by M. L. Briers
“A weed then?” she gave a small shrug.
“Not a weed,” he shook his head again…
“We’ve got weeds that we just can’t get rid of. You pull them up and the roots are still there, and they grow back … you squirt them with that weed killer and they grow back … oh yeah!” She exclaimed with bright, wide eyes, “good analogy!”
Paul opened his mouth to speak and yet he couldn’t seem to find the words. He’d somehow equated himself with being a damn weed in her mind, and what the heck was he supposed to say to that?
“A weed…” he muttered.
“You’re a weed,” she chuckled and nodded.
~
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~
Dane sat on the window seat and stared out of the picture window that had the best view of pack land. With his feet up on the seat and his back pressed against the wall, he considered that spot all his.
It was his go-to place where he went when he wanted to mull things over. When his brothers were being a pain in the backside, which was frequently, and now he had a mate who was a pain somewhere else… literally, and another reason to need a quiet bolthole.
He heard the soft footsteps on the wooden staircase and the unfamiliar sound snagged his attention. He scented the air and found her there … his mate … the she-demon … the ball-breaker.
He sighed inwardly, even though his beast rallied and his heart battered against his ribcage. He guessed that she’d come back for another shot.
Rory spotted him on the seat, framed by the large window, and her heart played Thumper the rabbit against her ribs. His head was turned away and he was staring out of the window, and yet, from the way that he held himself, she guessed that he’d known it was her coming up the stairs.
“Can I come up?” Rory announced herself as she quickly eyed the room.
It was bright and clean, and even thought it held no furniture other than a large old sofa that had seen better days, there was something about that room that spoke to her.
“I’m sitting down, it might be hard to take a pot shot from there,” Dane offered back. His deep tones echoed off the walls a little and seemed to come at her from all directions.
“I wanted to apologise,” she hadn’t moved off the very last step, somehow sensing that the space he occupied was his domain. “I’m sorry…” she offered, and then she turned on her heels and went to start back down the steps.
“I guess…” Dane grunted… “I was jealous … or … something,” he offered back.
The moment that he’d scented her he had half a mind on telling her to get out and half a mind on dashing over towards her and begging her not to go. His beast liked the second option.
“I guess we were both being … idiots,” she turned back towards him and saw that he’d swivelled on the seat, and now his feet were on the floor and he was looking straight at her. His eyes were narrowed and intense.
“Come on in,” Dane pushed up to his feet and suddenly the room felt a lot smaller to her, and that window seemed to disappear behind him. He noted the way that she hesitated… “If you look out of this window you can see the whole of pack land on this side, right down to the river…”
He kept talking in the hopes that it would entice her to take that very last step. It did and he was grateful for it.
“There’s a river on top of a mountain?” Rory frowned.
“Sure, a lot of mountains have rivers and streams. Where else would the snow melt go?” Dane motioned towards her, beckoning her to move closer, and he was actually surprised when she did…”If you look now, just as the night closes in, you can actually see the last of the light hitting the river and making it look a cool ice blue.”
Rory closed the distance between them. She wanted to see the river, but she wasn’t entirely sure that the river was actually the biggest selling point in her decision.
Dane stepped aside to allow her to see the view, and he watched for her reaction as she looked at it for the very first time. He kind of hoped that she saw what he saw when he looked out … nature’s true majesty.
From the way that her eyes lit up and a smile took her lips, he guessed that she did.
“It’s impressive,” Rory said.
She was only too aware of just how close to him she was. She could feel the heat that came off of his body, and she guessed that, in his arms, you’d never be cold in winter…
In his arms?
Heaven help me where did that come from?
I don’t want to be in his arms…
I don’t want to be in his general vicinity … at least … not in that respect.
Still, he’d make someone a great electric blanket…
Someone …?
Well, he wouldn’t get the chance … I am his chance … I’m his mate and if he doesn’t have me…
I don’t want to think about that.
That’s not my responsibility … that’s all fates doing.
Jessica is right … we didn’t ask to be mates…
I’ve already maimed the man … that doesn’t mean I should let him go rogue…
Ah, what are the odds?
It can’t be all bad. He’s young and healthy … Who’s to say that he’ll go rogue?
Who’s to say that he won’t?
That’s a damn catch twenty two … it’s the chicken and the egg all over again.
I can’t know if he’ll go rogue until he does…
Fate is pain in the…
“Penny for them?” Dane’s deep voice knocked her out of her musings and she snapped her head towards him and looked more than a little guilty.
“What? No!” she shook her head fast.
“That bad, and about me no less,” he narrowed his eyes on her and watched her squirm a little under his gaze.
“Not … not about you,” she grimaced.
“It’s only fair that you share, as I own ownership of me,” Dane offered back, teasing her so that she squirmed a little more.
“That’s not how it works,” she grumbled back.
“Sure?”
“Positive,” she shot back. She wasn’t giving up even one of those thoughts that she’d had.
