For us.
“I don’t think I can leave.”
I didn’t want to answer to Liam, and I wasn’t sure how I would get around this if I stayed, but I wasn’t ready to abandon August, Evelyn, or Jeb. I didn’t want to lose the ability to transform into a powerful beast, nor leave the home I’d just gotten back.
August clasped my chin with heartbreaking tenderness. “I need you to be perfectly certain about this.”
“This?”
“Staying. Being with me.” He ran his thumb over my lower lip. “I want you as my mate, Ness. Not tonight. Not tomorrow, but before the Winter Solstice. I need to know if you want this too. Because this isn’t a simple crush. At least, not for me.”
He was talking about forever. Forever scared the hell out of me. “I’ve never even been in a relationship, August.”
“So you’re not ready?”
“Because you are?”
“I’ve been with other people. I know what’s out there, and I understand how precious what I’ve been given is. How precious you are.” He caressed my cheek.
“I want to be with you, August—only you—and I have seen what’s out there. I’m not settling for you because you happen to be around and magically connected to me. But I don’t want to promise you forever, because that scares me.” I moistened my dry lips with the tip of my tongue. “If that’s not enough for you—”
His hand scooped up the back of my head and pressed my face closer to his, interrupting the flow of my thoughts and words. Against my lips, he whispered, “Only me.”
“Only you,” I murmured to the man lying beside me, so familiar and yet a complete stranger.
He crushed his mouth to mine, and the rope that bound us drew me nearer and nearer. I didn’t know if he’d reeled me in or if I’d done that. All I knew was that each one of our bones aligned; each inch of our flesh molded together to the point where it was impossible to distinguish where one of us began and the other ended.
And that—fitting so perfectly with someone—scared me more than anything, because if we ended, it would tear up more than just our hearts. It would tear up our very bodies.
47
Sleep fell over me as quietly as dawn crept over the horizon and kept me in its arms the same way August kept me in his. I felt safe and calm and sated in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time. All we’d done was kiss, our fingers not venturing across the acres of skin that were now ours to explore. I sensed August was worried of frightening me by going too fast.
I appreciated the slowness. Everything with Liam had been rushed. We’d kissed as though we were out of time, and in a way, we had been, even though neither of us had known it then.
As the sun crested higher into the sky, I stroked August’s long fingers splayed on my stomach, keeping me pinned to him, thinking of the awful recording, dwelling on how low men could sink to keep what they believed was theirs, and then I thought of my father wanting to be Alpha.
I found it strange that he’d coveted leadership. Had he desired this to bring me into the pack like Heath insinuated, or had it been a life goal? Had my mother known his intentions?
My mother who’d been another man’s mate . . .
As I lay with the one who was supposed to be mine, I wondered if resisting the pull had been difficult. Perhaps it hadn’t been such a feat considering her mate was neither gentle nor sweet. The fact that she’d managed, though, reassured me that I hadn’t ended up in August’s bed because of any magic. If August had been a violent narcissist, I would’ve kept my distance.
As though he’d felt me thinking of him, he stirred behind me, and the fingers I was caressing crimped my T-shirt and hoisted me a little higher up his body. I smiled, knowing the reason he’d readjusted me . . . having felt the reason against my tailbone. His lips connected with my shoulder blade and laid the warmest and softest kiss that penetrated through the barrier of cotton and skin, and then those lips moved to the slope of my neck and pressed a tantalizing kiss there, and then he nipped his way higher, to the sensitive place right behind my earlobe.
Still smiling, I spun in his arms to face him.
He returned my smile, a hesitant version of it, though, that had my heart beating double-time.
“No regrets?” he finally asked.
“No.”
He ran a knuckle down my cheek, dipping it into my dimple before curving it around my jaw.
“What about you?” I asked.
“My only regret is that morning has come.”
“Are you worried I’ll turn into a pumpkin?”
