by Leela Ash
“The train’s arriving in fifteen minutes!” Rachel whined. “And Carmen really doesn’t want to use the bathroom here, it’s gross. We need a ride!”
“Carmen! Who’s Carmen?” Clark exclaimed.
“Just my best friend! We met in Anthropology,” Rachel stated. “She’s going to spend summer vacation with us.”
“Jesus Christ,” Clark growled. “I don’t get a say in who stays in my house now?”
Rachel grew immediately quiet. She knew that when the wolf came out of her father, she had to tread carefully. But Clark clamped his mouth shut. Although he enjoyed his time to himself, the truth was, he had missed his daughter fiercely. He was a loyal, protective father, even if he was considered the biggest hardass of them all by the rest of the pack. And if his daughter wanted to bring a friend home from school, then goddamn it, she would bring her friend home. At least he’d get to see her before she graduated.
“Are you coming or should I call a cab?” Rachel finally squeaked. Clark sighed.
“I’ll be there, but you might have to wait about five minutes. I’m kind of in the middle of something.”
“Great!” Rachel said brightly. She hung up before Clark could say anything else, probably because she was afraid he would change his mind.
“Your daughter?” Alexander asked, disapproval dripping in his voice. His pale, gaunt face seemed capable of no emotion but disdain. Clark had been tempted to deck him in it quite a few times (just since their meeting that morning, he’d been tempted to strike him hundreds of times if you really wanted to be thorough), but it didn’t seem worth the hassle he’d have with the counsel. Someone needed to be able to deal civilly with these assholes. It was for the good of the pack.
“My daughter,” Clark confirmed, fixing a stern look on him. Alexander scoffed, but he said nothing else. “I have to go pick her up from the train station. But don’t think this is over.”
Clark grabbed his brown leather jacket off the backrest of his chair and stormed out of the office. Everything had been going wrong ever since the pack had welcomed in the newcomers from out of town. Ancient bloodlines of shifters had coexisted peacefully in Stonebrooke for decades until now. But somehow, the second those good for nothing bastards from out of town had naively been allowed into the community by the counsel, they had managed to get their filthy hands all over everything that made the town great. They were making the place inhospitable.
Clark climbed into his truck and turned the engine over, allowing it to sputter as it tended to do until it finally ignited. They thought they could bully him out of his property? Out of his job? Somebody was going to get it if he didn’t watch himself, and he had a strong feeling it would be worth the punishment.
He fumed darkly as he sped through the town roads, not giving a second thought to the speed limits. Nobody obeyed them much anyway; his pack usually stuck to motorcycles and had excellent command of their vehicles. But since he had been tuning up his bike when Alexander had given him the call about his deed, all the pent-up rage went to his head and he had immediately hopped in the truck to take care of things instead of taking his bike off the stand. Good thing too, because apparently, Rachel had brought home a friend. Three couldn’t fit very comfortably on a motorcycle.
Clark growled quietly to himself as he pulled into the train station, a bad habit he had gotten into since the newcomers had come in and shat all over the town like the cockroaches that they were.
“Get the hell away from me!”
Clark’s stomach dropped when he heard his daughter’s voice shouting from deep within the parking lot of the train station.
“Rachel,” he said to himself. He sped through the parking lot, not bothering to heed for the slow people walking idly past. They dodged out of the way and Clark whipped the truck around just in time to see a group of three men standing between him and his daughter.
“Get the fuck out of here before I tear you shitwads apart,” Clark barked.
The men turned to face him, surprised by the intervention. Rachel grabbed her friend’s hand and tugged her around the group of men. Clark’s eyes followed the girl, presumably Carmen, as he got his first good look at her. Although they were clearly being harassed, Carmen’s face was composed, her full, perfect lips revealing nothing of the way she was feeling. She had long, blonde hair that fell lightly over her shoulders as Rachel pulled her along, and suddenly, his eyes were met by the most shocking green he had ever seen.
He was caught off guard by Carmen’s gaze, and was surprised when his thoughts were broken by the voice of one of the pathetic sacks of shit that had been harassing his daughter.
“What are you going to do about it, old man?”
“Old?” Clark asked, raising his eyebrow.
“Uh oh,” Rachel said, tugging Carmen behind her father.
Clark was a lot of things. Rugged, for example. He also happened to be strong, experienced, and wise. But old was not among the adjectives he would choose to describe himself with. In fact, he had been told, time and again, by more women than he was proud to admit to, that he looked a little too good for a man heading into his late forties.
A yelp of pain rang out into the air. Clark had barely registered the beginning of the fight. It started with “old” and ended with three punk ass kids writhing on the ground.
“Mind your fuckin’ manners next time!” Clark barked at them. “That’s my daughter! These are women!”
Clark glanced behind him, and his heart jolted when Carmen’s beautiful face spread into an easy smile. Women? What the hell was he talking about? These were kids. Women were in their thirties and upward. Carmen couldn’t be more than twenty. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to teach a couple of worthless assholes a thing or two.
