She gasped, her expression going sober as she gently brushed his hands away and picked the towel up off the floor to wrap it around her. “Hunter…” She stepped around him, grabbed her coffee from the counter, and padded from the room.
He followed her across the hallway and back into her bedroom, still watching her as she rifled through her suitcase and pulled out clothes.
Surprising him, she didn’t flinch as she set the towel on the bed and stepped into a pair of panties. He’d half expected her to kick him out. She didn’t. Thank God.
He understood her hesitation. She was nervous. Scared. He couldn’t blame her. This was intense. He needed to give her some space. “I’m going to take a shower, okay?”
She nodded and glanced at him as she put on a matching lace bra that made her look even better. Shit. “Yep. I’ll make toast. You made me hungry.” She smiled. It lit up her face, as usual.
“Sounds good. I’ll meet you downstairs.” He shoved off the doorframe and padded back to the bathroom, intending to take a quick shower and reunite with her. He didn’t like the separation, no matter how ridiculous that might be, and he wanted to get her to his house this morning.
There were things he needed to tell her, and he selfishly wanted her to be in his home when he broke the news. It would give him a leg up.
After a quick shower, Hunter put his clothes back on from the day before and headed down the stairs. He found Layla sitting on the gaudy floral couch in Marge’s living room, legs curled under her, one of Marge’s photo albums in her lap. As with the rest of the house, the living room was out of style, from the wallpaper to the furniture. However, Marge had taken good care of everything. Nothing was in disrepair or overly worn. This house was well loved.
Layla didn’t seem to notice him until he sat next to her. When she lifted her gaze, her eyes were wide. “Aunt Marge took a lot of pictures. I feel like I can practically walk through the steps of her life.”
“Yeah, she often had a camera with her. Maybe she wanted to leave you girls something.”
“That’s so sad,” Layla murmured before she set a finger on the page in front of her. “My great-grandmother sent Marge pictures of us all the way up until she died. Look.”
He tipped his head down to find a picture of Layla and Elena playing in the sprinklers. They were about six years old. He smiled as he leaned in closer. “You were adorable.”
“I was gangly and awkward, and I knew that at all times because I lived with a 3D mirror image of myself,” she joked.
“That must be so weird. Staring at someone who looks just like you all the time.”
“Very.”
“It’s fascinating how much you two look alike even though you’ve been living apart. Your hair isn’t even cut differently.”
She nodded. “If you could have seen my grandmother even after their separation of fifty years, you wouldn’t have been able to tell them apart. Eerie. But as for Elena and me, we don’t have a lot of easy hair options without a lot of work. We learned what works for our hair at a young age. If we cut ours too short, it poofs out.”
He reached out and picked up a lock of the golden curls, which were so pale they were almost white. “I love it.”
“You should see how it looks when I leave the hairdresser. For auditions I usually straighten it and get it styled. The wild loose curls don’t earn me any favors when looking for a job.”
“I don’t see why not. It’s natural. Carefree. How is that not a thing people want to see?”
She chuckled. “Yeah, you’ll never understand.”
“Nope.” He dropped the curl and followed her gaze as she continued flipping through the pages. There were pictures of the twins at their birthdays and Christmas. “Your great-grandmother did an amazing job keeping Marge in the loop. She must not have agreed with Mabel at all.”
“Looks like it. It’s so sad. I bet Elena was in tears when she looked through all these. Since they were all left on the coffee table, I can tell she beat me to them.”
Hunter took a deep breath and slid a hand on top of hers, making the connection he craved, knowing she did too. “Come home with me.”
She didn’t move or say anything.
“I need clean clothes. I can make us lunch.” She lifted her fingers and brushed them over his cheek. “I want you to see my house. I want you inside it.”
She lifted her gaze and nodded. “Okay.”
He closed his eyes and tipped his cheek into her palm. Blessed angels.
Chapter 15
Something changed the moment Layla entered Hunter’s house. She’d been hesitant to go there, afraid of this very possibility, but he’d been so insistent. It had meant a lot to him. So, she’d consented.
Luckily, he left her to her thoughts, saying nothing as she wandered around in his space. The home was beautiful, inside and out. The view from his back windows was breathtaking. Mountain ranges extending as far as she could see in the distance.
The entire back wall of the living room and kitchen area was windows. Floor to ceiling. And she understood why. Who cared about the house itself with a view like this? She could sit on his back patio for days on end staring at the landscape.
The inside was decorated with a rustic, country-western vibe. Hardwood floors, wooden furniture, rugs, a chocolate-colored sofa she could sink into. “Do you run out there? In wolf form, I mean.” she asked as she returned her gaze to the back.
“Not often. I can, but I like to get farther out of town. It’s better if few people see us shift or race off in lupine form. Even though intellectually people grasp the concept, it’s still more than most people can wrap their minds around.”
“Yeah. Me too,” she whispered. The entire thing was surreal. She’d known this man less than two days, and it was unnerving how attracted she was to him and everything about him. His house somehow felt comforting and inviting. As if she were home. That made no sense.