He laughed, and then he pressed that beautiful, laughing mouth of his against mine and spilled the deep notes of his joy inside me. As the kiss deepened, the shape of his mouth changed, uncurled, opened. He pulled me into him, all of me, from my tongue to my body. When the bulge that strained his sweatpants pushed against my thighs, he disconnected our mouths and pressed me slightly away as though afraid to bruise me.
He studied my face, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. “I’m going to be saving lots on water heating.”
I studied him back. From his pupils ringed with brown that melted into the brightest green flecked with gold, to the scattering of chocolate freckles on his light-brown skin, to the dark auburn stubble on his oblong jaw, to the faint scar left over from my nighttime attack.
“I’ll make up for your cold showers by taking extra hot ones,” I said.
His pupils dilated, and his nose flicked mine. “Planning on showering here again, huh?”
Heat engulfed me. What in the world had prompted me to say that? “No. Um. Only if I get stranded—”
“I hope you’ll get stranded often then.” He smiled while I tried to rein back the rising heat. “I might even arrange for it to happen.” He deposited a brief and searing kiss on my mouth that did absolutely nothing to cool me off.
“I’m going to need a cold shower too,” I mumbled.
“I’d suggest taking one together, but that would defeat the purpose.”
“It really would.”
He combed another lock off my face, lifted my hair, then released it, watching as each strand fluttered down. “Do you think it might be real gold?”
I gave a very unladylike snort. “I wouldn’t be riddled with debt if it were.”
His gaze turned guarded. “You said you didn’t—”
“It’s nothing.” I bit my lower lip. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
“How much?”
“Not telling you.”
“Why not?”
“Because, it’s personal.”
“So are we. How much?”
“Please, leave it alone.”
He rolled into a sitting position. “Fine. I’ll leave it alone.”
My lips fell open at how swiftly he’d relented. “Thank you.”
“Mm-hmm.” He scooted to the foot of the bed, then swung himself around and latched onto the ladder. “Going to take that much needed shower now. And I’ll put a pot of coffee on.”
I propped myself onto my elbows. “Hey, can you text Jeb to find out if he’s home? I need to get back into the apartment.”
“Will do.”
I lay back down for a moment and watched the play of light and shadows on the concrete ceiling, wondering what I was supposed to do with myself now that I was staying—not professionally-speaking, but pack-speaking. Would I have to attend gatherings? How had yesterday’s ended? If only I had my phone, I’d call Sarah. I was never leaving the house without it or my keys from now on, or my wallet for that matter. I prided myself on being street smart, but if I truly had been, I’d have taken my bag with me last night. I pressed my fingers into the still-warm duvet, watching the indent they left behind. Then again, if I’d taken my bag, I wouldn’t have slept on this cloud of a bed, cocooned against a sexy shifter. The mere thought of the night had my body murring—the wolf’s version of a purr.
When the percolator began gurgling, I got out of bed and stretched, before climbing down the ladde
r. The hardwood floor was cool beneath my feet, but the air was delightfully warm. I spied my dress on one of the kitchen barstools and debated whether to put the itchy thing back on but elected to keep August’s T-shirt. It was comfier than tulle and long enough to cover my ass.
I padded into the kitchen and looked through cupboards until I found the one with mugs. No two recipients were alike. I shuffled them around, smiling at some of the slogans printed on them. I sucked in a breath when my gaze settled on a thick muck-green mug. I took it out and just stared at it.
Ceramic wasn’t magical—unlike stinky wooden fossils—and yet this particular mug held magic. It made time reverse. I was sitting behind a pottery wheel, my hair in two long braids. Unlike most of the other kids who were making something for their parents, I’d decided to craft something for August. I stroked the glazed handle, the same way August had touched it when I’d given it to him seven years ago.
I set the mug down reverently, then filled it with coffee, the first sip of which had me moaning softly.
Something beeped, and then a door swept open. I froze, mug clutched in midair.
