“It’s the mechanic, isn’t it?”
“I’m busy.” She hunched over her laptop.
“I’m gonna call him and tell him how mopey you are.” Matt popped a wheelie in his chair and rolled out of the room.
“You don’t have his number.”
“I do now.” Matt returned, waving a large yellow envelope. “The building manager dropped this off.”
He dumped the contents of the envelope into his lap. Two sets of keys fell out. One set she’d never seen before. The other was hers.
“There’s a note.” He handed it to Grace.
The slightly sloppy handwriting simply stated that the black Accord parked next to Grace’s car in the lot now belonged to Matt. The name and number of a mechanic in Knoxville were listed, in case Matt needed adjustments to the hand controls that had been installed. Below Rafe’s name, seemingly an afterthought, were the words, If Grace needs anything, call me. Followed by his number.
“That’s it?” Her voice was sharp and Matt laughed.
“What were you expecting? A love letter?” He popped his front wheels in the air and turned his chair around. “Come on. I want to take my new ride for a spin.”
He wheeled out of her room, head bopping to some tune running through his head.
Grace lifted the note to her nose. It didn’t smell like anything, and it was stupid to have thought it might hold Rafe’s scent the way his clothes did.
Not one personal sentence addressed to her.
How much lower could her heart sink?
She closed her eyes, trying to feel him. Nothing, absolutely nothing.
Squinting, she tried again.
“Are you constipated or something?” Matt’s voice startled her from the doorway.
“I’m building up my nerve to let you drive.” She pushed away from her desk. “You scare the daylights out of me.”
“Yet you’re the one who wrecked her car.”
“Don’t remind me.” Because she might’ve wrecked her life, too.
Chapter 42
It will get easier, they said.
When, goddamn it? When?
Six weeks had passed and being separated from Grace, in a way, felt worse than losing his first mate. Grace was alive and only four-and-a-half hours away. Every primal instinct Rafe had beckoned him to drive to Knoxville and bring her back. To make her his, now and for always.
Instead, Rafe dragged himself out of his new red Range Rover and glanced around the crowded parking lot. His heart raced, his breathing fell out of rhythm, his mouth turned dry and his stomach seemed to fist around his throat.
He shut the truck door without locking it. If someone pilfered the brown bag on his front seat, well, that would be a good thing.
Inside Taylor’s, the rumble of voices, the music, the saturating scents, the sea of faces, all weighted his senses like a heavy blanket. The weeknight rendezvous with Brice and Tristan had become part of Rafe’s new routine. He didn’t dare miss because they would worry, and his friends had spent too much time worrying about him.
After Grace left, he convinced himself she would be back someday.
Someday turned out to be a lot longer than expected. She continued tutoring Alex through a video chat, so occasionally Rafe caught a glimpse of her on the laptop, when he timed it just right to go into Doc’s kitchen for something to drink or to retrieve something he’d purposely left on the counter.
They never talked, just exchanged awkward smiles or nods. Most days, he simply lingered out of sight, listening to her voice.
She sounded happy. Why wouldn’t she? She wasn’t the brooding type; she looked for reasons to be happy. Lived each moment, found delight in the tiniest things.
Unorganized and unsettled, she had completely upended his life. He loved her sense of wonder and amazement. Hell, he plain loved her.
“Where’s Tristan?” Rafe slid into the booth.
Brice hiked his thumb toward the dance floor. “We were beginning to think you weren’t showing tonight.”
“Stopped to help a motorist with a flat.” Coming back from a place he didn’t purposely drive to and never should’ve been.
The waitress sat a frosted beer mug in front of Tristan’s empty spot and handed Brice a similar mug.
Rafe’s mouth watered, not for the beer in Brice’s hand but for the bottle inside the brown bag sitting on the seat inside the Rover.
The waitress slid Rafe a large iced tea. “Hey, handsome. I’m off at ten. Save a dance for me?”
“Not tonight, Angeline.” Rafe sucked a mouthful of his drink. The cold, sweetness wet his tongue as he swallowed, but did nothing to quench his thirst.
She winked. “One of these days, you’re going to say yes.”
Rafe doubted he would. Angeline was a lovely she-wolf, but she’d have sex with anything willing to hump.
He like sharing his bed, his life, with one woman. He liked sex as much as anyone, but for him it wasn’t just about the physical feel-good. He craved the closeness of sharing not only bodies, but souls.
Grace’s soul had touched his, and he really, really missed her.
Eventually, he’d have to have sex again. He’d missed one full moon. Tonight would be the second. He shouldn’t miss many more.
He’d not gone back to Loretta. It wouldn’t be fair to her, even though she’d come around to test the waters. She wanted something he couldn’t give and deserved the chance to find it with someone who could love her.
“The renovations are complete,” Brice said. His grandmother’s cabin was where he and Cassie had met, and where they had lived, but the two-bedroom cottage wasn’t large enough to accommodate the family they wanted. So they’d built up and out, keeping as much of the original homestead intact as possible. “We’re moving back in this weekend. I need your help setting up the furniture.”
Rafe nodded.