It also smelled like him. If she thought being around him was powerful, being in his home was far more intense. Every breath drew him inside her.
She could sense him coming closer until he stood next to her, staring out the window. “Somehow the view looks different today, seeing it through your eyes,” he murmured. When he turned to her, he didn’t touch her. “Wander around. Do whatever you want. I’ll make us some lunch.”
His openness and candor should have been shocking. It wasn’t. It was as if there were no other options. She belonged here. This house was hers. She was welcome to explore. That was his insinuation.
It was difficult to argue. She sensed it all. The truth of it burrowed inside her. Whether or not she could accept it was another thing.
Yes, she’d left Los Angeles with no intention of returning, but she hadn’t intended to stay in Canyon Springs either. That had been the furthest from her mind.
What about Elena? She hadn’t come home last night. She was with Caleb. That was so unlike her that Layla had to admit chances were she was feeling the same intensity.
Layla took Hunter up on his offer and wandered toward the hallway. The house was a ranch, so the hallway led to several rooms. She found an office, two guest rooms, and a master bedroom. She sucked in a breath when she realized the master bedroom had the same view of the mountains. Breathtaking.
The master bath had a large picture window facing the view also. Based on the quality of the building materials and the unique design, she assumed this house was a custom design. Even his walk-in closet was perfect.
It turned out he was pretty tidy for a bachelor, especially one who hadn’t specifically been expecting company. The king-sized bed was made. It was also four-posted which reminded her of the scarves they’d played with last night.
She trembled as she set a hand on his dark navy comforter and ran it down the material. It was impossible not to picture herself lying on this bed, spread eagle with his lips all over her body.
A noise behind her made her spin around to find Hunter in the doorway
. He was swallowing. “Lunch is ready, but if you don’t stop fantasizing about my bed, we’ll never get to eat.”
She gasped. “How do you know what I was thinking?” It scared the hell out of her how often he guessed her mood or her thoughts.
He shook his head. “Not because I can ready your mind, Layla, but because I can smell your arousal.”
“Oh. Right.” She shuffled her feet back and forth. “For some reason, I feel like I can smell yours too.”
He glanced away, a tick forming in his cheek. When he looked back, he cleared his throat. “Let’s eat, and then I’ll explain a few things.”
She considered arguing with him but decided against it. She was hungry, for one thing. But she also wasn’t sure she wanted to hear whatever he was going to pile on her plate next.
Ignoring her nerves, she followed him back to his kitchen. Modern in the middle of the rustic décor. Stainless steel appliances, granite counters, like the master bathroom, dark wood cabinets that matched the floors. The large butcher-block table was already set for lunch.
Hunter had covered a tray with lunchmeat and cheeses. Condiments and bread were on the side. “I wasn’t sure what you liked so I figured I’d let you make your own sandwich.”
She lowered herself into the chair he pulled out, and smiled as he pushed her in. “Do you always think of everything?”
“No. Not even close. I’m working my ass off to impress you.” His voice was serious, and his expression matched as he sat at an angle from her.
She reached for two slices of bread. “It seems incongruent that we’ve been so intimate, emotionally and physically, and yet you don’t know what lunch meat I like.”
“It’s weird. We shifters do things out of order. I’m also hoping to get you in my bed before I know your wine and beer preferences.”
She chuckled. “Well, I drank beer with you Friday night.”
He shrugged. “How can I know if you weren’t just being polite?”
She reached for turkey, ham, and swiss cheese while watching him assemble his own sandwich out of pretty much everything on the table. After he took the first bite and swallowed, he said, “There, now we know one more thing about each other. Mayo for you. Mustard for me.”
She was famished, which wasn’t surprising. They had polished off a large portion of the lasagna last night, but she hadn’t eaten since then. While she devoured her sandwich, Hunter finished two of them, an apple, and some chips.
She helped him clean up and then let him lead her to his enormous, inviting sectional. She even let him take her hand, which might have been a mistake but one she couldn’t resist for another moment anyway.
She curled up in the corner, while he sat close to her, turned at an angle so he faced her. He set his elbow on the back of the sofa and leaned his chin on his palm. He held her gaze for a long time.
Eventually she adjusted her frame, wondering what serious information he was about to share. “Spit it out.”
He took a deep breath. “You’re half shifter.”
She stopped breathing, her mouth falling open. That was preposterous.
“Think about it. You have some abilities. Especially your senses. You can scent me the way I scent you. I bet you see and hear better too. Your instincts about people are usually spot on, aren’t they?”
She blinked at him, trying to process this information. “That’s ridiculous,” she muttered.
“Is it?”
She swallowed. “Why would you say that? My mother wasn’t a shifter. So, you’re saying my father was?” Her hands started to tremble. What if he was right? How had she gone twenty-four years without knowing this?
He nodded.
“How do you know?”
“Everyone knows, babe. They can scent it.”
She jerked back and rubbed her forehead. “Other shifters, you mean. Other people in Canyon Springs.” It wasn’t a question. She was just putting it together in her head.
