. “Hmm, maybe we should cut back on your wine.”
“I am not seeing things.” The irritation in her voice satisfied him on some level, especially after her piercing insights.
“If you say so.” He kept his voice light.
“I saw a wolf.” She took a step off the porch, and he caught her arm.
“Let’s say you did.” Tugging her to him, he drew her away from the step. “Why would you go chasing after it?”
“I wasn—”
“Where were you going then?”
“I…” She hesitated, then glanced out at the darkness before twisting to face him. Her nearness drowned him in her scent. “I have no idea.”
The honest response provided him with an understanding he’d been craving. “I have a story for you.”
“For me?” Caution filled those amber eyes.
His wolf settled further at the hint of understanding kindling in her expression. Rushing blindly into things didn’t define courage, but by the awareness of the danger and going anyway did. “Yes, for you.” Smoothing his hand over her arm, he waited for the shocks he’d received earlier, but only experienced a mild tingling sensation. Odd, considering she wasn’t pack or a wolf, but another piece of the puzzle to file away.
“Yes, for you. You’re a compassionate woman driven by an almost inescapable desire to help others no matter the personal cost.” Outrage replaced caution, but he gave into the urge for more contact and pressed his finger to her lips, silencing her protest. “You’ve been burned yourself. It’s why you recognize it in others, yet it hasn’t made you jaded. You still go out of your way for total strangers, even strangers you think you should dislike.”
Yes, perhaps he should have let Colby leave earlier.
“You put yourself out on a limb. When the branch breaks, you take the fall and then climb again. It’s an admirable persistence, but it’s left you on the other side of choices you couldn’t return from. You’re running away, not to something though you’re working very hard to change that around—but once again, you paused and clamber out on a limb. This time you did it for me.”
Her lashes descended, closing him out and, when she glanced at him again, she kept her chin down. Even her scent seemed tense, riddled with a taste of embarrassment and more than a touch of anger.
“Hope lives in you, hope you keep trying to bottle up. You chose a career path that lets you help others. Taking care of people is more than a job. It’s a need. You’re a lot like my
hippie
vibe mother in that respect.” The comparison fit her. “It’s enchanting.” The temptation she presented created a moral quandary, but Brett possessed patience. Her lips were as smooth and soft as he imagined. Removing his finger reluctantly, he changed the subject to something far safer. “What would you like to eat?”
Breath hitching, she withdrew a step and he let her escape. She wouldn’t get far. “You have a thing for feeding me, don’t you?” If he’d wanted the subject changed, she grasped his offer like a lifeline.
Don’t like to be on the other side of that mirror do you, Colby?
“We need to eat and it’s been a while since lunch.”
Her chin raised, the wariness in her eyes mingling with speculation. “I’m not much of a cook. Baking? I can bake with the best of them, but I’m more a takeout girl than I am a three course meal in the kitchen.”
Filing away the information, he nodded. “I’m perfectly capable of cooking a meal. My father made sure of it.” Then, because the intimate bubble around them seemed a little to claustrophobic when he refused to take any action while Luc was down for the count, he said, “What’s your favorite kind of takeout? We’ll make an adventure of it and go find you something.”
“Pad Thai.”
The suggestion left his mouth watering. “I have an idea. It’s a hike though, about an hour from here, but totally worth it. Do you trust me to see you through the rain and get you food?”
“You’ve had wine, too.” It wasn’t a rejection.
“I have,” he agreed. “But only half a glass.” Nowhere near enough to impair his reaction times. “I know the way, and I promise, you’ll be safe.” From everyone, even him.
“Does the place your thinking of serve real Pad Thai? Hot and spicy?”
He zeroed in on her lips. “Another thing we have in common.”
The thud of her heart increased, and her scent changed again, a hint of desire opening like a flower beneath it all. “Playing with fire?”
The words doused him, and he leashed the need being around her had awakened. “Apparently.” Extending his hand, he curled his fingers in invitation. “Shall we?”
“What the hell.” She reclaimed her glass then slid her palm across his. “But I’ll hold you accountable if the food sucks.”
“I don’t doubt it.” Reasonable fascination or not, Brett planned to enjoy the next several hours. After dinner, all he had to do was persuade her to stay for the night. An image of her sprawled against the sheets on his bed sent a pulse of need straight to his cock. Yes, she had to stay.
