by Penny Alley
“Come on, buddy,” Gabe said, his voice and stance changing, becoming easy-going and sauntering once more. “Let’s get out of here.”
Pushing away from the wall where he’d been waiting, Scotty followed behind them. She tried to take his hand, but he put them in his pockets and kept his eyes downcast.
The whole way back to the jeep no one said anything. Gabe unlocked Neoma’s door first, reaching through it to unlock the back. He shuffled a plastic sack, some empty wrappers and a change of clothes out of the way, making room for Scotty.
“Hop in,” he told them both, holding the rear door until Scotty had climbed up onto the rear seat. As Gabe helped him with the seatbelt, for the second time that day, Neoma felt a swift rush of wanting move through her. He would have to scold Scotty now. All things considering, that could only be expected, but Gabe surprised her again when he, quite conversationally, said instead, “I’m only going to say two things about what happened today and then I’m going to close the matter, okay?”
Scotty looked at him, the dirt and bruises on his face contrasting sharply with the pale anger he was trying hard to hide. He was so like Matson in that moment, so much like his father with challenge lying naked in his stare.
“First,” Gabe said, tugging the seatbelt tight before stepping back to rest his hand on the top of the open door. “Never swing first, not on a pack brother.”
Yellow flared hot in Scotty’s eyes, burying the blue in raw anger. “They’re not my pack brothers. I don’t have a pack.”
“For as long as you live here, you do,” Gabe corrected.
“No, I don’t!” Scotty snapped. “I don’t like them. Any of them! They called us garbage sniffers, and everybody laughed!” Gabe held up a calming hand, but Scotty only grew louder, his pitch deepening with the rising of his poorly controlled wolf. “Landon said Mom was on the highway last night eating roadkill, but she wasn’t! We only did that one time! One!” He threw up a supporting finger, the low rumbling growl that had begun to infect his tirade suddenly abandoning him and becoming a puppish-squeak of ineffective rage. “And only because we were hungry! I’ll bet no one here has ever, never been that hungry! I hate Hollow Hills! I hate everybody in it! I’m going to get bigger and meaner than everybody here and when I do, I’m leaving!”
“Give them a chance to get to know you,” Gabe coaxed. “It’s a hard life out there, buddy. Nobody guards your back when you’re in the Scruff.”
“I’m not going to the Scruff,” Scotty told him, still squeaking as he swiped hard at his unbruised eye, rubbing out the single tear that managed to escape before it could fall more than halfway down his cheek. “I’m going to Ohio, and I’m going to have my own pack. We’ll invade Solon and take over the factory there. We’ll make Hot Pockets all day, and ride the slides at night, and nobody will go to sleep hungry. I’m taking Mom with me,” he finished, every stiff inch of him challenging Gabe. Had it been Deacon, that look would have got him killed, and all the frightened parts of Neoma tensed, ready to intervene if the wolf in Gabe rose to answer it.
He didn’t.
“Are you done?” was all Gabe asked.
His angry breaths coming in jerky hiccups, eventually Scotty nodded.
“Okay,” Gabe said again. “Two things: One, don’t ever swing first. That’s not good pack behavior, and if I have to tell you that again, there’s going to be consequences. Two, the next time someone here forgets that and swings on you, kick them back as hard as you can in the shins. Unless they know martial arts, it’s hard to block that. When they go down, then you can hit them right here.” Gabe lightly tapped Scotty’s forehead, just above the bridge of his nose. “Their eyes will tear up and they won’t be able to see anything long enough for you to stomp their butts, got it?”
Glaring and sniffling, Scotty swiped his eyes again. Then he nodded. “Got it.”
In some distant yet extremely sensible part of her mind, Neoma knew she should be appalled by such advice. But standing just behind Gabe, staring over his shoulder at the bruises Scotty wore, she just couldn’t summon it. Chevolak in their quiet, comfortable majority, could claim violence not to be the answer for life’s little problems all they wanted. Volka knew better.
