by Erika Masten
Chapter 7
From one of the long, narrow, multi-paned windows to either side of her front door, Ellie watched Ty Abrams depart down the meandering walk toward the street and his patrol car.
“You’ve done yourself proud today, Ellie,” the woman muttered to herself as she let the tension of the conversation and the effort it had required of her drain out of her shoulders.
Behind her and off to one side of the hallway, the sound of hammering paused briefly. “Did you say something, Ellie?” Jared Brennan called to her from the den.
Lord, but that was a nice sound, the silence when Jared stopped working, without the greater chaos of his brother wrecking something somewhere in the distance.
“No, I didn’t say anything,” she responded, and that was partly true.
What she hadn’t said just now to Ty Abrams had been a hell of a lot more important than the words they had exchanged. When the Itan had put before her the clan proposal that she and her family—that Mason in particular—come live at the bear clan compound on the lake while leaving Garden Gate to Caroline’s care, a ‘gentle’ proposal made with all but undeniable authority, Ellie had not told the man what he could do with that idea.
The woman hadn’t told him in graphic detail what she’d have done to Caroline Heath had Ellie actually been able to shift to the wildcat that she was. Nor had she told Abrams where he and every speciest shifter in Grayslake could go, in a handbasket. Or that she planned to defy him at every turn no matter how politely she had promised to take this new arrangement under consideration.
A week. That was how long she had to give the bear clan leader her answer. That was how long she had to make enough progress on the Garden Gate renovations to prove she could really make a go of the B&B. To prove that not only was it a suitable place to raise Mason, but it was going to be the most elegant, lively, ideal atmosphere to raise a happy, social, inquisitive child and cub like her six-year-old. To prove that she had her shit and her life together and didn’t need help from Caroline Heath or Ty Abrams or Nate Brennan or even Aubrey Drummond.
In the den, Ellie grabbed a spare hammer and stepped up beside Jared. “Ready for my next lesson,” she announced.
The raven-haired wolf shifter chuckled and glanced at her sidelong. “You sure, Miss Ellie? You know I can do this on my own, right? It’s no problem that you’d rather not have Nate around. I do understand that sentiment. He was pissed, but between us, it’s nicer working around here without him getting in my way and messing things up behind me as I go.”
“This isn’t about me helping you, Jared. This is about me learning how to help myself. If you have any reason not to have me here, it’s because I’m trying to put you out of business by learning how to do this on my own.”
The workman shrugged and smiled more broadly. “Fair enough, Miss Ellie.”
Miss Ellie. Having Jared call her that reminded Ellie of the flirtatiously formal way Aubrey Drummond addressed her as Miss Lowe when his tone and his manner and the way he’d been looking at her said he was being far more familiar than the form of address suggested. The woman hammered away, attaching new baseboards throughout the room, all while thinking about the lion shifter. Strange how warm her thoughts were, considering how she had torn into him about all the trouble he’d caused—or been blamed for causing—mostly because she didn’t want him constantly protecting her.
Did that really mean Ellie didn’t want Aubrey around, though? It certainly hadn’t meant she’d been able to put him out of mind, neither the man nor his kisses. Yet he seemed to have taken the chastisement to heart. He’d been away nearabout all the time the last few days. Avoiding her? She had to wonder, but she deserved it if he was.
The woman moved on to helping remove old carpet tacks so Jared Brennan could eventually put down wood tiles. By midafternoon, she was covered in the dust of wood and grime and loving every minute of it for what it showed of her accomplishments that day. It’d been a long time since she felt so… empowered, and all because she had picked up a hammer. Or really because she was taking matters into her own hands with a newfound faith that she could handle what was ahead of her. Because she had to, to keep her family together.
Now there was the matter of what to do about the nagging suspicion that her self-confidence was being bolstered by the fact that Aubrey Drummond had been backing her up so much of late. It was too tempting, too comfortable, to think that she could rely upon him, that she wasn’t going to have to do everything herself all the time. How was she going to feel when he came home, or more precisely back to the carriage house, and saw all the progress on the house that day? There was, she admitted to herself, a distinct danger that rather than showing off how proud she was of herself, she would just be looking for Aubrey to be impressed with what she’d done.
