Six Months (19 page)

I’m not sure if tickling a man is ever a good idea, because he had a knee-jerk reaction and almost bucked me off the bed. He gripped the hem of my jeans and pulled me fast into his arms. I curled up beside him, my head resting on his shoulder and my right arm draped across his bare chest like a sash. I tried to be subtle as I inhaled so Reno wouldn’t notice I was sniffing him, but I couldn’t help but think he smelled inexplicably wonderful.

“Why do you have a man on your wall?”

My eyes skimmed over to the poster. “That’s not a man. That’s Billy Joel.”

“Old boyfriend?” he asked.

“That would be some serious cradle robbing if that was true.”

He paused. “How old are you?”

I wondered if age mattered to him. Reno looked to be in his thirties. “I’ll be twenty-three soon. What are your favorite foods?”

“Mexican, and sometimes Thai,” he said.

My ear pressed against his chest and the rumbling vibrations tickled my cheek when he spoke. It was comforting to feel and hear him up close.

“Thai is unusual. I had Vietnamese food once.”

He chuckled. “Not the same. What about you?”

“My favorite is home cooking. Beef stew, casseroles, greens—all that good Southern food. Not many restaurants around here specialize in that unless they’re a chain. It’s all fast food.”

Reno mumbled in agreement. “How many men have you dated?”

“One.” I replied quickly before my inner voice piped up and I chickened out.

He stopped breathing. “
One?
”

I could feel his heart pounding against my forearm. “I didn’t date until I went to college. One Saturday, I went to the movies with my sister and ran into this dashing young man in the lobby and spilled his popcorn. We talked for a few minutes before the movie started and exchanged numbers, but I didn’t think he’d call me.”

“How serious was it?”

Did I hear jealousy in his voice?

“He was… well, he was my first. Things were beginning to get serious between us, or so I thought. But then he started cheating on me. I know a lot of men cheat, but he did it frequently with my best friend and we haven’t spoken since then.”

“I don’t believe that. Only one man has ever seen you naked?”

That was an embarrassing way to put it. It felt like a hot spotlight was burning down on me.

“Do Shifters get married?”

Reno rubbed the side of his nose and angled his body toward me. A burst of tingles moved down my body, and I thought about the restrained passion in our kiss. “Something like that. All a man has to do is declare a woman as his mate and his pack will respect their union. We don’t use rings or tattoos to prove we’re mated. If someone asks, we tell them. Usually what happens is the couple will gather with the local Packmasters to witness their vows.”

“What are the vows you say?”

Reno shrugged. “I’ve never been to one. I don’t think there’s a script or anything,” he said with a chuckle. “They probably take a vow to protect and die for each other. They sign a document to keep it on record in case there are disputes within the pack or other troubles. Word usually spreads and most of us don’t encroach on someone’s territory. We mate for life.”

“So no dress or church?”

“Our customs aren’t the same as yours. Being life mates isn’t about a party.”

I smiled and thought about how much money humans spent on weddings. “Did Lexi mate with Austin?”

His breath warmed the top of my head as he spoke. “Yeah. Austin’s claim on her is as good as gold, but her mother wants a wedding. I didn’t ask if they signed the papers, but all the local packs know they’re life mates. Nobody messes with a Packmaster’s woman.”

“Well, if she has a wedding, I hope I’m invited.”

“April? Do you want to get serious with me?”

The music faded and thunder rolled outside. My finger traced a small circle on his chest. “I won’t live as long as you will, and I’m guessing by how old you implied you are that you age slowly. I don’t. Let’s enjoy tonight, because I’m not sure if by tomorrow I’m going to feel the same way as I do right now in your arms. We’re too different for this to work.”

“I like different,” he said, brushing his right hand through my hair.

“And in thirty years when I’m fifty, are you still going to like different?”

Reno didn’t answer.

When I opened my eyes, I found myself bathed in a pool of sunlight
. The magic of the night before with the soft orange glow of the lamp, the feel of Reno’s warm body beside mine, the newness of my life, and the sound of blues music had melted away into a distant echo. It brought a pang of sadness because I had fallen deeply in love with a shining moment in my life, one I would treasure in my mind for years to come. Not just discovering that the world wasn’t what I thought it was, but allowing someone to give me hope again.

When Reno had fixed my leak, bought me food, and hung a pretty curtain in my doorway, it returned a normalcy that I had long desired. I’d spent so much time focusing on getting away from my life, and Reno made me see that I could have everything I wanted right here. Living better was a state of mind that only required a few extra dollars, not a fancy job that paid a lot of money. It reminded me that I wouldn’t always have this debt, and if I worked hard enough, I’d eventually have a place of my own, one that wasn’t a hand-me-down, maybe even a house.

Last night had surpassed anything I had read in my romance novels or imagined in my fantasies because it was real, and it was mine.

I stretched out my legs beneath the crisp sheets. I had no recollection of how my jeans got removed, but my socks and black shirt were untouched. Reno’s side of the bed was neatly made—the bedspread was pulled so tight I could bounce a quarter off it.