Brice wiped the condensation from his mug. “Grace is coming.”
“She’s not ready to see me.” Rafe played with the paper from his straw. He hoped he would know if and when she was. Hoped he’d feel it to the marrow of his bones. Right now, he simply felt empty.
“I understand how you feel.” Brice leaned forward, elbows resting on the table. He and Cassie had faced their own separation in the beginning of their relationship. “Don’t give up on the mate-bond.”
“I’m trying not to. But as each day passes it gets harder.”
“I know it’s hard. I’ve been where you are. Cassie and I were separated for three months before things were right again.”
“That was different. You were in another country. Grace is only a few hours away.”
“Be patient and believe in her, man. Be the constant she’s never had.”
The problem was, Grace was like a river, always moving. Sometimes changing direction, but never stopping.
After all he’d put her through, why would she change for him?
* * *
“Rafe!”
Grace sat up, clutching the sheet to her sweat-dampened breasts. Her gaze darted around the bedroom. The soft flicker of light from the TV kept the darkness at bay, but not the monsters from her dreams.
Usually when her nightmares began, a sense of Rafe’s presence would flood her mind. She never saw him in those dreams, but somehow she knew he was there. Keeping her safe.
She missed him. Missed him to the depths of her soul.
He’d caused her car accident, revealed to her that werewolves really do exist, seduced her and rescued her from a burning building.
And she loved him for it. For all of it.
That was the real nightmare.
She loved him and she’d left. When he’d needed her, she’d left.
It was for his own good. If she’d stayed through his recovery, their bond would have grown s
tronger.
She needed it to wither away, or else he’d never find his real true love.
Grace climbed out of bed, padded to the dresser and changed into the shirt she’d borrowed from Rafe the morning after the accident. He’d left it folded on the passenger seat of her Beetle.
Grace’s chest tightened. She hadn’t called, texted or emailed him since saying goodbye.
Even though her heart swelled with gratitude when Matt got to drive his new car with the hand controls, she didn’t call Rafe.
He hadn’t called, texted or emailed her, either.
He could’ve attached a brief note to her when he wrote the one to Matt. A simple “Hi, Grace” would’ve been enough.
She got nada.
She ran her hands up and down the shirtsleeves. Usually, the simple action brought her immediate warmth. A feeling of safety and assurance.
Tonight she felt cold. Bone cold.
She fluffed her pillow, jumped back into bed and grabbed her phone off the nightstand.
She scanned through the status updates of her TouchBase friends. With friends all over the world, she’d never felt more alone.
Unable to shake the icky residue from her nightmare, Grace sent an impulsive text.
Are you there?
Her heart thumped hard against her chest.
He wouldn’t answer. It was after two in the morning. He was asleep.
Seconds turned into minutes without a response. If her nightmare had been a premonition... She shivered.
Rafe was the strongest, most steadfast man she knew. He wouldn’t stumble, not after almost a year of sobriety.
In the dream, she’d felt the depths of his despair, the aching loneliness and utter futility.
But he wouldn’t be alone tonight.
Tonight was the second full moon since her departure. He’d moved on to another full-moon partner by now. Or went back to Loretta.
Grace’s stomach clenched.
It made her uncomfortable and sad to think of Rafe with another woman.
She curled on her side, holding the phone to her chest, wishing she could be the woman he needed.
As she dozed off, the phone vibrated and sang the Alan Jackson tune she’d set as Rafe’s ringtone.
“Hello?” She sat up, her heart kicking an excited beat.
“I’m here, sweetheart.” Rafe’s voice was soft and raw, and melted the clinging shadows of her dream.
“I had a nightmare.” She resettled against her pillow.
Rafe didn’t say anything. Knowing he was there was enough. Okay, maybe not enough, but comforting.
She heard a rustle, a clink and silence. He was on the move, quiet, prowling. To the kitchen or bathroom? She heard running water.
“Are you doing okay?” Maybe she shouldn’t ask, but it was something she asked any friend when reconnecting, and this was what she was doing, right? Reconnecting?
Should she do this?
Could she do this?
Rafe had said he loved her. Was it too soon?
A heavy sigh warmed her ear. He didn’t say “Peachy,” which was good, because he usually meant it sarcastically.
He didn’t say anything at all, but his voice, his words whispered through her mind, “I miss you.”
“Matt loves the car,” she said, instead of telling Rafe how often she thought of him. “It’s everything he wanted in an accessible vehicle.”
Grace wiggled into a cozy, comfortable spot on her mattress and tucked the covers beneath her chin. She guessed Rafe did the same from the familiar squeak of his weight sinking into a mattress.
She imagined his warmth beneath the covers, his body spooned against her. She loved the way he slept pressed against her, a shield against her fears.
He’d told her once that something connected them on more than a physical level. She wondered if that’s how he chased the monsters away in her dreams. More than that, she wondered what he dreamed.
* * *
Grace snorted awake. Her body hummed and tingled, and when she stretched, her muscles were sore. Muscles that were sore after great sex.
The sheet had tangled around her body. The shirt she’d changed into after her nightmare was on the floor.
Not again!