Strangely, when Drummond finally returned from work late in the afternoon, he didn’t come through the house. Aubrey instead followed the paving stones around the side of the massive Victorian, through the backyard to the carriage house. Ellie knew because, despite herself and her claims of disinterest in Aubrey Drummond or any male, she’d been waiting and watching for his Jeep to pull in and park under one of the huge shade trees by the street. Instead of greeting him by the front door as she planned, with a big dust-smeared smile, she followed his progress through the yard by sneaking room-to-room and watching him through the windows. The expression on his handsome, square-jawed face was about as somber as a man could get and made Ellie wonder what was up.
Just as Aubrey was unlocking the door to his carriage house suite, Ellie rushed out the backdoor and jogged through the grass as she called after him.
“Long day, Mr. Drummond? No manners left to say hello?” she teased.
The shifter sighed as he turned, obviously in no mood. Seeing Ellie dirt-smudged but beaming caught his attention, though. “What in the world happened to you?”
One hand on her curvy hip, the other holding up her hammer like it could’ve been an Academy Award, Ellie announced, “I’ve been learning how to renovate.”
Aubrey narrowed his moody blue eyes at her. “Aren’t you supposed to be paying Jared and Nate Brennan for that?”
“Today I’ve been paying Jared to teach me everything he knows.” Ellie cocked one eyebrow. “And I let him know that with me around he didn’t need his brother.”
“Hmph,” was all she got from Drummond, that and a frown. Aubrey turned back toward his door.
“Wait, aren’t you at least a little impressed? I mean, all the work I got done today….” Duh, Ellie. “Wait, no, you haven’t seen it. You didn’t come through the house. You have to see the den. I swear, you’re not going to believe it. I can’t wait to show Mason, too.”
The mention of Ellie’s son got Aubrey to take notice. The werelion tensed up just enough to be perceptible and turned back around. “Where is the little speed racer? He’s not with Caroline, is he? I mean, she didn’t—?”
Ellie shook her head vehemently no. Interesting, though, how concerned Aubrey had gotten when he thought Mason might have been with Caroline. And interesting how much less offended she was by the man’s natural protectiveness after feeling like she was making headway of her own.
“Oh, Lord, no. He’s having a sleepover with one of his classmates. His friend’s family just got a trampoline. I’m sure he’s bouncing himself sick and silly right now and loving every minute of it. Mrs. Tate—that’s the family—she promised to text me pictures from her iPhone.”
“Ah.” Aubrey started to turn away again, but he paused long enough to cast a glance Ellie’s way, ponytail to toes. “Don’t forget to clean up; you’ll be surprised how badly that sawdust will track all through the house if you don’t.”
That? That was all he was going to say? The man was exasperating Ellie no end. Maybe… maybe even as exasperating as she had been pushing him away whenever he’d been sweet to her. Ellie sucked thoughtfully on her bottom lip, considering her options.
“I’m
sure you’re right, Mr. Drummond. Can’t go back in the house like this.”
When she said this, starting to walk backwards, she got a funny look from Aubrey. The important thing was that he kept looking as she backed away, as she tossed the hammer aside, as she pulled off each of her sneakers and tossed them over her shoulder. Now she really had the werelion’s attention, and Ellie had to admit that she was enjoying it, that she’d missed it over these last few days, thinking she might just really have driven him away.
But, no, Aubrey Drummond was watching her with rapt attention as Ellie bent just enough to flip the switch on the fountain pump.
“Look what I got working today,” she said, giggling like a schoolgirl as she stepped fully dressed into the cascading water.
Chapter 8
Ellie Lowe might have been a latent shifter, raised around both manifested weres and others like herself, but she clearly had no idea what kind of animal she was playing with right then.
Putting aside the fact that the werecat ran every bit as hot and cold as a true feline and was the very epitome of mixed messages, what the hell did she think it was going to do to Aubrey watching her get in that fountain and wet herself down like that? Giggling coyly and flirting with those big, gorgeous eyes? Making her T-shirt and already snug cropped jeans cling like a second skin to every luscious curve on her body?