“We’ll talk about invading Solon another day, okay?” Giving him a bolstering chuck under the chin, Gabe moved back out of the doorway. “Watch your fingers.”
He gently shut the door, and then it was just the two of them, standing within feet of one another. With Gabe seeming so damned parental when he didn’t have to be. Until he looked at her, his gaze drifting from her eyes to her lips, and infusing her with a whole new flush of wanton desire that she felt seared by it—in her cheeks, her chest, and settling low down in her womb where that slow building throb made all the parts of her that he had so thoroughly loved not an hour ago ache for him all over again.
The direction of her thoughts must have shown on her face, or maybe he just picked that moment to smile. It was small, little more than a twitch tugging at one corner of his mouth as he eased a step closer, and it was probably just a trick of her imagination that made her feel the heat of his body radiating into hers.
“Why Solon again?” Gabe asked, faintly curious.
Neoma felt herself blush. “Nestle’s corporate office for the Hot Pockets line is there.”
“Uh huh,” Gabe said, and thought that over. “And he knows they have slides because…?”
“He saw a picture of the conveyor belts.”
“I see.” Gabe managed to keep his chuckle mostly internal, though he wasn’t at all successful at hiding his grin. “I don’t suppose, if I get him hooked on soccer, we could delay going to war with Solon until he’s at least eighteen.”
“I don’t like soccer,” Scotty snapped from the backseat, which only made Gabe’s grin grow.
“I didn’t think so,” he said, much softer than before.
His smile was so infectious. Knowing Scotty could see her, Neoma rolled her lips to keep from her answering smile from tickling into helpless laughter. “Probably not,” she whispered. When he moved, she didn’t realize he was backing her into the v of the open front door until she bumped up against it.
“Would you like help with your seatbelt too, Neoma?” he asked, catching the top of the door with one hand and resting his other on top of the car, in effect, trapping her.
She didn’t mind.
He must have seen that too, because his grin softened and his eyes warmed. Looks like that, Neoma discovered, had the power to melt her all the way to her toes. At least until the tromp of approaching footsteps interrupted them. Gabe heard it first, but when he turned, she saw the man from the principal’s office marching straight toward them, with his two young sons trailing unhappily along beside him. Caught by the scruff of his shirt, the taller of the two was being marched along, forced to keep up with his father’s longer stride.
“Gabe,” Wade said, once they were close enough that he didn’t have to shout.
Putting himself between them and Neoma, Gabe faced the other man. “Wade.” The steely side of Gabe was back, only thinly veiled behind a calm and friendly voice. His only sign of irritation was the drum of his fingers on the top of the door. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m here to apologize to your wife and your boy,” the other man said, coming to a stop before them. “My son told me what he said. If it were me, I’d have swung on him too. Starting tomorrow Landon will be on your porch, ready to escort yours to and from school. The next time your boy comes home with a scratch or a bruise, or so much as a hurt feeling, mine won’t sit for a week and that’s a promise.”
Head bowed at his father’s side, Landon kept his eyes on the ground right up until Wade switched his grip from shirt to neck and pushed him right up to stand in front of Gabe.
“Well?” Wade demanded.
Hugely embarrassed, Landon glanced first at Gabe and then Neoma, and finally, bowed his head again. “I’m sorry.”
The la
st thing Neoma wanted was to see her son forced to spend time with a bully, but Gabe seemed disinclined to hold grudges. He even warmed, albeit only just a little.
“Apology accepted.” Extending his hand, Gabe shook Wade’s. “Thank you for coming out.”
“I do follow my Alpha’s lead,” Wade said. “So will my sons.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Gabe replied, politically. “Landon and Willy are good boys.”
“When they aren’t screwing up,” the other man allowed.
And today had certainly qualified as that. Neoma didn’t say that aloud, though. It was safer simply to get in the car. Gabe closed the door for her, before stretching his hand to shake Wade’s.
“Thanks again,” he said, offering the boys a wave before their father herded them off into the parking lot toward a bright red pickup truck.
“Do I really have to come back here tomorrow?” Scotty grumbled from the backseat.
“No,” Neoma answered.