“Okay, I get it, you don’t like to share,” he shrugged.
“I share,” she shot back and could have kicked herself for those words when he grinned back at her, somewhat victoriously.
Would you just learn to filter! She berated herself.
Dane folded his large arms across his impressively broad chest and gave her an expectant look.
“Not with you,” she said a little more meekly.
“I shared this view with you,” he offered back, playful once more.
“Nobody held a gun to your head,” she rallied back and he chuckled.
“Okay, fine. Keep your thoughts to yourself and I can just imagine what they were…” he gave another small shrug, “me naked, probably.”
“Say what?” She gave a small shriek that pinged the inside of his brain and made his ears hurt, but he was on a roll. He’d got her talking and there was no sign of that knee coming out to play…
CHAPTER TWENTY
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“Yeah, naked and …” Dane growled, now he was having thoughts, and it wasn’t just about him being naked.
“Naked is good!” Rory bit out, neither wanting nor needing to hear any more than that, but when she tossed him a sideways glance, he was grinning like he’d just won a really big bet…
What the hell is he smiling about?
Did he fart or something?
What’d I say?
Naked is goo… Oh…!
“Not good as in good-good… of the goodiness – good” she groaned inwardly, both at her fubar and at her rambling … “but if that’s how your mind works…” she turned it back on him.
“Yours too, obviously,” he chuckled back with a wolfish grin that made her want to hit herself over the head with a really big sledgehammer, just as a future reminder to filter her damn words bef
ore they came out of her mouth and got her in even more trouble…
“Trust me when I say that I have no inclination to see you naked.” She stated that as fact, and yet somewhere deep within her mind … in one of those dark little corners … she knew that was a lie.
“If you say so,” he didn’t sound convinced … and neither was she, but that wasn’t the point, she couldn’t tell him that, now could she?
“Just …” she bit down on the frustration that rushed through her. She’d dug herself into a great big hole and there was no way that she was getting out of it. “Drop it.” She bit out to the sound of a hearty chuckle.
“You know, you go a lovely shade of red when you get all defensive?”
“I’m not defensive,” she protested her innocence.
“You sound defensive.” He was mocking her now and she didn’t appreciate it one little bit.
“I do not sound…” she heard it in her own voice and snapped off her words on a huff. “I’m not going to argue the toss with somebody who won’t listen to reason when it’s staring him right in the face.”
“That’s your story and you’re sticking to it,” he offered back with the same indignant tone that she had used, and she shot him a glare.
“And I’m not sorry I kicked you in the balls!” She huffed out as she spun on her heels and went to stalk away.
When he reached out a hand and snagged her sweater, yanking her backwards, and throwing her of balance, she let out a small shriek…
So much for the hasty retreat! She grumbled.
“You already apologised, you can’t take it back,” Dane chuckled, as he caught her in his arms and locked them around her.
She felt good there. Her back was against his chest, his arms around her soft body … she felt real good … and she smelled divine…
His beast rallied within him.
“I can and I do, and you can let me the hell go before I…”
“What? I think you’re facing the wrong way to kick me in the balls again,” he chuckled on another tease.
“Doesn’t mean I can’t zap you!” She scowled, but for the strangest reason that she couldn’t quite put her finger on … the last thing that she wanted to do was cause the man anymore pain.
Maybe it had been guilt, tap-tap-tapping her on the shoulder that had flipped the switch within her mind.
“I accept your apology…” Dane’s voice was a low and deep whisper against her ear, and she tried to still the shiver that ran through her body, but couldn’t quite manage it. “And I don’t mind you picturing me naked.”
Rory bit down on the need that she had to spit out every single curse word that she had ever heard in her life.
The man was a butthead … beyond annoying … but still, she couldn’t help the smile that cracked her lips.
~
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~
Luke had watched his mate sitting there on tender hooks for the first few minutes after that yelp had gone up. Like a mama bear ready to chase into the fight, strike out, and defend her young.
Five minutes in, with a few good sips on the Scotch under her belt, and she’d finally started to relax a little.
Now she looked a little more settled sitting in the comfortable chair by the window with her feet drawn up to the side of her, and the glass of Scotch in her hand. That sight made Luke feel settled too.
“See, you didn’t rush into the fray, and the world is still turning,” Luke offered that little gem of insight, and she gave the sweetest smile back.
“Yes, but I haven’t seen the collateral damage from myself yet,” she gave a little chuckle at the thought of what her daughters were getting up to. Knowing them as she did, wooing wasn’t going to be plain sailing for their mates.
“Well I’m sure if anything really earth shattering takes place then we’ll get to hear about.”
“Unless it’s total annihilation,” she had a somewhat gleeful, teasing look in her eyes as she stared back at him across the way, and Luke rumbled a chuckle as he slowly shook his head.
“Always look on the bright side…” He grinned.
“Monty Python knew their stuff.”