Aubrey tried to indulge the woman’s newfound playfulness from a distance, to just tilt his head and smile politely. There wasn’t anything genuine about the smile he forced over his clenched teeth. He was hungry, and her behavior wasn’t helping him control that.
“You’re going to make an even bigger mess, you know,” he quipped, unable to bring himself to dampen her mood even if it was worsening his.
Ellie had no way of knowing how restless the werelion inside him was or all the reasons why it was so. After years as an Agency hunter constantly stalking rogue shifters and the dangerous supernaturals preying on the fringes of humanity. Always on the move. Life as an agent—or more bluntly a spy—for the Panthera was just the same. Chasing and taking down prey was Aubrey’s profession, his talent, his passion. It was his nature. But Ellie Lowe didn’t know that, because Ellie didn’t know anything about Aubrey, at least nothing true.
“You’re no fun,” she told him. Tonight, she did have that right. “Working all day out in the woods, you really going to say you’re not all hot and sweaty and dirty? Admit it; you want to get in here, too.”
The werelion snarled under his breath. He definitely wanted to get up in there, and he didn’t mean just the fountain.
“Ellie,” he said, shaking his head no, cautioning the woman but obviously not impressing upon her that he was serious. “It’s been a long day.”
A lot of wasted hours looking for signs of who’d been following him near the reservoir and finding nothing, suspecting that even if he found the trail it would lead to the one place Aubrey could not go—somewhere on the werebear compound across the lake from Aubrey’s patrol area. And the only thing worse to a werelion than not hunting at all was hunting and not catching his prey.
“I’m in no mood—,” he started to say.
“No mood? Really?” she interrupted.
Taunting him with her own natural seductiveness, the woman ran her hands up along her apple cheeks and then smoothed back her wet bangs and her ponytail. She dragged the band in her hair down as she did and freed the long spill of dark gold curls. All while batting those long lashes and biting playfully on her plush bottom lip with her teeth. That little wildcat knew what she was doing to Aubrey… and he’d had just about enough of resisting.
Inside Aubrey, deep down under the flexing, tensing muscle and burning groin, his lion was focused hard on the woman and salivating. Was it the man’s thought or the lion’s, or maybe both, that it would have served the little werecat right to have Aubrey turn on the charm his kind were known for? To use that male leonine magnetism that Pietr wielded so remorselessly?
Why not? What was keeping him from pouncing on the tender little cat and baring all that soft, yielding flesh to his kisses and his teeth, to the rough caresses of his hands as he held her pinned for both their pleasure, to the burning penetration of his cock opening her wide and deep?
Aubrey left his key in the knob and dropped his leather work satchel just outside the carriage house door. He prowled forward with his lion’s instincts, his beast’s hunger, clouding his mind. It was a struggle to remember all the reasons he’d been resisting his attraction to the woman.
Because he wasn’t going to be in Georgia any longer than necessary? Yet here he was drawing out negotiations with Abrams and refusing Pietr’s urging that he press Ellie to sell Garden Gate to the Panthera.
Or was it because he had to get back to operations in California and look after Vanessa? All that was just bullshit with his sister’s mate and that entire wolf pack there to protect her.
Aubrey had told himself he didn’t want to set himself up to compete against the memory of Ellie’s dead mate and the father of her son. Only now he’d discovered that Sam Heath had been little more than a tumble and Mason a fortunate but unplanned outcome.
That left what? There were other reasons, but as Aubrey peeled off his uniform shirt and kicked off his shoes, he couldn’t bring any of them to mind. None of that was as real as a warm, wet Ellie Lowe beaming with pride and determination, playing in the fountain with the sensuality of a woman released from the weight of the worries that had held her down too long.
