by Dannika Dark
But Mel, she was another story. Since Izzy was giving her a collection of beads and scrap material for designing clothes, April didn’t want to eclipse her gift with something similar. She figured an idea would come to her eventually, but now it was the eleventh hour, and she still didn’t have a clue.
At least she’d taken care of Reno.
Last month, April remembered a box of tools Reno had been eyeing earlier that year. His were rusty antiques, and some were missing. Even though they rarely exchanged gifts, April purchased the tools on the sly. He enjoyed working on his bike and fixing things around the house. Maybe it wasn’t the most extravagant gift she could have come up with, but Reno was too cheap with himself. He deserved something special.
She scanned the bottom row and spotted crackle nail polish. Was that still in fashion? She lifted the black bottle and then snatched up a few of the less horrific shades of pink for a base coat.
“I can’t just get her nail polish,” she muttered, staring into the empty basket. If only Mel was into reading. April knew all the best books, but there weren’t many avid readers living in the Weston pack.
She spun around and crashed into a guy. “Holy smokes!”
April lost her balance and almost careened into a shelf before the man clutched her arms. “Whoa,” he said with a deep chuckle. “Slow down there.”
She peered up at the older man. His salt-and-pepper beard was mostly salt, and his blue eyes twinkled like crystal waters beneath a summer sky.
April grimaced when a button popped off his red flannel shirt from where her fists were grasping. She finally untangled her legs and stood up straight. “I’m sorry about that.”
“I’m not.” He continued smiling blithely at her, and that’s when she sensed he was Breed.
Since April had become a Mage, she’d developed the ability to tell humans apart from Breed by their energy. Though what exactly they were remained a mystery.
The man glanced in her basket. “Last-minute shopping?” He showed off his empty basket. “Me too. Got any ideas for what to get an ornery old woman who never leaves the house?”
“Cable?”
He chortled. “I got her a dish last year. We promised no gifts, but you know how that goes,” he said with a friendly wink.
April fiddled with a beaded bracelet around her wrist. “I’m trying to find something for my niece. She just turned seventeen.”
The man stroked his beard. “That doesn’t seem too challenging.”
“You don’t know Melody. She’s an archer who likes to sew. I can’t get her anything to do with sewing since her mother is taking care of that.” April touched the man’s arm. “I’m sorry to bore you. I’ll let you get back to your shopping.”
“Not at all,” he replied, his voice resonant and warm. “I don’t get out much. It’s good to talk to someone besides the wife. You strike me as a lovely person, and I’m sure your niece will like whatever you give her.” He held up one finger, his cheeks rosy. “Just remember, it’s the thought that counts.”
April glanced in her basket. “This seems pretty thoughtless. A few cheap bottles of polish—not even something she wants. Holidays are so much easier when the kids are little. Now that she’s all grown up, I want to put more thought into her gifts. Serves me right for waiting until the last minute.”
Her spirit sagged along with her shoulders as a jovial Christmas song played on the intercom. Sure, she could buy a gift card, but that was about as exciting as giving her a wad of cash.
The man circled his finger over a loose thread where his button once was. “Let me give you a piece of advice,” he began. “Don’t waste precious time fretting over the things that don’t really matter. Love, health, happiness—those things matter. Gifts under the tree? Not so much. The fates will give us what we’ve earned. Merry Christmas, young one.”
A bell jingled when he disappeared around the corner.
The store was bustling with shoppers wrapped up in winter coats and long scarves, and their eyes told the story that they were all in the same predicament. A few had prescriptions to fill, but the vast majority wandered the aisles like postapocalyptic survivors in search of supplies.
April hurried to the back to see if there was anything good she’d overlooked, but the only thing she found were first aid supplies and clearance items. “Gee, thanks, Aunt April. I always wanted a tube of ointment.”
“Mmm, I could use some ointment,” Reno murmured from behind.
April spun around. “Ointment and lube are not the same.” She wrinkled her nose. “Why do you smell like… Exactly what is that smell?”
He organized a few boxes of bandages on the shelf. “Ran into an older lady who couldn’t decide which lotion she wanted to give her husband, so she rubbed it all over my neck and took a whiff.”
April bubbled with laughter and gripped the opening of his leather jacket. “You’re such a nice guy. That’s why I fell in love with you.”
“I thought it was my six-pack.” His eyes glittered with amusement as he looked down at her with pure adoration in those coffee-brown eyes. Reno was a big guy with a tough demeanor, but he had a heart of gold beneath that macho exterior. He could melt her heart with a single glance, and he was thoughtful in ways that most men weren’t.
Reno gently brushed his knuckles against her cheek. “We need to head home before the next band of snow showers moves through. Don’t worry about the kids, princess. They don’t need a bunch of shit. We didn’t raise them to think that way.”
“I know. It’s just that… I grew up doing without, and…”
April’s doleful eyes looked down at her empty basket, the cheap bottles rolling around and clacking against each other. It was a heck of a lot more than what she’d ever gotten for Christmas in the years following her father’s death. Maybe coming from nothing was what compelled her to give more, now that she had a good job and a nice home. Lexi was gifting Mel a special necklace that she’d had since she was a teen, and Naya’s gift was going to be a mentorship with one of her associates who worked in fashion. April wanted her present to mean something special, and what she’d picked out was embarrassingly inadequate.