“If I catch you disrespecting anybody else’s daughters, you’re mine. You got that?” Clark said, starting toward them menacingly.
They flinched, burying their faces into the ground and nodding.
“Come on, girls,” Clark said, shaking his head.
“Daddy!” Rachel exclaimed, running toward Clark with her arms out.
“Hi, honey,” Clark said with a sigh.
“Daddy, this is Carmen. Carmen, this is daddy.”
“Hi, daddy,” Carmen said, taking her hand into his and shaking it with a playful, sexy smile on her face. Fire rushed to Clark’s loins. God help him.
“Do you have any luggage?” he asked, clearing his throat and tearing his gaze away from the dimple on Carmen’s left cheek. Shaken, he turned his attention somewhere safe, back to Rachel. What the hell was wrong with him?
“Not much,” Rachel said brightly. “The rest is over here.”
‘Not much’ turned out to be a hell of a lot, and Clark followed his daughter, already exhausted by the pressure of having women in the house again. It was going to be a long summer.
2.
Carmen let out the breath she was holding once they finally reached Rachel’s house. The ride home in the tiny cab of the truck had put her on edge. Rachel had chattered endlessly as her father drove silently down the road, and it had taken everything she had for Carmen to keep her eyes to herself.
She hadn’t been expecting Rachel’s father to be so attractive. The way Rachel spoke about him, she’d been under the impression he was just a typical nerdy dad with a lame sense of humor. But that’s not the impression that Carmen got at all. In fact, he was no-nonsense, completely serious, and fiercely protective of his child.
Carmen pitied the man that went too far with Rachel. The way Rachel’s father had handled himself against the three creeps that had been trying to harass them at the train station had really impressed her. What else was Mr. Thomas capable of?
“Let me give you the tour of the house!” Rachel exclaimed, rushing to the door.
“All right,” Carmen said, following her. It was a lot nicer than the other houses she had seen as they drove through the neighborhood. Rachel’s father clearly kept everything well-maintained, and she
paused, watching as Rachel’s dad left the truck and crossed the lawn, settling in front of the spot where he had a beautiful, glittering motorcycle sitting propped up on a couple of cement bricks. Carmen couldn’t even begin to imagine what he would look like on that motorcycle, and the thought made her cheeks grow hot. But what did it matter what he looked like on it? He was Rachel’s dad for crying out loud.
“Nice bike, right?” Rachel said, interrupting her thoughts. “Sometimes, I think he loves it more than he loves me.”
“That’s not true, honey,” Clark called in a dull voice, without looking up from his work. Rachel grinned.
“Whatever you say, eavesdropper,” she called.
Clark didn’t acknowledge them, and Rachel led Carmen into the house.
“This is the living room and kitchen,” Rachel said. “Upstairs is my bedroom and my dad’s room. There’s a guest room but if you ever get lonely you’re welcome to my room. We can share. It doesn’t matter to me.”
“Thanks,” Carmen said. It had been kind of Rachel to invite her to stay with them for the summer. Things hadn’t been great at home, the same old issues with her dad, and fortunately her friend had known just how hard it would be for Carmen to stay composed if she were forced out of the dorms for the summer.
But if Carmen had known a man like Rachel’s dad was going to be there, she might have had some second thoughts. He seemed dangerous, somehow. Almost as if she would have to watch herself every second. But was it because she was scared of him or scared of herself?
Rachel disappeared into her bedroom and then re-emerged with a handful of clothes.
“I’m going to shower,” she said, walking down the hallway and opening a closet door pointedly. “This is where the towels are when you need them. The guest room has its own bathroom attached, though, so there might be stuff in there you can use.”
“Thanks, Rachel,” Carmen said, holding her friend’s gaze. “For everything.”
Rachel grinned brightly.
“Don’t mention it. It’s always nice to have someone else around when I’m at home. My dad is always on the go. It’s nice to have company once in a while.”
Carmen nodded and Rachel disappeared down the hall. A few moments later, the comforting sound of the shower running filled the upstairs and Carmen got settled into her new room.
It was fairly large, and she was surprised to find that on the night stand, there was a picture of Rachel and her mother. Rachel never spoke much about her mother. She had mentioned that she had died when she was very young, and that her father hadn’t been the same since then.
Carmen lifted the frame and studied the picture closely. The resemblance between Rachel and her mother was striking. She had none of her father’s darkness about her except his dark, nearly black hair. Well, Carmen assumed that his had all been black once. Now his thick black hair was flecked with silver strands, lightly salt and peppered. The color seemed to suit his face. Carmen found herself wondering if he had been the one who had taken the picture. How handsome he must have been then.
“Ugh, get a grip,” she grumbled to herself. It was as if she was a little kid with a crush or something. But that wasn’t even close to appropriate. Even if he wasn’t old enough to be her own father, he was also her best friend’s dad. There were so many things she could find wrong with it. Besides, she was a virgin. There was no point in having these silly little crushes. She was saving herself for the right man. There was no point in working herself up over nothing.
