With everything packed and ready to go, she collected the school yearbooks by the bed and stored them in her closet. Sighing, she sat on the soft carpet and observed her room for the last time. If someone told her a week ago she’d be moving in with a werewolf, she would have laughed.
Chayton stepped inside her room. Memories of last night flooded back. The heat of his kiss, the pleasure of his fingers…her hormones zapped to life, causing her cheeks to blush. He spotted the luggage, and the strain in his face diminished. Did he assume she’d changed her mind?
“You ready?”
Amber nodded, and rose to her feet. She seized her camera bag, and he grabbed the remaining luggage. No backing out now. She made a promise, one she intended to keep. Things happened for a reason, right? They shared the same freckles, and she owed it to herself to see why.
“There’s something I want to show you,” he said over his shoulder when they descended the stairs. Outside, her mother waited on the porch, fists squeezed in front of her chest.
He pointed to the bumper of his truck. A white sedan hooked to the towbar. Excitement unfolded within, and she did a mental backflip. “My car. But how—”
“I travelled to Knoxville and towed it.”
He did that for her, why? Perhaps guilt after what happened. Regardless, she was grateful. This saved her arranging a tow service to deliver the vehicle to Chayton’s home. “Thank you.” She glanced at her watch. “I would have liked to say goodbye to Pa, but he’s not home yet.”
“Don’t worry.” Taylor took the camera bag, and followed Chayton to the trunk. “He said he’ll call you soon. You’ve made his day. And you’re not moving to a new country. It’s an hour’s drive.” Her mother then approached, arms open and beckoning. “Come here, sweet pea, and give your ma a hug.”
Sweat pea? She did as asked, patting Taylor’s shoulder. Well, this was awkward. Her mother hadn’t hugged her since—Amber frowned, unable to recall—possibly since she’d been born.
“You could have worn something a little nicer this morning, Amber,” her mother said close to her ear.
“Don’t be too happy, Ma…you’ll get wrinkles.” With one last pat, Amber stepped back, and her mother paled, touching her temples.
“Goodbye, Taylor.” Chayton waved, and climbed into his truck. “We’ll visit soon,” he said out the open window.
“I’ll have the roast on.”
Amber hoisted one foot on the side-step, and climbed into the passenger seat. A good thing she wore jeans, because this vehicle reminded her of mounting a horse. “I can follow you in my car. I don’t mind,” she told him when he twisted the key. He shot her a fleeting glance. The engine roared to life, and they drove away. Taylor’s face would be stamped with delight, and Amber refused to stare back. Shoulders straight, she nudged aside the inner grief.
“You left this behind last night.” He opened the glove compartment and retrieved her blue purse.
The mention of last night flushed her face. “Thanks.”
“About what happened,” he added.
She flinched. The way she acted and reacted was uncalled for. “I don’t—”
“I’m very sorry,” he interrupted.
What? No snide remark? She swivelled in her seat. His focus remained on the road. Ha, he was sincere. With the silence thickening between them, she couldn’t fathom a better time to mention this. “I remember who you are.”
“So you figured it out, huh?”
“Well,” she defended. “You’ve changed.”
Knuckles whitened when he gripped the steering wheel, and his face grew rigid. “You’re right. I’m no longer the kid who takes bullshit from people.”
She sat motionless, reluctant to speak. “I meant physically changed,” she said in a small voice. “That’s why I didn’t recognise you.”
He sneered. “Whatever.”
Whatever? Uncomfortable tension assailed the car, and she hugged herself. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“My name never changed.”
He had a point. If she cared to think twice about him then, maybe she might have remembered him. “I spotted you in the yearbook,” she added. “You were also in the yearbooks of Asheville Middle School, but you weren’t in anything after ninth grade in high school.”
“That’s because we moved to Qualla, and I changed schools.”
She bit her inner cheek, but like a moth to a light bulb, curiosity snagged her. “Which school?”
“Smoky Mountain High.”
“Why’d you leave?”