I reached for my phone to check my messages. Nothing from Trevor.

Reno hadn’t left a note, but the keys to his truck were on my kitchen table in front of a red apple. I snatched the fresh fruit and took a few juicy bites. With the money deposited into the Sweet Treats account, I now had to turn my attention to Sanchez. Instead of calling, because I’d go ballistic at him for what he did to Trevor, I left a text message of where to meet me for the exchange.

My
terms.

If he wanted more cash, then he needed to tell me before our meeting. I had no intentions of showing up only to find out I was going to be short on my payment. No more negotiations; this would be the
final
transaction.

Screw his abandoned warehouses and screw his mind games. If he wanted his money, then he’d have to meet me at the
mall
. I wasn’t about to get myself chopped up into pieces, never to be found again, because I’d decided to meet a maniac alone. I’d learned my lesson after the first time and wanted to take every precaution. This wasn’t something I had any experience doing, and if he continued coming after me, I’d either buy a gun or call the police. I had little faith the cops would do much outside of filing a report, and I was uncertain if I’d done something illegal in doing business with a loan shark. I didn’t know the laws, but if they found out I’d taken money out of the business account, I’d really be in legal trouble. The most I could get against Sanchez would probably be a restraining order, and a lot of good that would do me living alone in the parks.

I took a quick shower and put on a pair of knee-length shorts, sneakers, and a sweatshirt. A clip held some of my bangs away from my face and I passed on the perfume and makeup. I had no desire to look or smell attractive for this man. Unfortunately, his money was in my brown purse, so I headed over to Lexi’s to pick it up.

An hour later, I arrived at Austin’s house and knocked on the door. I heard the sound of heavy footsteps approaching and the door swung open.

My eyes traveled upward, landing on a stern-looking man with lots of tattoos on his arms. A wolf, justice scales, a dagger—a myriad of images were married to his flesh and created a staggering display of imagery. A black sleeveless shirt hugged his body and it was then that I noticed his eyes. They were the palest of brown with flecks of gold in the irises. They glittered like amber and warm honey, standing out against his dark features and brooding expression. I glanced at his bare feet as he leaned on the doorjamb and stared down his nose at me.

“What a pleasure to see you again, April,” he said insincerely.

What the heck did I ever do to this guy?
Ben might have been a flirtatious handful, but Wheeler was too belligerent for my liking.

“I left my purse upstairs and came by to pick it up.”

His eyes scratched down the length of my body with a judgmental sting. “Speaking of pickups, is that
our
truck you’re driving around?”

A flush of heat touched my cheeks. “Reno lent it to me.”

“That so?”

I looked directly into his eyes and stared. Didn’t blink, didn’t look away. I wasn’t in the mood for games—not after everything I’d been through in the last twenty-four hours. I also didn’t like imperious jackasses who sought to deflect attention from their own problems by instigating verbal warfare against someone else. His brows sloped down at a menacing angle and he tipped his head to the side, neither of us speaking a word as the sound of a distant airplane flew overhead.

“Wheeler, you’re letting all the cold air out. Who’s at the… oh, April! Please come in,” Ivy insisted, nudging Wheeler out of the way and taking my hand. “Would you like some tea? I just took it out of the sun.”

“No, thanks. I can’t stay. I left in a hurry and forgot my purse, so I stopped by to pick it up.”

Her full lips curled in as she licked them, and she glared at Wheeler with intolerant eyes while he held up the doorframe, still scorching me with a heated gaze.

“Then you’ll join us for dinner,” she insisted. “Lexi feels terrible about the party and talked about having you over for dinner. I make a delicious pot roast and I’d love to have you join us.” She briefly glanced at Wheeler. “I think it’s no secret what we are. We’re no different from you, April. We have our own issues and disputes, but we also have unity and value a family environment. A pack in itself is a family, but we mate for life and work out our differences. I’m sure if Jericho had laced cupcakes at a human party, it could have gotten out of hand very quickly, but the Packmasters kept us in line and broke up the party at the first sign of trouble.
Please
,” she said, reaching out to hold my wrist. “I insist we make it up to you. Will you give us a second chance? You’re a loyal friend to Lexi and she thinks highly of you.”

Wheeler turned around and muttered, “Didn’t take you for a pet lover, Ivy.”

Her serene face showed that he hadn’t ruffled her feathers. “Is seven o’clock okay? We’ll have white wine and talk on the porch after supper. It’ll be a relaxed atmosphere and a good time, so what you’re wearing is fine. Come with me. Let’s get your purse and you can think it over.”

***

Ivy had been blessed with the gift of convincing people to do things they didn’t want to do. At least she wasn’t asking me to go skydiving. I agreed to stop by later that evening and have dinner with the pack, and she extended the invitation to Trevor.

