Seven Years (35 page)

“Nothing. I just wanted to see if you would,” I panted.

“Why, did someone not stop when you asked?”

“No.”

“I’m not an animal. If you say no, I back off. That’s the deal.”

My hands slid around the back of his neck and I smiled. Beckett had lied to me when he said a man couldn’t stop; he just didn’t
want
to with the other woman. I didn’t mean enough to him when I caught them having sex in the back of my car. But I meant enough to Austin.

“Don’t stop,” I pleaded.

When he sank on top of me, I couldn’t move. Austin shifted his hips teasingly as I wanted him back inside me. The heavy weight of his body held me right where he wanted, and he kissed me with a deep stroke of his tongue. It was a slow and steady burn.

The front door suddenly clicked open and Denver called out, “Hey, Aus. I know you missed me, so I’m chillin’ out with you guys tonight.” His keys jingled as he hung them on his nail by the door.

In the blink of an eye, I shifted into my wolf. Panic set in and the last thing I wanted was for one of his brothers to see me like that—naked on his tacky rug.

“The guys wanted me to stay here and watch over—”

Denver filled the doorway and my wolf snorted, wiggling around Austin’s naked body. One thing I’d learned was that I could remember the shifting, but only the first minute or two before my wolf took complete control.

Austin stood up erect (in every way) and faced his brother.

Denver’s jaw hung lax and his eyes were saucer-wide. He pointed a finger at me and I wagged my tail. “That is just
wrong
on so many levels. You need help, Austin. I’m outta here. You two do…
whatever
.”

The door slammed and I shifted back, staring up at Austin from all fours. “Great, now he thinks you’re into my wolf.”

Austin’s laugh filled the room—loud and full of life.

I glowered at him as he folded his arms and looked down at me.

“Aren’t you going to go after him and explain?”

His brows lifted thoughtfully. “No. Actually, it’s funnier if I don’t.”

Makeup (after getting shot) sex was the best sex I’d ever had
. Austin and I just fit in a way I couldn’t explain. An undeniable chemistry existed between us—not just physically, but mentally. And in some ways, emotionally. Everyone has a person in life that just “gets them.” They get all your idiosyncrasies, inside jokes, tells, and the subtext that lies beneath a comment or a wink of an eye. They know you inside out and upside down.

Austin got me.

We spent the next three weeks moving everything from their old place, Mom’s house, and my apartment, over to the fixer-upper that Austin had purchased. Maybe it needed a little work, but it was cozy with charm and personality. It was a place I could call home.

Mom quit her job so she could help get the house in order in addition to feeding the crew of hungry men. In return, Austin not only compensated her with a room, but insisted that he pay her. Mom felt weird about it at first, but I convinced her what she was doing was legitimate work. Shopping, laundry, cooking, decorating—all in addition to becoming the matriarch of the house. I didn’t think the arrangement would last; eventually Mom would insist she was doing it because she loved to. It was a good way to get her mind off my dad and everything that had transpired. I never found out what Lorenzo had done with him, and I didn’t want to know.

“Denny! Time for ice cream,” Maizy called out from the bottom of the stairs.

“Mr. Denny,” I corrected her.

“No. That’s Mr. Reno,” she said, pointing to Reno as he carried a bright red toolbox down the hallway. “And then there’s Mr. Cole, Mr. Jericho, Mr. Wheeler, Mr. Ben, and Denny! He’s not a Mister. He’s just Denny.”

“Why?”

Maizy shrugged. “’Cause he just is,” she argued with six-year-old logic.

“Why don’t you and Denny go treasure hunting for diamonds?” I suggested.

Denver did a little hop step coming down the stairs, wearing tattered jeans, flip-flops, and a Pink Floyd shirt.

“Jericho’s going to kill you if he catches you wearing that,” I said.

He brushed his fingers through his short locks of sandy-blond hair. “Yeah, yeah. Been hearing that for decades. They sell this stuff vintage on the Internet.”

“I’m ready!” Maizy called out from the doorway. Actually, she was swinging on the door, holding onto the brass knobs and wrapping her legs around either side.

“Are you stopping by the old house today to see if she’ll show you where she buried those diamonds?” I asked him in a quiet voice.

“For what?”