He shot her a sidelong glance. “As if you don’t know.”
She didn’t, but he increased the volume on the stereo when she was about to ask further. Metallica blasted through the speakers. If that didn’t confirm he was done with the conversation, then his clenched jaw and shifted gaze did.
They merged onto the faded road of the I-240. Few cars scattered with mild traffic ahead, and with each minute that passed, she worried about their relationship. Would things ever be good between them? Grey clouds clustered the sky, its dark shade a gloomy resemblance to the highway. Green and white signs above indicated their direction onto Route 74.
He turned left on Plott Balsam Road, passed a Starvin’ Marvin’s gas station with pumps that hadn’t been replaced since the 80s. Amber killed time picking lint off her clothes. When the truck slowed, she raised her head. A tattered wooden sign with the title Cranberry Creek hinted their location on the old lane.
“We’re here.”
Here was just an upward dirt driveway surrounded by trees and shrubs. Her eyes widened when they drove further. A cute cottage was nestled in complete privacy. The truck hummed to a stop, ending the rock music. She hopped out of the vehicle, observing the dark green shingle roof, and fought a smile. “So this is your house.” The home shone in the sun like marble, reminding her of a place straight out of a fairy-tale. She climbed the four porch steps, and ran her hand over the jutted, glazed logs protruding from the corners.
“Butt and pass.”
She reeled around, tempted to cover her ass. “Excuse me?”
He pointed to the architecture. “The construction of the logs, they call this a butt-and-pass.”
“Oh.” So, he didn’t refer to her behind. “Good to know.”
Two long windows with rich green wood shutters faced the outdoor chairs. She couldn’t picture herself in one of them, old and wrinkled with grey hair, knitting sweaters for the grandkids. As if she knew how to knit anyway. Nonetheless, the image should be clear; they were expected to grow old together, and yet she struggled to imagine a life with him.
“I’ll give you a tour of the house. Then we’ll collect your stuff…” He paused with the key in the door. “Hear that?” he muttered.
“What?”
His dark brows furrowed, forming deep lines in his forehead. “Shit! I’m gonna kill Ian.”
Before she could ask who Ian was and why the sudden need to kill him, he swung the door open.
“Surprise!” an echo of voices shouted.
She popped her head inside. Several people lined the room, all with big, welcoming smiles. “A surprise party,” she groaned, veering back.
He spared her a glance, then strode in. She followed, and gave a short nod to the strangers staring. These people must be members of his tribe, his friends and family. Dammit, she would have dressed for the occasion. Her hair was in a messy bun. Her jeans were worn and tattered at the knees. The only good thing about her outfit was the golden silk top. Mouth suddenly parched, she swallowed the scratchy dryness.
The high ceilings, walls, floors, and furniture were wooden. She predicted pine to fill the air, but inhaled the familiar fragrance of Chayton’s sweetgrass and woody herbs. The scent comforted her more than she expected.
“Chayton, my man.” A tall guy with a ponytail scuttled forward. He had a body built for wrestling, and skin a shade darker than Chayton. He carried two bottles of beer, one already open.
“Consider this payback for sending me to Knoxville as your damn sniffer dog,” Ian whispered close to Chayton’s ear, a huge grin on his face. Dark eyes then found her and winked. “Ah, if it isn’t the one and only.” Sidestepping Chayton, he embraced her, too.
“Oh.” Surprised, she hugged him in return.
“Welcome to the family. Hope you’re not allergic to dogs.” He laughed. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.”
“Ian!” Chayton grabbed his friend’s attention.
“Hey,” he snapped in a playful manner. “Can’t you see I’m talking to your lady here. I wanna get on her good side just in case you return her powers, so she doesn’t hex my ass.” His dark brows wiggled.
The others grabbed bowls of potato chips and dip, placing them on a long table. Great, so this wasn’t a quick, Hi, nice to meet you. Amber would have preferred to settle in, but on the upside, she didn’t have to endure any awkward alone time with her so-called mate.