Climbing in behind the steering wheel, Gabe overruled her. “Yes, you do.” He slipped the key into the ignition and started the jeep.
“Not with that boy,” she told him.
“With that boy,” Gabe overruled again, shifting into gear and heading out of the parking lot. When they passed the truck, he waved again. So did Wade.
“I don’t want to,” Scotty said. A soft sniffle issued from the backseat.
“Unfortunately, buddy, life is all about doing things we don’t particularly want to do. Just ask your mom.” Gabe ignored the look Neoma shot him, but she couldn’t exactly argue. So far, their entire relationship had been built out of things neither of them had wanted to do.
Except this afternoon. This afternoon had been nothing but wanting. Just thinking about it made her cheeks hot and her nipples pebble beneath the soft rub of a bra she normally couldn’t feel at all.
They drove out to the main road. Pausing at the stop sign, Gabe waited a good minute longer than the non-existent cross traffic required. He pursed his lips, glancing once at Scotty in the rearview mirror, before shifting that look to Neoma.
“Tell you what,” he said. “Since this has been such a rotten day, how about we go out for dinner and maybe some ice cream afterward?”
Scotty perked in the backseat. “I like ice cream.”
“There’s one vote for yes.” Gabe tossed her a wink. “How about you, honey?” He held out his hand, palm up, waiting for her to take it.
She hadn’t had ice cream in years. The tension of the situation was gone. All Neoma could feel right now was how nice it felt to lay her hand in Gabe’s while the strength of his fingers folded over hers. “I like ice cream too.”
“Ice cream it is.” That infectious grin of his returned as he pulled onto the road, turning right and heading out of Hollow Hills toward Grady. “Now, all that’s left to do is settle on what’s for dinner. I know this great rustic place just up the road. Scotty’s about seventeen years too young to go inside, but they have picnic tables on the patio where you can still hear the music and see the TV through the window. How do you guys feel about carnitas?”
“What’s carnitas?” Scotty asked.
“Some kind of Mexican, isn’t it?” Neoma looked at him.
“Oh,” Gabe said, glancing at each of them in turn. “Oh, hell no. I can put up with a lot of things, but this…” He shook his head, but gave her fingers a reassuring squeeze. “Forget everything you ever learned in school, both of you. Your real education starts now.” Clearing his throat, Gabe drew a breath and began to instruct. “Carnitas, **give a lecture on the origins**
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“So there we were,” Gabe said, grinning at Neoma across the ice cream parlor table, the remains of three takeout carnitas platters and three mostly melted sundae cups. “It was our team’s first away game, I’m coaching seventeen rambunctious four-to-eight-year-old volka pups, and because we didn’t know what we were doing, we get matched up to an older bunch of chevolak kids from a few towns over. It’s ice hockey, so you know it’s going to be rough as hell. One Shift and we’re done. You ever see the movie Teen Wolf starring Michael J. Fox? Remember that scene where he goes wolf on the basketball court in front of an entire gym full of spectators?”
Chin cupped in her palms, Neoma shook her head, smiling.
“Yeah well, it would not have been anywhere near as smoothly accepted as Hollywood portrayed, trust me. And the stands were filled with chevolak and volka parents, all eager to see their kids play. Imagine if Romeo and Juliet actually got married. There could not have been a more clear-cut line of segregation between the feuding families like there was in the stands that afternoon. Everyone wanted their kid to win, but all I kept seeing was a skating ring littered with empty uniforms and a bunch of tongue-lolling, tail-wagging pups. Cue the screaming and running, and bring on the news crews, right?”
Chuckling, she snorted and quickly covered her mouth as if to hide it from him. “What did you do?”
“What any sensible coach would do, faced with his first surefire win.” His grin broadened. “I sent in my secret weapon: little Jacob O’Brian.”
“And you won,” Neoma guessed.