“Auggie, I brought—” Cole stopped talking when he spotted me.
We blinked at each other, and then another door groaned, and August strolled into the kitchen, a towel wrapped casually around his hips, the scent of his sandalwood soap almost choking me. Or maybe my increased heartbeats were choking me.
As August banged around behind me, probably getting himself a mug for the coffee, I considered ducking behind the island in the hopes that Cole would unsee me.
“It’s not what it looks like,” I blurted out.
But then I felt the heat of August’s still damp body against my back. “It’s exactly what it looks like.”
Oh . . . God, strike me down. Because He didn’t, I elbowed August gently and stepped to the side so that he wasn’t glued so conspicuously to my backside.
A shit-eating grin rose to Cole’s lips as he walked over to us. “Damn.”
I tried to reason it could’ve been worse. It could’ve been Nelson or Isobel who’d come through that door instead of Cole.
“Mom sends muffins.” He dropped a plastic container on the island. “I send my congratulations.”
Had someone turned up the heat? Because I was pretty certain I’d started perspiring. I set my mug down. Holding hot coffee wasn’t helping my sweating situation. Self-consciously, I tugged on the hem of my T-shirt. Not that Cole could see my legs with an island between us. I really wished it were a real island—palm trees and sand dunes and all.
Holy crap. I really did have a thing for palm trees apparently.
“Um.” I pivoted around. “August, can we talk a second?” In private, I mouthed.
His gaze left Cole’s and set back on me. The power of it, combined with the smug smile gracing his lips, sent me into cardiac arrest zone.
“Sure thing.” He tipped his head toward the bathroom door.
I all but raced toward it.
“I can leave if you guys want,” Cole said while taking a seat on one of the barstools.
“We’ll only be a minute,” I reassured him.
“One minute?” Cole gave an amused snort. “All those weeks of sexual frustration taking a toll, huh?”
August flipped him off as he trailed me. I shut the door and locked it, even though it was ridiculous. It wasn’t as though Cole would barge in. I unlocked it.
“Let me guess, you want me to change the door code?”
“What? No. I mean . . . maybe.” I dragged my hand through my hair. “But that’s not what I wanted to discuss.”
He crossed his arms in front of his broad, broad chest. I tweaked the inside of my wrist to refocus myself, but a glimpse into the foggy mirror nulled the effect of the pinch. The glass was clearing, so I could see August’s V-shaped back which was frankly just as alluring as his front.
“You okay, sweetheart?”
I twisted my hair into a long rope to lift it from my neck before my skin could scorch it right off. “Um. Yes, but . . . ”
“You don’t want people finding out about us?”
I nodded a little maniacally.
“Why?”
“Because. Liam and I, we just broke up—”
“Happened three weeks ago.”
Had it already been three weeks? Okay, good. At least I wasn’t a total tramp. “Can we still keep it on the down-low for now? Just a couple weeks . . . ”
August leaned back against the white enamel sink top, one eyebrow cocked up. “Why?”
“Because . . . ”
“Because what?”
Ugh. Why couldn’t he just go with it? “Because I’m afraid to hurt Liam’s feelings.”
“He wasn’t afraid to hurt yours.”
“I walked in on him. It wasn’t like he flaunted his hookup in my face—”
“I wasn’t talking about the hookup. I was talking about what went down at Tracy’s.” There was a jagged edge to his deep voice. “Ness, do you still have feelings for him?”
“What?” I blinked. “No.”
“You sure?”
“Of course I’m sure.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed once, twice. Then he sighed, pushed off the sink top, and took a step toward me. His arms came loose before wrapping around my waist.
I tipped my head up. “Why would you think that?”
“Because I’m jealous, and it’ll probably get worse, although I’m not sure how that would work considering I already want to wring the neck of anyone who so much as looks your way.” He tipped his head to the door. “Cole included.”
“You don’t have to be jealous. I promise. I’m just nervous. What if your parents are horrified?”