“Because she may forget someday, and that’s fifty million in your backyard.”

“So? It’s just money,” he said, fishing out his wallet. Denver thumbed through a few bills, doing a count. “Think it’ll make your life better? No, it’ll make it complicated. People covet money and do stupid shit over it. We’re happy, we got a house, and I need to get this girl a strawberry cone before she tears up the door,” he said, flip-flopping across the main room. “Skedaddle!” he barked at her.

Maizy squealed and ran out the front door toward his yellow pickup.

Denver had taken over as her watchdog, and apparently it wasn’t uncommon in a pack for a wolf to step in as the protector for a fatherless child or woman. It wasn’t a parental role, as Denver was more of a brother to her, but it gave me peace of mind knowing my family would be looked after. A pack bonded in ways humans didn’t, and it was a way of life that felt natural the more I became immersed in it.

I heard coins jingling and spun around. Austin stood in the hallway, twirling the key ring around his finger and giving me a peculiar look.

“What?”

“Busy?” he asked.

“Well, I was going to go to the movies later with Naya. I think she misses me being right next door. She mentioned something about how the new tenant that just moved in is seventy and single. Plus, I need to talk to her about the whole Shifter thing she kept from me.” I gave him a look. “Why?”

“Let’s take a drive,” he said, holding my hand and lacing his fingers with mine.

My brown summer skirt swished below my knees and matched the bohemian sleeveless top that tied behind my neck. I didn’t wear skirts outside of work, and I could tell Austin enjoyed seeing me in something feminine. He didn’t mention where we were going, so I rolled the windows down in his black muscle car and switched on the radio.

“Wheeler helping you sort things out?” he asked.

“He seems reluctant to get involved, but he’s helped me out with a few things. Maybe I won’t be so bad running a business after all; I’m learning a lot.”

Once the initial shock had worn off, April totally stepped up to the challenge. I bought a cell phone so she could call me at any time, and we had live meetings on the Internet. The first order of business was that she lost her cherry earring, and that segued into a discussion about our work gear, which I didn’t want to change.

April seemed to be going through some personal problems. I wasn’t sure if it was family or money, but I could hear it in her voice. I wished she’d open up to me, but some people had a harder shell to crack. She revealed she had been riding the city bus to work because her car had crapped out. I didn’t much care for that because April closed the shop late at night. She also had a fear of the dark, which is why she always went in the back room and turned on the main lights. I offered her my car, but she wouldn’t accept. April was like that—never accepted help from others. You can’t force your help on someone; you just have to trust they know what they’re doing. We went over the current state of affairs with the shop and I couldn’t help but start mentally planning the future of Sweet Treats.

“Okay, that’s it. Where are you taking me, Austin?”

He grinned fiercely with pressed lips, giving me the impression he had a secret. Austin had a very subtle cleft in his chin that was always more prominent when he did the lip-press thing.

The car rolled up to a rest stop just off the highway. The kind with dilapidated picnic tables and foul-smelling restrooms.

“Need to go to the little boy’s room?” I teased.

The engine purred to a stop and butterflies fluttered in my belly when I saw a group of men standing beneath a Texas live oak tree, watching us. Austin walked around the car to open my door and I realized he was taking me to them. I pulled the visor down to fix my lipstick.

“You look fine,” he said with a soft laugh, tugging my arm.

Tiny pebbles on the concrete scattered as I dragged my sandals across the sidewalk. Then Lorenzo turned around and a golden shower of sunlight melted across his shoulders, illuminating his dramatic features. Skin taut around his chiseled cheekbones—high and proud—and straight brown hair that touched the top of his skull and crossbones tattoo on his upper arm. He wasn’t smiling.

Austin squeezed my hand reassuringly. “Don’t worry, they don’t bite.”

Only Austin could make me laugh in the face of danger.

“Cole, we didn’t know if you changed your mind,” the older man said, staring at his watch. “She’s a fine-looking bitch.”

Austin’s arm stiffened, but he made no attempt to correct the man. That’s when I knew this guy held a higher rank. Perhaps there was a pecking order among the Packmasters.