The werelion stepped into the concrete garden fountain and reached for the she-cat. Gripping her gently but firmly by the throat, Aubrey relished her sudden gasp as he drew her up against his body. He intentionally angled his groin forward to press the ridge of his aching cock against the softness of her belly through her clothing. Meager defense, those thin layers of denim and cotton. His body still soaked in the warmth of her skin, of the hot core at the juncture of those deliciously plump thighs.
Standing so much taller than Ellie, Aubrey loomed over the woman and tilted his face over hers. He held her like that, just held her. Breathing, feeling, anticipating. Their desire for one another became a tangible heat buzzing and prickling between them, dancing over his growingly feverish skin, like electricity along a live wire.
Past the thick black tangle of her wet lashes, Ellie’s eyes had taken on a sensual gleam of lust. “Mm, pretty eyes, Miss Lowe,” he said in a whisper that reverberated through his chest and against her skin like a purr. “A little bit green, a little bit blue, with those little flecks of gold. A wildcat’s eyes, indeed.” And with her pupils blossoming black and deep, the physical proof that he was affecting her as badly as she was tormenting him.
Ellie’s only response was to sway forward and catch her balance with her hands on the naked skin of Aubrey’s hips just above his straining pants. Aubrey had to suck his breath in hard through his gritted teeth to steady himself, as his abdominal muscles, his thighs, his groin all tensed up like steel bands, painfully.
“Careful with those claws, wildcat,” he growled and tightened his grip on the she-cat’s throat. “Take it slow, or the lion might come out too soon.”
“And do what?” she whispered with her lips almost brushing his.
Ellie’s breath on Aubrey’s face, the smell of sweet tea and the delicious silky heat, made the man indulge himself with a quick lick and nip along her bottom lip before he responded.
“A beast is beast, Ellie. If I weren’t reining my lion in right now, he’d already be on you. It could hurt if you weren’t ready enough for me,… wet enough.” Aubrey felt the little shudder that quavered through Ellie’s shoulders, and the ravenous snarl of his lion inside him cycled up to meet the sensation. “Is that exciting for you, wildcat? The thought of being taken like an animal by an animal?” His mouth lingered just over hers, barely brushing her lips with his as he spoke, asking, “Do you want the lion to be rough?”
“Yes.” Her response was more a hungry
kitten’s hiss than a spoken word. “Yes,” she said again and pushed her body forward against his, soft curves giving way to hard planes.
“So do I,” Aubrey rasped as he seized Ellie with his hands under her full, round ass and hauled her effortlessly up his body. Taking her in his arms, he settled her weight down on his hips and his jutting erection.
Chapter 9
Ellie’s head swam as Aubrey Drummond hoisted her up along his body. Her legs naturally wrapped themselves around his waist. Had to love that supernatural shifter strength. He lifted her like she weighed nothing, like she was a child herself or a ragdoll he was going to love playing with. The sense of vertigo made her squeeze her eyes shut and cling tight to him, leaving her concentrating by default on the flood of input from her other senses.
His amber-and-forest scent, washed clean by the water from the fountain, filled her nostrils and left the subtle impression of marine salt and earthy loam at the back of her throat. Beneath her palms and her fingertips, gripping his flesh so hard that she was sure she’d have marked a normal man, his skin was smooth and hot and taut. His muscles flexed and shifted with power and grace beneath her touch. She felt her own muscles melting against the heat of his until she was pliant, even languid in his arms.
All the while aching and burning deep between her legs for rougher treatment from the lion shifter.
It had been so long for Ellie, since the last time she’d been with anybody, and she didn’t think anyone had ever gotten her work up like this man did. Ellie hadn’t wanted anyone to get in the way of her putting Mason first. Aubrey, though…. Aubrey made it near impossible to ignore that Ellie was a woman as well as a mother.
In Aubrey’s room, he unwrapped her legs from his body and put her on her knees on his bed facing him. Swiftly, deftly, his hands peeled her wet T-shirt up and off her body even as he was settling her down on the mattress. She wasn’t even sure how one hand on her shoulder and the other on her soft, trembling belly translated to her landing on her back with her jeans unfastened and already halfway down her thighs. He jerked the material the rest of the way off and cast it aside with a rough flourish.