When I arrived at the mall to meet with Sanchez, I looked as if I’d just rolled out of bed in my long shorts and sweatshirt. All the teens were glammed up, parading around in their satiny lipstick and designer jeans, hoping to grab the attention of one of the hot boys hanging out by the music shop.

My purse strap bit into my shoulder and I nervously turned a bracelet on my wrist as I glided up the escalator. Once I reached the top, I walked past the pizzeria and hamburger vendors. We needed to complete the exchange in a more private area, so I’d instructed Sanchez to meet me by the barbecue station at the far end. This felt like something out of an espionage movie, except there was no James Bond and my hands were shaking like an epileptic’s.

My heart skipped like a stone when I saw Sanchez sitting at one of the plastic tables with an empty plate in front of him. I glanced at the clock wondering if I was late, but I was early this time.

“Take a seat, Vanilla,” he said in a curt tone.

I bit my tongue for all the things I wanted to say to him about Trevor. “Here’s the deal,” I began as my inner voice sank down in her chair and covered her face. “None of this is legal. I’m sure you have a little leeway from your boss to garner a tip, but Delgado might not be too thrilled with how much extra cash you’re making on the side.”

Sanchez rubbed the patch of hair on his chin with his middle finger, showing me his bottom teeth.

I cleared my throat and reached in my purse, pulling out a small box with a bow on it. “Happy birthday. Every penny. And not that you even care, but I had a good reason for not showing up. If you ever touch my friend again, or anyone else I care about, I’ll kill you.” My face hardened like stone, and his eyes sharpened like razors as he watched me deliver my threat.

I slid the box in front of him and he glimpsed inside.

“It’s all there,” I assured him. “I’d be foolish to short you, given everything that’s happened. I’m not threatening you, but I’m stating a fact about your boss. You know the guys running the show don’t like to find out they’re losing money. Don’t come by my house. Don’t call me. Don’t accidentally run into me at a music store. You’re getting
more
than enough, and you’ve already taken more than enough from me. I have nothing left to give you and this has put me in further debt. You’ll get nothing else—money or otherwise. I’m sure you saw an opportunity with me being young and naïve, but I’m not playing that game anymore.”

I folded my arms and sat back, waiting for him to pull out a butcher knife and put me on the six-o’clock news. There had come a point in my unprepared speech when I’d realized that I could never appease a man like Sanchez. Begging or bartering would only maintain a relationship with him I no longer wanted. The only way out was to be firm and show him my verbal middle finger. Then I could decide how many states I needed to move away.

He peered in the box again and leaned in tight. “You think you’re one smart bitch, Vanilla. But you know what I see? A loser with cheap nail polish and a bad dye job. You’re nothing but a secondhand girl who’s going to wind up working one shitty job after the next and marrying an alcoholic who uses you for a punching bag. So you’re going to get what you deserve, one way or the other. There’s nothing special about you.” He stood up from his chair and tucked the box beneath his arm. “You’re going to live and die in that trailer.”

Sanchez tipped his chair over when he walked off with an intentional swing in his step, trying to convey how tough he was.

He looked more like a man suffering from hemorrhoids.

I blew out a breath and felt an overwhelming sense of relief. I almost regretted not having someone there to witness how well I’d handled myself.

“It’s over,” I whispered. Now I just had to pay off Maddox for the rest of my life. My inner voice might have fainted, but I was proud of myself. Trevor would have been proud too.

***

“I’m so glad you came!” Lexi greeted me in a casual pair of black shorts and a cotton shirt with quarter-length sleeves. I was glad it wasn’t formal because all I had on were a pair of jeans and a pretty blouse. She swung the front door wide open and smiled warmly. The Weston house smelled like heaven—a mixture of delicious meat in the oven and potpourri from a small vase on a table by the stairs.

I noticed a pile of shoes in the hall and kicked my sandals off. I hadn’t heard from Reno all day and I wondered if he would be joining us.

Lexi led me through the living room and into the kitchen. The cabinets and appliances were straight ahead, and to the right by a wall of windows was a long wooden table with bench seating. Most people these days just grabbed dinner and went to their corners, but it looked as though they made a concerted effort to have family meals. Someone had strung up tiny white lights above the tall windows behind the table. The windows were curtainless and probably brought in an ample amount of sunlight. A clamor of noise made me jump and I glanced at an overflow of pans pouring out of a lower cabinet.

“Sorry about that,” Ivy said.

I admired the white daisies on the table that were in clear jars filled with water. The room had a restaurant atmosphere with all the casualness of home. The kitchen appeared significantly larger than the dining room, and then I remembered this had once been used as a hotel. Perhaps people had eaten in their rooms.

“Smells heavenly,” I said, glancing toward the stove on my left. Ivy scooped something onto a plate and turned off a burner.

“Here, try this,” Lexi said, handing me a glass of wine. “This is the first white wine I’ve ever loved. Tell me what you think.”

I took a short sip to be polite. “Mmm. It’s more sweet than dry.”

“Exactly. Austin thinks it tastes like fruit juice and should be served at the kiddie table,” she said, rolling her eyes.