“Can you be serious for one minute?” Chayton asked. “Why’d you throw a party?”
Ian cringed and shrugged. “I’ve always hated that saying: throw a party, reminds me of a baseball.” He made a swing with his arm. “Heads up! Party!” He laughed at the lame joke, but his humour withered when eyeing the serious expression on his friend’s face. “Okay, relax, Chay-man. I told the tribe you were picking up Amber today. They told a few others, and then we all drove here. “
“Why here, why today?” he insisted.
“What do you mean? How’s them being here my fault—”
“Ian, you’re the only one with the spare key, and you know where I keep my beer.”
“That,” he said, raising both fingers while keeping a grip on the bottles, “I can explain.”
Chayton folded his arms, his annoyance evident when his friend failed to elaborate.
“Um, I’ve got nothing.” Ian chuckled. “Here, have a drink and chill.” He thrust the beer at Chayton who had to grip the bottle before the beverage spilled over the hardwood floor. “You too, Goldilocks. Have a drink, unwind.”
She took the bottle. Although, a much stronger drink was preferable to intoxicate the dancing butterflies in her stomach, this would have to do.
“Oh shit!” Ian snatched the beer out of her grasp. “My bad. No alcohol for the pregnant woman. Milk, I’ll get you a nice glass of milk.”
He jested with her, right? Hot coals roasted beneath her cheeks. She shot Chayton a look, but he just rolled his eyes.
“I’m not pregnant.” The answer was meant to boom from her voice, but instead squeaked.
Ian’s large hand rested on her shoulder, and he leaned in close. “But you will be,” he whispered with such an animated expression, she’d have laughed if the notion did not send shockwaves of fear through her.
“Is the party in this corner, or do you guys care to join the rest of us?” A man stepped forward. He was fit and quite handsome for his age, with high pronounced cheekbones, dark skin, and a streak of grey in his short black hair. He smiled at her, and his sharp features resembled Chayton.
“Dad.” Chayton sidestepped Ian, and urged her forward. “Meet Amber Johnson.”
The older man held out his hand. “It’s an honour.”
She shook it. “You, too, Mr. Locklear.” Should she say something extra? This man was, in a sense, her father-in-law. How much more of this could she take? A timeout was required, or at least a few minutes to gather her bearings.
“Please, call me Len.”
Doubt rammed aside the warmth at seeing the gentleness in his black eyes. Was the kindness genuine, or did the people here pretend for Chayton’s sake?
“Stacy?” Chayton murmured.
The beautiful dark-haired woman sipped wine near the fireplace across the room. No way was Stacy here to welcome her. This day had just gone from bad to worse.
****
“Give me one sec.” Chayton bypassed his father and wended to his friend. He had planned to talk with Stacy before introducing Amber to the tribe, had even contemplated telling her last night when he met her at the reunion, but seeing his old classmates and being reminded of the past irritated him to boiling point...then Amber had walked in the room. “What are you doing here?”
“I needed to check on you.” She smiled, and brushed a strand of jet-black hair behind her ear. The expression didn’t quite meet her eyes. Of course she would be sad. The woman who tormented them in high school was now part of their pack. Furious would be more like it.
“I’m fine.” He paused. “I intended to tell you about this…”
The first true sign of humour twinkled in her eyes. “I can understand why you delayed the fantastic news. I just hope you’ll be all right.”
“I’ll be fine.” He waved when Sani passed with bottles of soft drink. “It’s strange though…I did not see this coming.”
“Yeah, same here,” she sighed. “This is further proof there’s no such thing as a perfect world.”
A perfect world. They had said that line so many times, in reference to so many things.
Wouldn’t it be a perfect world without school assignments?
Wouldn’t it be a perfect world if superman was real?
Wouldn’t it be a perfect world if we were popular?
One day after school had been the last time Stacy used the remark. Wouldn’t it be a perfect world if we shared the same marks? She had said this to him in tears, and til this day he still didn’t know what had upset her.