“Lost by a landslide. The kid’s no alpha. Almost ten years old now and still can’t tie his shoes. Well, that’s a bit unfair,” Gabe allowed. “I happen to know for a fact his mother keeps him in Velcro. But I’ve been coaching him for two years now, and he still hasn’t figured out which goal posts are his and which belong to the opposing team. He scored more points for the chevolak than all their other players combined. After it was over and just before they got back on the bus, they voted him their Most Valued Player.”
Neoma laughed with him, and damn if that didn’t make her look even prettier than normal under the bright ice cream parlor lights. It was only minutes until the restaurant closed and they were the only patrons left in the place. Scotty had fallen asleep a half hour before, his head pillowed on Gabe’s thigh; Neoma, on the other hand, was wide awake and Gabe was anything but tired. It had been a good night. The more he smiled at her, doing his best to regale her with stories from his past, the more she smiled back at him. She was beautiful when she smiled, Gabe decided. For the first time, her mouse of a mask was completely gone and her sparkling blue eyes were unguarded, and he loved her laugh. Someone really ought to dedicate his life to making sure she laughed like this daily and often.
It might just have to be him. A slow tightening pulled at his groin as she got her giggles under control enough to steal a bite of her melting banana split. She got a tiny dab of strawberry syrup on the bow of her upper lip. He could almost taste the sweetness when she licked it off again.
“Do you still coach?” she asked, pushing the half-finished sundae away.
“Only during the summer when school is out. Gives parents a break from daycare costs, and I don’t mind it. I like kids.” He saw the dip of her gaze when she glanced at Scotty, then quickly away again. She blushed.
As much as he tried to think it a trick of the parlor lights, he knew better. That rosy flush of hers blossomed not just on her cheeks, but down her neck onto her chest. It was the same way she had blushed when he’d been inside her, bringing her smaller body to that hard shaking climax under his. That made his mouth ache to sample a sweetness of a whole different sort. It made him wonder if she knew just how much things were going to change when he took her home tonight. Scotty had his own bed in his own room now, and even if he didn’t yet have a brand new mattress to put on it, he would be sleeping there tonight. Neoma, on the other hand, would be in his bed, and Gabe had no intention of sleeping on the couch. As he watched her shyly wiping drops of condensation off the table with her napkin, he couldn’t help but wonder if the reason for her blush weren’t because she’d already come to the same conclusion.
“Your turn,” Gabe said, redirecting his attention back to conversation. The last thing he wanted was to walk out of here with a rampant erection tenting the front of his j
eans. “Tell me something about you.”
Her smile didn’t quite die, but it did dim.
“There’s nothing really to tell,” she hedged, refolding her napkin to wipe down her small corner of the table again.
“Sure there is,” he countered. “Just because you don’t want to tell it, doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be said. We promised each other a story for a story. I told you mine; your turn. Give.”
Her smile dimmed even more. No longer pretending interest in cleaning the table, she sat folding and unfolding the damp napkin. She wasn’t even looking at him now. “I can’t think of any funny ones.”
“It can’t be all bad,” he coaxed. “Not even in Scullamy.”
The look she shot him said clearly, Wanna bet?
A little voice in the back of his head whispered to let it drop, but Gabe’s curiosity got the best of him. “Tell me about Scotty. Tell me about the day he was born.”
Having never met a mother who didn’t recount her child’s birth with joy and pride, he was a little surprised when that didn’t bring the smile back to her eyes. She folded the napkin into smaller and smaller segments.
“I was in labor for two days,” she finally offered. “They said his head got stuck because I was so young.”
“How young?” he asked, already suspecting he really didn’t want to know.
“I was fifteen.”
Gabe did the math, adding nine months for her pregnancy and sat back in his half of the booth fighting hard to hide how much deeper his hatred for Deacon just descended.
“We had midwives,” she said, “but no doctors back then and the hospital was for the chevolak. My mother begged, but the Alpha refused to let her take me there. No one knew where Matson had gone, but as much as it hurt and as scared as I was, I didn’t want them to find him.”
“Matson was Scotty’s father?” Gabe asked, wishing now he’d followed his instincts and not pressed her.
Neoma nodded.
“Is he the one who put the scars on your back?”