Until we can figure her out.
In that, he and his wolf were in full agreement.
N
o sun leaked
through the curtains when Colby fought her way groggily to wakefulness. She’d never been a fan of morning. One of the drawbacks to her community service had been a lack of control over her schedule. She’d preferred swing or graveyards to God help me too damn early. The lack of sunlight warned her it was likely in the too fucking early for humanity range, so she closed her eyes and burrowed into the pillows.
Drifting toward sleep, she rubbed her cheek against the soft jersey cotton of the pillowcase. Twin scents of jasmine and vanilla teased her nose. Florals weren’t her thing. She’d always had a sensitive nose and heavy perfumes or too sweet scents made her eyes water. The understated scent on the pillow comforted her though and underscored a more masculine, piney kind of cologne. A lot like what…
Awareness snapped her eyes open and she sat. Heart hammering, she stared at the unfamiliar wall. Even the gray light filling the room couldn’t remove the sensation of ‘homey’ versus ‘hotel.’ What bed had she gone to sleep in? And why did it smell like Brett? Twisting slowly, she glanced behind her and exhaled a long breath.
She was alone in the bed. Lifting the quilted blanket, she glanced beneath to find she wore a t-shirt and panties. Collapsing against the pillows, she rolled onto her back. The night before had turned out to be a lot of fun. After pausing for a quick phone call, Brett and she had driven to a lovely restaurant down the river. The rain seemed to insulate them from the outside world and they’d avoided all the difficult topics.
He turned out to be a charming companion, and knew a lot about the local area. Dinner more than satisfied her need for hot and spicy. Where she chose shrimp and tofu, he’d gone straight for the beef. Doubling their orders seemed a bit much, but then Brett pointed out she’d said she was a takeout kind of girl.
Twice during the meal, she’d caught him staring at her mouth and in all fairness, she’d been equally attracted to the sight of his lips. The tension coiling through him seemed to slough off by the end of the meal, yet they’d lingered and walked through the rain to a small coffee shop. It had been near midnight by the time they returned to his house—and she had no recollection of going to bed.
The idea of Brett undressing her and tucking her in sent a warm thrill curving around her belly. Despite the teasing allure of the idea, she didn’t think he’d done it. It wouldn’t have been the first time she put herself to bed by running on autopilot. Racing heart aside, she’d woken in worse places after even worse decisions.
Going to dinner with Brett wasn’t a bad decision.
They’d had fun. Based on his reactions, she suspected he hadn’t had a lot of fun recently. Draping her forearm over her closed eyes, she yawned.
So not ready to be awake…
A knock on the door intruded in her drifting and she groaned. Dammit, she was a guest. She couldn’t stay in bed all day. In fact, what she needed to do was get up, shower, dress and get her ass on the road. Florida seemed a hell of a long way to go, though. Rolling over, she shoved the blankets away then climbed out of the bed. Glaring at the light between the curtains, she rubbed a hand over her face then stumbled to the door.
Opening it a crack, she gazed at her host.
Goddammit.
He looked perfect. Dressed in a clean, nicely-pressed shirt with the top two buttons open to reveal the faint curls of dark against his chest and smelling like heaven, he looked good enough to eat. His hair wasn’t even damp, though it fell in a soft wave toward his forehead. He’d been up long enough to shower and dress—and he wore a smile.
“Ugh,” she sighed. “Please God, tell me you are not one of those happy morning people.”
The corner of his sensual mouth quirked higher. The effect on his expression devastated her sleepy senses. No human should ever look so damn good without coffee. The combination of rake and boy next door added to his appeal, but the trace of scars and mottled skin gave him a ruggedness she desperately wanted to smooth away. “I woke you.”
“Not exactly,” she admitted, rubbing her cheek against the door and leaning on it a little more heavily. Everything ached and she wanted to go back to sleep. “I’m used to getting by on a lot less sleep.” And rolling out of bed to go to work for eight hour shifts that, as often as not, turned into ten to twelve hours on her feet. “I think I am more tired than I thought.” She yawned the last three words and, when she glanced at him again, his expression softened.
Extending a finger, he traced the line of her cheek. It was a soothing motion, one which left her eyes half-closing in pleasure. “Go back to bed, Colby.” His voice washed over her. “I’ll be in my office working.”