They grew up together, had both been made outcasts in high school. She’d been his first love and best friend. After discovering they didn’t share the same marks, their relationship ended. Young and naïve, they had thought destiny was on their side. But they remained friends, knowing one day things would be this way.
“Son,” his father called.
Chayton whirled to face him. Amber remained beside Len, staring between him and Stacy.
“Aren’t you going to introduce your mate to the rest of the tribe?”
The stern look was familiar. Did his father pity Amber? “Of course.” He faced Stacy and planted a chaste kiss on her cheek. “We’ll talk soon.”
He approached Amber, and hooked her arm. “Let’s do this.” They headed to the centre of the living area. “I’d like you to meet Howi and his mate, Dakota Hagan.” After she shook their hands, he introduced the next couple. “This here’s Kel and Jackie Lowton, and last, but not least, Sani and Kaya Marcom.”
Amber’s eyes widened when she peered at Kaya’s round stomach.
“Not long to go now.” Kaya rubbed her tummy. “You two better catch up,” she added.
Amber smiled, or at least, tried. The expression appeared torturous. He met her stressful look with a levelled one, and suspected she hadn’t yet accepted the idea of bearing his child.
Len cleared his throat, and everyone turned to him. “Could I have everyone’s attention please? As leader, it’s a great pleasure to welcome Amber Johnson to the Wahyu tribe.”
“About time,” Sani hollered, followed by an echo of laughter.
“Yes. This is true.” Len nodded, humour glinting in his eyes. “You have all been waiting patiently.”
Each partner stared at the other, their faces glowing with adoration as though still unable to believe how lucky they were to have found one another. Chayton glanced at Amber who bit her bottom lip. So nervous, she resembled a guilty witch standing trial.
“Now the wait ends. In three days the tribal games will begin. I hope this gives everyone enough time to organise leave with work and other obligations.”
The room erupted with applause, and the small group helped themselves to snacks and drinks.
“How ’bout a house tour?” he asked Amber. “As you can see, this is the living room.”
Two double sofas were positioned in front of the television, and she grinned at the large speakers
. “No wonder you had the TV blaring at Brianna’s.” She traipsed to the window, running her hand across the stone mantel. “I love the fireplace.”
He ambled out of the living room, and she followed him into the kitchen. Her gaze ran over the dark green marble countertop and standard appliances. “So much wood. I feel like I’ve stepped into a tree.”
“You don’t like it?” Irritation deepened his tone.
“I do.” She wheeled around. “It’s so different compared to my parents’ home. My mother has this thing with our white walls matching our white tiles and carpet. This is natural, simple.” She shrugged. “Where to next?”
He led her down the hall, unable to control the furrow in his brows. He’d never known Amber to be polite. If anything, he expected her to scoff at his humble home.
“I’m lost.”
“Already?” he called over his shoulder. “This isn’t a big house.”
“No, about what your father said.”
He turned to face her. “Which part?”
“If your father’s leader, then, isn’t it your birth-right to be next in line?”
“No,” he said, taking her into his bedroom. “Anyone in the tribe interested in leading must compete.”
Her pace slowed, perhaps realising whose room she stood in. A stack of sports magazines and a small collection of aftershaves sat on the dresser. The whooshing of the ceiling fan above emphasised the silence. Her gaze paused at the king-size bed in the far corner, and he didn’t miss the slight bob in her throat.
“Next door is a second bedroom. Further down the hall there’s a bathroom and separate toilet. Outside, I’ve built a large shed into a gym area. Feel free to use any equipment.”
Her shoulders sagged. Plump lips curved into a smile. “There’s a spare bedroom?”
Did she not hear what he said about the rest of the cottage, or did she focus on the fact another room existed? If she suspected she didn’t have to share with him, she could think again. “Ian uses it some nights, so most of his stuff is in there.” He stalked to her with slow deliberation. “Is there a problem?”
“No.” She too, stepped in his direction, almost closing the space between them. “We’re adults. I believe we can sleep in the same bed.”
Hateful Desire Page 12