Including Lorenzo, there was a total of four men. One was a tall, handsome black man with swoon-worthy eyes and freckles across his cheeks. The other guy looked like someone had picked him up at a truck stop—scruffy beard, shaggy hair, and sloppy clothes. The older man who’d spoke to Austin was a Sean Connery body double; I was certain of it.

“I’ve brought the Packmasters from neighboring territories here to be witness,” Sean Connery said.

“Uh, wait a second,” I interrupted, getting cold feet all of a sudden as to what exactly was about to go down. “Witness to what?”

“She doesn’t even know why she’s here?” Lorenzo said through clenched teeth.

And with one subtle gesture, Austin put Lorenzo in his place. He lifted our clasped hands and slowly kissed the back of my fingers, keeping his eyes locked on Lorenzo. A gesture that sent an unequivocal message to everyone present—I was
his
.

“What’s your name?” The older man looked me over and arched a brow.

“Alexia Knight.”

“Full name.”

I flicked a glance at Lorenzo. “Alexia Talulah Knight.”

He scribbled something in a small booklet and handed it to me with the pen. “I’ll need your signature to show that you’re entering this pack of your own free will until such time as you see fit to leave. If any Shifter commits a crime against you, then your pack has full rights to seek justice on your behalf.”

I signed my name and handed it back to him. He gave it to Austin. “By signing your name, you agree to watch over this young Shifter as a member of your pack, look after her well-being, and protect her with your life.”

On that note, Austin signed the paper, tapped the pen against it, and flipped it back around to the man. Didn’t even blink.

“Is that it?” I asked.

The Packmaster laughed so hard it sounded like a wheeze. “She’s funny,” he said to Austin, tucking the pen behind his ear. “Alexia Talulah Knight, I hereby declare you an official member of the Weston pack. How’s that? Official enough for you? I’ll be sure to circulate the news. Come on boys, let’s leave these two alone,” he said, laughing into a fit of coughs.

As Lorenzo crossed in front of me, he stopped and brushed his hand tenderly across my cheek. He looked at me differently now, as if he had accepted the decision and decided to pursue me no further.

“Take care, Alexia. You should come visit with your family sometime.”

His eyes slid over to Austin and they exchanged a look before Lorenzo walked off and got in his black truck.

“That felt weird,” I finally admitted. “Like we just got hitched or something.”

“Would that be so bad?”

My face turned red and I looked down at my shoes. “Depends if you leave the seat up or down.”

Austin wrapped his arm around me and we started walking. “Come on, smartass. Let’s go for a ride.”

***

The summer wind was a fragrant perfume on my skin, filled with the aromatic scent of sunshine and freshly cut grass. The sun dipped low in the western sky, casting a radiant gold across my arms and hair. We drove into a rural area and Austin pulled over on a dirt road by an overlook. He reached in the back seat and grabbed a few things I hadn’t noticed before, bundling them under his left arm.

“What are you up to?” I asked, clicking open the door.

“No,” he warned, pointing his finger.

I let go of the handle and watched Austin walk around the front of the car, never removing his eyes from mine. He opened my door like a gentleman and draped his arm over the top of the frame, letting his eyes drag down the length of my body.

“I like that skirt on you,” he said with a suggestive wink. I thought the delivery of his compliment was all off because my skirt didn’t show much leg.

Austin reached in the back and messed around with some things before slamming the door. He casually walked toward a grassy area near the slope of a hill and spread out a quilt in the sun. The car was just a few feet behind us, the engine popping and clicking from the heat.

It felt good to kick off my shoes and sit down. “This is nice.”

“It gets nicer,” he promised, placing an oversized paper bag in the middle.

He reached in and pulled out a bucket of fried chicken.

“Oh my God, Austin Cole. I love you.”

He smirked while taking a seat on the blanket. “Is that all it took? Had I known it was that easy, I would have given you a breast and a thigh a long time ago.”

A large container of coleslaw appeared, along with a cooler full of ice-cold bottles of root beer. Then he slowly pulled out a few cups of chocolate pudding and winked. “This is for later.”

We shared the coleslaw and I picked out the best-looking piece of chicken. Austin laughed at how particular I was.

It was a perfect moment, and a light breeze cooled my back as I finished up the last bit of my meal and sucked down some of the root beer.

“Baby, you treat me so good,” I said, smiling at him warmly.