“I can’t laze about in bed all day.” No matter how good it sounded.
“Why not?”
“Because…” She had to go to Florida or at least say her goodbyes. She was a guest, and not even an intentional one. “…Luc. I should probably check on him.”
“He’s fine. The doctor is with him.” The indulgence in his voice evaporated, but the steadiness in his tone remained. “Go back to sleep. When you wake up, come find me. We’ll have coffee.”
Tempting. So. So. Tempting.
“I’m up now…but coffee sounds like heaven. Really, really strong coffee.”
“Double pot? I made one. I can run it through again.”
Colby groaned at the idea. Now that he’d mentioned it, she could smell the coffee. It proved even more alluring than the sweet vanilla and jasmine entwining the pine of his cologne on her pillow. Releasing the door to stretch, she would have thumped her tail if she’d had one. “Yes, please, if it wouldn’t be too much to ask.”
Silence greeted her comment, and she found Brett gazing at her, rapt admiration in his eyes as he trailed his gaze down her body and up again.
Fuck me…
She still only wore a t-shirt and panties, and she’d just given him a show. “Crap. Sorry.” Slamming the door shut, she leaned against it. Adrenaline burned through the remaining traces of sleepiness—adrenaline and a healthy dose of lust. Having him look at her like that warmed her inside and out.
“Please.” His voice stroked her through the door. “Don’t apologize. I’ll go fix the coffee. Come and find me.”
The invitation had her toes curling, and she bit her lip. “I will,” she said, then added in a low whisper. “I promise.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
A shiver skated over her spine, and she closed her eyes. Maybe she should have invited him inside to go back to bed with her. Inappropriate as hell and impulsive, but she bet Brett would wake her even better than the coffee.
He already has…
T
en minutes
and a cold shower later, she changed into a clean shirt, bra and jeans. A glance out the window revealed the rain remained ensconced. She had shorts, but why wear them when the cold drizzle kept the day from warming? After making the bed, she packed her dirty clothes away and padded barefoot from the room. If her hair was longer, she’d braid it to keep it away from her face. As it was, she settled for finger combing it. Styling hair took a little more effort than she wanted to expend.
Not that digging out some pale lip gloss and her mascara hadn’t, but she ignored the why behind the action. The smell of coffee drew her like a magnet. The pot of deep black coffee waited for her as promised, but to her disappointment she didn’t see Brett. Quelling her uncertainty, she poured herself a cup. Cradling the hot mug of nirvana in between sips of the restorative elixir, she walked to the window overlooking the front yard.
Nothing had changed since she’d last glanced outside, yet it seemed different. The rich green of the grass shone even though the band of grey clouds overhead decried any possibility of sunshine. Flowers hung heavy on a trellis near the fence, the rain having pummeled them into submission. Like the backyard, trees lined the area and, though she knew two other houses were nearby, they weren’t immediately visible.
Brett’s place seemed to occupy its own world. The fanciful thought made her smile. Still hugging her coffee mug, she went in search of her elusive host. He’d told her to find him. Not locating him immediately in the sitting room or the room where they’d shared wine the night before—which she’d dubbed the library since it had bookshelves—she considered the stairs then the last hallway she hadn’t ventured down. He had a home office, maybe he’d had to take a call?
Halfway down the hall, a peal of feminine laughter stopped her in her tracks. The answering murmur of Brett’s deep baritone carried traces of affection sent her stomach plummeting. They had company.
Correction—
he
has company…
Backing up a step, she considered returning to the kitchen. Who came to see Brett or who he spent time with was none of her business.
The door opened before she could make good her escape. Brett filled the doorway and his gaze latched onto her like a physical caress. “You’re up. And you found the coffee.”
“I am.”
Cue the lame response.
“Thank you for making the coffee for me.”
“Oh, she’s here!” The sentence preceded the owner of the sweet, feminine voice appearing directly behind Brett. “Hello!”
Sunshine seemed to radiate from the diminutive woman. Despite the delicacy of her bone structure and slender weight, she blazed past Brett as though he weren’t there then extended her hand. Her grip was strong, warm and filled with the same simple incandescence as the woman grinning at her. “I am so delighted to meet you, Colby. It was Colby right?”
“Yes,” she admitted, trying not to let the beauty queen charm her.
This is the doctor?