For Pete’s sake. She’d had the most vivid, erotic dream after falling asleep talking to Rafe, and now her brain defaulted to the sexual fantasy every night.
The next morning, she’d dreamed that Rafe, instead of saying goodbye, promised in a sleepy, sexy voice, “I’ll be here whenever you need me. Always.”
She heard him say it every morning, seconds before she awoke.
If talking to him on the phone incited powerful sex dreams, what would happen when she saw him in person?
Chapter 43
Minutes before ten, Rafe walked into the emergency department summoned by Grace’s text. It had been nearly three months since she had left him, and six weeks since they had talked on the phone.
She wouldn’t stay out of his dreams, though.
Sometimes they sat together and watched a sunset or sunrise in some place she’d visited in her past. Sometimes she rode alongside him on a routine roadside assistance call, or had dinner with him at Doc’s or danced at Taylor’s. Wherever they were, they always had sex.
Not that he minded the least little bit.
He wanted to believe the dreams were manifestations of the mate-bond, not a coping mechanism he’d defaulted to using. The longer they went on, the worse his fear of becoming addicted to the dreams grew.
He’d tried to put an end to the nightly escapades. Each time he tried, his determination failed because, really, would he ever say no to sex with Grace? Even dream sex?
Uh, no. Hell, no.
But, he wanted more than a fantasy life with her. He deserved more, and he could finally admit that he did.
For a long time, Rafe had tried to be the man he thought Doc and the others wanted him to be. Recent months had taught him that eventually all facades fail.
Rafe had to accept who and what he was at the core of his being. From changing hairstyles and clothes, to a new vehicle and a new business, for the first time, Rafe felt comfortable in his own skin.
Through the glass inserts in the double security doors, he saw Doc talking with Cassie, Brice and Grace. Every time Grace looked over, Rafe gave her a slight nod, smile or finger wave of assurance.
When they disappeared down the corridor, Rafe circled around the back way to the wolfan waiting area in the west wing. The pack would start filtering in shortly to await the birth of the newest Alpha-heir.
He picked a comfortable spot, pulled the cap over his eyes and settled in for a long wait.
He had a lot to do in the coming days. The R&L had been rebuilt as Wyatt Automotive Services with more service bays. He needed to interview and hire a couple of qualified mechanics to help with the work. Alex had been one of the first to put in his application for a part-time job after school. The kid had an automatic in, but Rafe intended to put him through the interview process for the experience.
Ronni was finishing up some sewing projects he’d hired her to do, but with Cassie’s baby coming almost a week early, Ronni wouldn’t finish in time for what Rafe had planned.
People filtered into the waiting room. Some huddled near him, speaking in hushed whispers, but he knew they wanted him to speak up and give them news.
Well, when he had something to tell them, he would. Until then, he needed a nap.
Fifteen hours later, his phone pinged with a text picture from Grace of Brice holding his newborn daughter, the first female wolfling born into the Walker line since the pack’s inception.
“We have a new Alpha wolfling.” Rafe stood, holding up the phone so everyone could see. “Brenna Elizabeth Walker. Daughter of Brice, son of Gavin,
son of Nathan, son of Abram, son of...” Rafe continued the rote recitation of male descendants all the way back to Isom Walker, the first Alpha of Walker’s Run.
Celebratory howls went up in the soundproof room. Rafe tucked the phone into his pocket and started toward the door. A nurse in scrubs opened it before he reached it.
“They’re waiting for you,” she said.
He followed the nurse down the corridor, although he could’ve found his way without her guidance. Every cell in his body had honed in on Grace’s presence.
As he entered the room, his heart stopped him dead in his tracks. Grace’s stellar smile brightened the room. She laughed and spoke baby talk to the infant in her arms.
Longing erupted in his chest. This was what he wanted to his very core.
“This is your Uncle Rafe.” She walked toward him with the baby. “Sometimes he’s a little grumpy, but he’ll always be there if you need him.”
Rafe gently stroked Brenna’s cheek. Eyes closed, she turned her head toward his hand, her pert little nose twitching for his scent. Her tiny fingers grasped his thumb, pulling it toward her mouth to suck. One eyelid slid partially open to peek at him.
“She’s gonna be trouble.” He grinned at Brice.
“I hope she gives her daddy hell.” Gavin laughed. “He deserves it.”
Abby playfully elbowed him. “We want her to be a lady, not a hooligan.”
“My wish for you, little girl, is to have all the happiness your heart can hold and may it last a lifetime.” Rafe kissed the baby’s forehead.
“All right, everyone.” Doc clasped his hands. “Let’s give Brenna and her parents some time alone. They need the rest, and all of us need some, too.”
“Video everything.” Grace returned Brenna to her mother. “Well, not the breast-feeding or the diaper changing.” Grace grimaced. “Everything else, though. The cooing and aahing. You know, the good stuff.”
Cassie saluted, then laughed.
“Want to grab something to eat?” Rafe asked, walking Grace to the parking lot.
“I don’t have the energy to go anywhere.”
Rafe fished a half-eaten package of crackers from the pocket of his shorts.
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