Reno wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off her feet. He pressed a chaste kiss to her mouth and began walking. “I don’t like that look. My girl isn’t going to be sad on Christmas. I ain’t gonna sugarcoat it for you. If Mel doesn’t like that damn polish, we’re going to have words.”
April laughed against his thick neck as he weaved around a couple in the greeting card aisle. “I know you’re right, but it’s my fault for waiting—”
Reno cleared his throat. “Finish that sentence and I’m tossing you in the snow.”
She lifted her head and met his gaze. “Don’t even think about it, or we won’t be spooning for a week.”
He paused in front of the wrapping paper and smirked with those thin lips of his. “Yes, ma’am.”
Two women were gawking at them, undoubtedly wondering what a tough guy like Reno was doing holding a woman who thought fashion was oversized sweatpants tucked inside her brown Uggs.
She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him passionately, giving extra attention to the tiny scar on his lip. Despite the scented lotion on his neck, his musky cologne—right along with the light stubble on his face—was driving her wild. Her sudden public display of affection caught him off guard, and he took a step back, knocking over bags of tissue paper and ribbons.
“You can put me down now,” she whispered.
“Hot damn.” He set her down and pulled a box of candy off the shelf. “Kids like chocolate.”
Reno put his arm around her, and they went to the register to pay for the items. She swooned. No matter how many years passed, Reno always had a way of making her feel like they were a young couple in love.
As soon as they opened the door to leave, a gust of wind blew an army of snowflakes at them. April hurried to the Challenger, Reno right behind her. He opened her door an
d helped her in before crossing around to his side.
April shivered, still in disbelief that they were having such an unexpected white winter. She couldn’t remember the last time they had snow, let alone this much. They were comparing it to a snowstorm in the 1930s, so she had to laugh when she looked inside the store and saw a man walking around in a pair of long shorts and a light jacket.
Reno hopped in and slammed the door. “Damn, it’s nippy out there.”
“Not as nippy as it would have been on your bike.”
He put his hand on her upper thigh and gave it a light squeeze. “Your idea to take a car was better. It’s cozy in here. Roomy. And we’re not due back for another hour.”
“Is that so?” She smiled and averted her gaze out the window.
April was too old to be coy. Even though she’d stopped aging just shy of forty, a part of her would always feel like the young girl who fell in love with Reno all those years ago. The one who knew exactly what she wanted and yet was uncertain how to navigate through life’s difficult decisions.
Her breath fogged the window, and she drew a little heart.
“Is that a yes?” he asked, his voice smoky.
“Isn’t there some kind of sacred rule about having sex in your brother’s car?”
Reno squeezed her knee and slid his gaze down to her lips as she licked them. “Nope.”
April quickly realized this friendly game of flirtation was treading dangerous ground. “Reno, we can’t just hijack Austin’s car. And besides, there’s no room back there,” she said, turning to look in the backseat.
Her eyes widened.
Reno patted his seat. “Who says we have to get in the back? Let’s see how far this seat reclines. What’s wrong?”
How can this be? April looked around in disbelief. Reno had locked the doors before they went inside; she’d seen it with her own eyes.
“Reno, when did you buy that?”
“Buy what?” He shifted to see what held April’s attention. “What the fuck?”
Reno reached in the backseat and retrieved a leather quiver with a shiny red ribbon wrapped around it. Inside was a modest set of arrows fletched with feathers. “This bag is handmade.”
“I didn’t put it there.”
“Me neither.”
“Do you think Austin or Lexi stashed gifts in the car?”
He scanned their surroundings. “I cleaned it out before we left. It sure as hell wasn’t back there when we got here, and I locked both doors when we headed inside.”
April took the quiver and studied the craftsmanship. When something on the strap caught her eye, she tilted it to get a better look. Burned into the leather was one word: Melody.
A shiver ran down her spine.
This was exactly what Mel needed—a gift she would love. The quiver she used now was falling apart. Melody liked target practice, a skill acquired from her grandmother. Archery was a source of strength and accomplishment, and Melody was a natural.
“Is there something you’re not telling me?” Reno asked.
In disbelief, April regarded him for a moment and cracked a smile. “Yeah. I think I just met Santa Claus in the deodorant aisle.”
Chapter 3
Trevor and William
“It’s noon, and we’re still in bed,” Trevor grumbled. His complaint belied the satisfaction in his tone and reluctance to move, but he felt like he had to say something about their vegetative state.
William snuggled behind him and murmured against his neck. “I can’t think of any other place I’d rather be than right here, right now, with you.”
“Maybe we should make ourselves useful and shovel snow. They say we’re going to get eight more inches.”
Trevor sucked in a sharp breath when William’s hand roamed south.
“Indeed.”
It was Christmas Eve, and the holiday season had become a thing of tradition in the Weston pack. Maybe not normal tradition as depicted on television, but the pack spent their holiday playing pool, working puzzles, drinking, eating good food, and listening to the kids botch Christmas carols with their alternative versions. So Trevor felt a little shitty staying isolated in the bedroom.