Beauty and brains. Good God. Not to mention bright and chipper.
Damn.
“Doctor Chase?”
“Gillian, please.” She took a deep breath. “Oh, and that coffee smells delicious. Do you mind joining us in the kitchen while I get a cup, too?”
Impossible to say no to that.
Colby nodded. “Of course. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“You have no idea how great it is to meet you.” Taking charge, Gillian looped her arm through Colby’s. “I have heard nothing but the most glowing reviews about you.”
Really?
“Have you had a chance to check on Luc? I was worried the drive did more harm than good, and I thought the room he was in yesterday had a faint odor of infection, but I couldn’t check him.” The memory plunked some guilty strings in her soul. She’d all but forgotten Luc the night before, when she probably should have insisted on going to see him at the doctor’s place. Brett’s mother, Margie, was a nurse, or so they’d said, but still…
“He’s a grumpykins, but he will be fine. He had a bit of abscess that had to be drained, and we’ve fixed the casts. I think the surgeons who worked on him did a wonderful job.” In the kitchen, Gillian released her to head for the coffee. She located a mug in a cupboard then went for sugar and cream. No hesitation marked her movements. Colby’s stomach sank further. She was used to being in the home.
Behind her, Brett placed his hand on Colby’s lower back. The heat seemed to leave an imprint on her. At her glance, he grinned and murmured, “Don’t let Gillian overwhelm you. She forgets not everyone wakes up going ninety miles an hour.”
“I heard that.” Gillian made a face and stuck her tongue at him. The contrasting behavior of professional to childish glee earned a chuckle from Brett.
Instead of moving away, he remained right where he was. “I didn’t whisper, so I hope so.”
“Pfft.” Gillian poured coffee. “Where was I?” After adding three heaping spoons of sugar and some cream, she taste-tested her concoction. Colby’s stomach revolted when she added another spoonful of the sweetener. “Oh, abscess. That’s right. It’s been lanced, drained, and cleaned. I’ve added some high-dose antibiotics to his regimen, but he’ll be fine in a week.”
A week?
“You mean a few weeks, right?” Or maybe she meant the infection would be cleared out?
The room went silent then Gillian made a point of taking another drink of her coffee before meeting her gaze. “Of course. The antibiotics are for a week. He’s sleeping, or I’d say let’s all go over and check on him, but he should rest for now.” Her gaze traveled past Colby to Brett. “He
needs
rest and shouldn’t get too excited.”
“So you’ve said. Have you eaten, Gillian?” Yes, the man had a thing about feeding women. Maybe he just liked to feed people in general and it had nothing to do with her.
“Yes, Owen went out and found me those sausage and gravy biscuits I love.” Her eyes closed as she took in a deep breath, then she focused her blue gaze on Colby again. “I won’t linger. I know you were waiting for Colby to eat.”
He’d waited? She stole another look at him and he winked at her. The warmth in her stomach ballooned once more. So maybe he liked feeding everyone, but he’d waited to eat with her.
Doesn’t have to mean anything.
“Thank you, but you shouldn’t have. I’m not usually an early riser.”
“Tomorrow,” he promised. “I’ll remember to let you sleep later.”
“I appreciate it,” she agreed. He rubbed her back once then stepped around her.
“Are you a big breakfast eater or do you prefer something lighter?”
“Whatever you’re having is fine. You don’t have to go to so much trouble.”
“Let him,” Gillian advised, beckoning to her. “It’s fun when he cooks. He tends to curse a lot. We can sit here and be entertained while you tell me all about you.”
Before she’d really thought about it too hard, Colby took a seat at the breakfast nook and Gillian sat opposite her. Their host chuckled and opened the fridge. “Do you like fried eggs? Or scrambled?”
“Whatever—” His look froze the blow off answer in her throat. “Fried, actually. Over medium.”
His smile made the truth worth it, and she took another sip of her coffee before she kept staring at him like he was on the menu.
“So, you are going to school to be a nurse?” Gillian dragged her attention to her.
“I was, but…life has a way of diverting down interesting paths.” Like to the very kitchen she sat in. “I thought I’d check out the schools in Florida once I’m settled.”
“Florida has some okay schools. You should really look at the State University of New York here, they have some fantastic programs and outreach. I bet with your community service you could bypass a lot of your clinical hours, and get certified in no time.”