“Yes.”
“There is no way my grandmother knew that.” She slapped her palms on her thighs. “Wait. I have no idea why I’m even accepting your word on this. You have an ulterior motive.”
He pulled in a slow breath. “My only motive is to inform you before we go another step forward in this relationship so that you don’t kick me in the balls when you find out.”
She glanced at his lap. “What makes you think I’m not considering that already?”
He reached out a hand and cupped her face before she had a chance to retreat. “I know this is difficult. I’d do anything to skip into the next week when you more fully grasp everything, but there’s nothing I can do but walk you through the steps and help you understand. Believe me, I’m freaking the hell out worrying.”
“You?” Her voice rose. “You’re worrying? What about me? I’m the one bombarded by information I never asked for.” She leaned out of his touch and jumped up from the couch, feeling a restless need to move. So she paced. “In the span of less than two days my crazy life has flipped upside down. I don’t even know who I am.”
He didn’t get up from the couch. Thank God.
“One minute, I was just a regular human meeting up with her sister to sell a house. The next minute, I’m in an alternate universe with a man I just met who can shift into a wolf. He’s got me under some sort of spell that keeps me from concentrating on anything except fucking and then fucking again.”
Layla didn’t look in Hunter’s direction. She just paced back and forth rapidly, trying to control her anxiety. And failing. “I haven’t seen my sister more than a few minutes since I arrived. She’s probably considering killing me.” Layla stopped pacing to tap her lips with one finger. “Except no. That’s not true because she’s trapped in the same Twilight Zone as me fighting the same force of nature and probably losing the battle as badly as I am.”
Finally, Layla jerked her gaze toward Hunter. “So no. I’m not really capable of swallowing whatever you’re feeding me next. I’m also a shifter?”
He licked his frustratingly sexy lips. “Half. And you must not have been born with the ability to actually shift, or you would have figured that out in puberty.”
A sardonic laugh escaped her lips, and she threw her hands up. “Great. Aren’t I lucky? Imagine what my grandmother would have done if Elena and I had started shifting at twelve years old. So, what? How does this fucking work? You’re saying my attraction to you is largely based on the fact that I’m actually part wolf? Or am I a different animal?”
He shook his head. “No. You’re part wolf. Fate doesn’t unite animals from different species. Bears mate bears. Wolves mate wolves.”
Another absurd laugh escaped her lips. “Great,” she drew out sarcastically. “I feel so much better.”
Suddenly Hunter jumped to his feet and stared at the front of the house. “Fuck.” He wiped his hands on his jeans and rushed past Layla toward the front door.
Her breath caught at his altered demeanor. The air changed around her too.
As he reached the front door, she knew instinctively everything in her world was about to take a new path.
Chapter 16
April 6, 2006
Dear Mabel,
I can’t believe the twins are ten years old today. It seems like just yesterday they were born. The worst part about losing Mom last year is that I don’t have anyone to send me pictures anymore.
I’m sure they are growing up fast. They’re probably several inches taller than last year. I miss getting updates from Mom. I bet they are a ray of sunshine in your life. I hope so. Maybe one day they will come visit me like their mother did. Maybe one day you will come visit me too.
I won’t hold my breath.
Love, Marge
Hunter opened the door before the last man he wanted to see right now was fully out of his car. He considered shutting the door behind him and asking their uninvited guest to leave before Layla ended up more upset than she already was.
That idea was shot when Layla
shoved past him and stepped onto his front porch. Her shoulders dropped. “Oh, I thought maybe that would be Elena.”
Hunter reached out with both hands and set them on her shoulders as he closed the gap between them and flattened his chest to her back. He further emphasized his claim by wrapping one arm around her waist.
Maybe it was a cowardly move, but he knew her heart rate would settle if it fell into sync with his. The more he could get her to relax, the easier this confrontation would go.
It wasn’t as if he hadn’t known for two days this moment would come. He’d been biding his time, trying to put it off for as long as he could. He’d hoped to come closer to convincing Layla she was his before introducing her to this stranger.
Anders Johansen approached slowly, hands opening and closing at his sides. His expression was unlike Hunter had ever seen it. Instead of his usual scowl, he looked nervous, concerned, hopeful. Hunter couldn’t blame him.
When Anders reached the bottom of the three steps that led up to the porch, he stopped. He ran a hand through his nearly white hair. His gaze darted back and forth between Hunter and Layla. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t wait any longer. And it was unfair of you to ask me to.”
“I know,” Hunter agreed, praying to whatever god in the universe would listen that he wasn’t about to lose the only woman he would ever love. The irony wasn’t lost on him. He held Layla closely, surprised she was permitting him to instead of fighting him. “Layla, this is Anders Johansen.”
Anders kept his gaze on Layla. “Layla…” He let the name roll off his tongue. “I can’t believe how stunning you are.”
Layla flinched.
Anders spoke again, his words directed at Hunter, his gaze still on Layla. “You haven’t told her.”
“Not yet. I just finished explaining she’s half shifter. She’s not even close to over that revelation.”
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