“My parents already love you like a daughter.”
“Exactly.”
“Exactly what?”
“They might find it weird that you and I . . . you know . . .”
He smiled down at me.
“You’re enjoying how nervous this is making me?”
“A little. You’re cute when you blush.”
“Puppies are cute. And I don’t blush.”
“You do. And fine, you’re drop-dead gorgeous, and I’m the luckiest bastard in the entire world.”
I rolled my eyes. “You don’t have to overdo it.”
“That was me stating a hard fact, Ness. You are the most beautiful girl, and I am the luckiest guy.” He leaned in and stole a kiss. “But I don’t think we’ll be able to hide this for weeks. Days, possibly.”
I nodded. “Days are good.”
He kissed me again, dragging my mouth open, deepening the kiss until the tiles beneath my feet vanished. And they really did, because he lifted me and pressed me into the warm wall. Before I could fall, I wrapped my legs around his waist and got so carried away with our make-out session that my brain turned blissfully blank.
But then a phone rang, and Cole’s voice resonated outside the door, and I landed with a thump back into the present. August set me down gently, the stiff swell tenting his towel brushing along the insides of my thighs. Dizzy with lust, I leaned back against the wall to even out my scattered heartbeats.
August bracketed my head with his palms, breathing in the air I panted out. “I might have to take another shower.” His gravelly voice intensified my lust-induced daze.
There was a knock on the door. “Guys, sorry to interrupt, but there’s been a development, so if you two don’t mind taking a little break from—”
I opened the door so fast Cole almost stumbled inside the bathroom. “What development?”
“Julian just challenged Cassandra Morgan.”
I frowned. “Challenged her to do what?”
“A potato-sack race,” Cole said, just as August whispered, “No way . . . ”
“Yes, way.” Cole spun his phone between his fingers. “And I was kidding about the race.”
“He challenged her for leadership of the Creeks?” I blurted out. “What did
she say?”
He inhaled a long breath. “When an Alpha challenges another Alpha, Ness, there are two solutions. You either relinquish your territory and scram, or you accept to duel and hope you’ll catch the challenger on a bad day.”
“She’d have to give up Beaver Creek?” I asked.
“And the inn. And any other land that belongs to them. It’s the law of the packs . . . the law of the fittest.”
“That’s a ballsy move on Julian’s part,” August said.
Cole stopped twirling his phone. “He’ll either go down a legend or an imbecile, that’s for sure.”
“Do you think he’ll challenge Liam next?” I asked.
“Julian would’ve done it before now if he’d wanted our pack’s land,” August said.
“Julian was probably frightened of doing it before,” Cole said, “what with the whisperings of the pack being so evolutionary.”
“Evolutionary?” I asked.
“All-male,” Cole said. “And before you rip me a new one, I neither came up with the term, nor did I believe we were more evolved. I was simply guessing at a reason Julian never challenged Heath.”
“But what if he does challenge Liam?” I asked. “Or she . . . ?” Dismissing Cassandra was foolish, considering she’d already defeated an Alpha.
“If either of them challenge Liam to a duel, my guess is he’ll fight them,” Cole said.
My heart skipped into my throat and expanded there until I had so much trouble breathing that August sketched small circles on my lower back.
“We’ll be okay,” he said.
Black dots danced at the edge of my vision.
“He’ll be okay,” he added in a weighty whisper, sensing I needed reassurance that Liam’s life wasn’t in peril. August stopped circling his palm, drawing me into his side instead, and then he kissed my forehead and repeated, “He’ll be okay.”
I clutched the hand wrapped around my waist as though it were the only thing keeping me from tipping over.
“Hey, Cole,” August said, heart thudding steadily against my shoulder blade, “keep what you saw this morning to yourself.”
Cole nodded. “Course, man.” He pressed off the doorjamb. “Anyone want a muffin?”
A Pack of Vows and Tears Page 27