Last night, Trevor and William retired early and stayed up half the night talking. Early that morning, they stayed in bed doing other things.
William had landed in Trevor’s life like a gift, and sometimes it seemed too good to be true. Trevor had never felt more connected to anyone. He grew up believing he was undeserving of not only love but also a pack. He had endured years of torment and abuse—verbal and physical—from his own packmates, who’d singled him out as different. Men who were supposed to honor brotherhood and protect their own. They made him ashamed of being a Shifter. After he split from the pack, the abuse continued in subsequent relationships. April had taught him to love his wolf, but it was William who taught Trevor to love himself.
William was the first man who had never berated or hit him, and it took Trevor time to get used to it. After all, he’d spent most of his life in the closet and always kept his relationships secret, so it was thrilling and equally terrifying when William would put his arm around him in public.
For the past two hours, they’d been lying in bed, listening to their pack bustling in the outside hall, occasionally knocking their fists against Trevor’s door in an effort to summon them out of bed.
Well, Trevor and William’s door.
After the mating ceremony, William moved out of his tiny downstairs room. Best of all, Trevor didn’t have to throw out his model airplanes to make room for his mate. Maybe a few extra drawers were full, but William didn’t even want to upgrade the bed from a full to a queen. He said he liked keeping it simple and even joked about downsizing to a twin.
Of the two, William was the protector. Sometimes he’d shift into his wolf and lie at the foot of the bed to guard Trevor, as if danger lurked in the wee hours of the night. William had witnessed a lot of tragedy in his time, and maybe that had something to do with him becoming the dominant one in the relationship. Trevor didn’t mind. He loved the feeling of having a protector—someone who would look out for him and always stand by his side. He’d never experienced that kind of unconditional devotion from a lover before.
Trevor turned around to face his mate. William’s messy curls were unruly and sexy—just like that short beard he was attempting to grow. Trevor pinched at it. “Are you going to keep this?”
“Perhaps. My face gets cold in the winter.”
Trevor nipped William’s stubbly chin. “As long as I can find your lips in there, I’m okay with it.”
William had a way of smiling with his brown eyes. They were large and expressive, and his gaze could stare right into a man’s soul. “Mustn’t get so attached to physical attributes. I’d still love you if you had a thick bed of chest hair or shaved your head.”
“Good, ’cause I was thinking about getting grills for my teeth.” He smiled wide. “What do you think? Gold or diamonds?”
William propped his head in his hand. “If you cap your teeth, I’ll still love you. We’ll just have to live in seclusion like two hermits. They’ll whisper about us at peace parties, and your gold teeth will become a cautionary tale for young children.”
Trevor shifted his naked body closer to William and kissed his Adam’s apple. “Ah, so you do care what other people think.”
“If that were true, I wouldn’t have proposed in a public place.”
“A bowling alley,” Trevor reminded him. “And the pack had no idea you were even gay.”
William drew in his bottom lip and wet it. “I concealed my sexuality to maintain stability within the pack, but you lived in the closet out of fear. Even now when we go out in public, you’re afraid to take my hand.”
Trevor rolled onto his back. William didn’t understand. He’d never endured the kind of ridicule and torment that Trevor had, and that kind of pain sank into your marrow and became a part of you. Public opinion meant little t
o him; it was the fear of being targeted. Now he had something to lose. “You were Lorenzo’s second-in-command, Will. We all know what a douche he can be. Are you telling me there wasn’t a sliver of fear behind your decision to stay quiet about it?”
William pinched his chin. “Not the same type of fear you’ve dealt with in the past. The beta is the glue that holds the pack together. If the pack can’t respect the second-in-command, then they won’t respect the Packmaster. I didn’t hide who I was in fear of persecution or even retaliation; I wanted to keep the peace. My motives were driven by the pack’s needs. But all that’s changed now.”
Trevor turned back on his side and focused on a tiny freckle on William’s left cheek. “You ever think about changing packs to promote yourself back to second?”
William tucked his arm beneath the pillow. “In the beginning I did. But what more could I want that I don’t have now? I’m not an egomaniac, and as the third in rank, I back Reno’s decisions. The pack respects me, and I’ve come to realize over the years what’s important.”
“And what’s that?”
William traced his finger down Trevor’s cheek. “Family. I didn’t have that connection with Enzo’s pack. You have to decide which sacrifices are worth making to live a fulfilled life. Wouldn’t you agree?”
The night-light went out, as did the sound of the heater. Their room was located in the center of the house where there weren’t any windows, so they were drenched in darkness.
Trevor pushed himself halfway up. “Was that the power?”
The sound of feet tramping down the stairs came from the end of the hall—probably the twins, who were on the brink of becoming young men. The two of them were a cohesive pair who respected each other and were eager to contribute to the pack. They helped Reno chop and stack wood, learned basic home repairs, and occasionally sat with Austin when he was discussing general Packmaster issues with the Council or other local Packmasters. Since the boys were alphas, Austin was grooming them for a future as strong leaders.