“So tell me about you…” Luke asked.
He itched to know more, and getting her mind off of her family and back to the present couldn’t hurt thing between them either.
“You’ve seen most of it. Three daughters, one cantankerous mother, and the craft. That just sums me up and takes most of my time.”
“There’s more…”
“Not really, what you see is what you get, much like you I would imagine.”
“I’m guessing you are one of those people that don’t like talking about themselves,” Luke pushed in the hopes of getting her to open up more.
“Maybe I should see how my mother’s getting on,” Abi said as she went to push up from her chair.
“Do you really have the urgent need to spend time with your mother?” Luke asked as she was halfway up from the seat. She hovered in the air then, thinking, and then dropped her backside back down against the cushion once more.
“Now that you mention it…”
“You don’t like pushy people.” He offered his observation on why she’d gone to run off on him.
“I don’t know you well enough to judge…” She said with a mischievous grin on her face, and Luke gave a small chuckle as he nodded his head in understanding.
“I get the message.”
“Is it just me or do you feel a little too…?” Abi search for the right word.
“Old for this?” Luke offered back.
“Yeah, kind of,” she gave him a sheepish look and he gave her a damn sexy grin right back.
“I’m told you’re as old as you feel.”
“I thought it was; you’re as old as the woman you feel…” That sparked another low rumble of the growl. This time it was a little longer, and a little hungrier.
Abi made a mental note to watch what she said in future, unless of course, she meant it.
“I like your version better,” Luke growled.
Even his eyes had a hungry look about them now – they’d darkened, and she guessed she knew just how his wolf’s prey felt.
“I’ll bet you do.”
It was strange. There she was in her late forties feeling like a schoolgirl again.
How did that happen?
How did he make her feel like that? Like there was a whole world of possibilities out there just waiting for her – when she’d basically resigned herself to the rest of her life alone with a cat!
The man had a little magic of his own.
“You don’t?” Luke raised those expressive eyebrows back at her and she wanted to giggle like a teenager … it might have been the Scotch, but she had the distinct feeling that it was probably more to do with him.
The man was engaging, she’d give him that. One look into those darkening eyes and she was stuck, lost, and at the mercy of her brain that wouldn’t seem to let her eyes wander away.
He had the sexiest smile that she’d ever seen, full of promises and delights, and those damn eyebrows of his – rising and falling – doing little quirks, and trying to meet in the middle over his nose, well they seemed to have a life all of their own.
Yep, she was stuck looking at him alright. The thing was … she didn’t mind it one little bit.
Then there was that voice. Deep and gravelly, and full of a sensual goodness that seemed to run over her skin like satin, drawing her in, and setting her insides fluttering like a billion butterflies had taken to the wing.
Was there anything about the man not to like?
If there was, she hadn’t found it yet…
“I bet you leave the toilet seat up and your stinky socks all over the floor, right?” She rallied back – not really deliberately trying to change the subject, more, how her chain of thought had gone off in another direction.
For one long moment he seemed flabbergasted, blindsided by the question that had come
out of left field…
“I… do leave the toilet seat up, because I live alone, but I assure you I can be retrained, and not like a dog, and I don’t tend to wear socks, but when I do, I haven’t noticed a smell, and I know where the washing basket is…” he gave another gentle chuckle, and those eyebrows of his were at it again.
Abi gave a low grunt. Those weren’t the answers that she was looking for, because now she still hadn’t found something wrong with him.
Not a chink in his armour.
Not a reason to run for the hills … not that stinky socks and a toilet seat was going to make her do that…
She just wanted to know that Mr Seems Perfect wasn’t all that he appeared to be. That she wasn’t seeing him through rose coloured glasses … or Scotch coloured glasses.
“You want me to leave the seat up and stinky socks on the floor, because I guess if that’s a requirement of your needs in a good mate then Paul’s feet stink, I’m sure I can get him to…” Luke was back to playfully teasing her. She could tell by the way that his eyebrows were dancing and the amusement within his eyes.
“I’m trying to find out what’s wrong with you,” Abi thought she might as well throw that out there, fess up, tell the truth of it, because otherwise he might think that she was a mental person, if he didn’t already.
“Does there have to be something wrong with me?” Luke shot back on another grin…
“Nobody is perfect,” Abi stated.
“But you’ve come to the conclusion that I am?”
Abi saw the way that he sat up a little straighter. Watched his chest puff out with pride, and then there was a small smug grin on his face…
“Ha! There…” she lifted her hand and pointed a finger at him, and a confused look snapped onto his face… “Pride!”
She felt a moment of victory, followed by another long moment of stupidity. Pride wasn’t exactly a problem … it might have been one of those fabled deadly sins, but who was she to judge?
“Ok,” she waved a dismissive hand, “scratch that.”
“Wanna tell me again why you’re looking for what’s wrong with me?” Luke wondered exactly what it was that she was hoping to find … a reason not to be with him…?