But it was just a little harmless interest, right? There was no way anything would ever actually develop between them. She was just being uptight, probably because the ride to Stonybrooke had been incredibly stressful. Her mother had been texting her the whole way, complaining about what an asshole her father was being. It had been a lot to handle, and she’d done her best not to think about how awful life was when her father was drinking again. It was hard though, especially when her mother was caught up right in the middle of it. She’d feel a lot better once she finally freshened up.
And so, pushing thoughts of Rebecca’s father out of her mind, Carmen headed to shower and change. They had planned to surprise their host by serving dinner. But that was before she had met him. Something told her it would take a lot more than a well-intentioned meal to make the smile reach that man’s eyes. Maybe it would be better not to even try at all.
3.
Clark mounted his bike, closing his eyes as he revved the engine. A sudden and powerful vibration ripped through the machine between his legs and he grinned. There was nothing better than listening to his baby purr.
Except…
He furrowed his brow and turned the engine off abruptly, cursing himself for the image of Carmen’s sweet smile. It was seared into his head now.
“Dad! Come eat something, you old fart!”
Clark scowled. Leave it to Rachel to remind him that he was less than the spring chicken he used to be. But that wasn’t the issue. The women claimed he was the rare type who simply got better with age. The issue was that the woman who was plaguing his thoughts wasn’t a woman at all. She was just a kid. No older than his daughter. There was no way he could let himself stoop that low.
“Wow,” Clark said with a low whistle once he came inside. “I haven’t seen the table set since before you left for school.”
Rachel beamed, and Clark’s heart constricted. She looked just like her mother when she did that. Abby had been a radiant woman. One of a kind. Nobody else had ever been able to fill the hole in his heart left by her.
“Sit down and eat,” Rachel said. “Carmen and I will serve you.”
Clark sat rigidly, instantly uncomfortable by the thought of Carmen serving him. It was hard for him to keep it together with that girl around. But maybe it was just because it had been a while since he’d fucked around with a woman. They had all gotten pretty boring and predictable. Besides that, he had been far too consumed with the drama going on in the clan. There were rumors that the leader of the clan, King Lobos, had been shaken by one of the outsiders recently. It made sense considering how awful things were getting around there. He was going to have to be careful.
“Hope you like it,” Carmen’s gentle voice said, breaking into Clark’s thoughts. She bent over in front of him to set down his plate, and he caught a whiff of her scent. She smelled unbelievable; innocent, but with a twinge of something else. Could it be…?
“Thank you,” Clark said gruffly, grabbing the plate from her and sliding it toward himself. No. He wouldn’t even allow himself to entertain the thought that Carmen might be interested in him as well. That would take his mind down dark roads that were better left untraveled.
Carmen’s face fell, almost imperceptibly, and she returned to the kitchen. A few moments later, Carmen and Rachel were seated across from each other at the table, and all of them began to eat. Carmen stayed silent and stared down at her plate, refusing to look up even when Rachel was speaking.
Clark sulked and poked at his food. He hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings or anything. But wasn’t it just better if they didn’t speak to each other at all? At least until he figured out how to get a handle on whatever it was that he was feeling toward her. It couldn’t be healthy.
Clark sighed inwardly and glanced up at Rachel. He couldn’t bear the pointed silence any longer.
“So how’s school been?” he asked. The most generic dad thing he could think to say. He knew it was bland, but he was grasping at straws here.
“Good,” Rachel said cheerfully.
“Good,” Clark said.
Well that didn’t give him a whole hell of a lot to go on.
“Has Missy been living here again?” Rachel asked suddenly. Carmen’s eyes suddenly locked on him in interest.
Clark reddened.
“No, honey. Why?”
“I just thought I smelled her a little while ago. It was weird…”
“No,” Clark said, his mind racing with possibilities. That woman had
been a horribly needy little thing. She seemed to want him constantly. In fact, her scent while she was in his house was one of pure lust. He never should have brought her over. In fact, he hadn’t seen her in almost six months. Not since she got that new boyfriend. Why would Rachel think he smelled her?
“Huh,” Rachel said, shrugging dismissively. She looked down at her plate and resumed eating. But Clark could feel Carmen’s eyes on him from across the table. He could only guess what question might be burning on her mind. Who was Missy?
Clark groaned out loud and stood up, putting his hand on his head. Why was he letting himself see things that weren’t there? Maybe he really did need to get laid. But he couldn’t do it here, not with the girls at the house.
“Thanks, girls,” he said, carrying his half-eaten plate to the kitchen. “It was delicious.”
“Good!” Rachel replied.
“Thank you,” Carmen said quietly.
Her voice was just as hypnotic as the rest of her body. Clark had to stop himself from growling out loud as he stuck his unfinished food in the fridge. He couldn’t keep living like this. It was time to make a phone call.
4.
“What was that about?” Carmen asked as she and Rachel finished up the dinner dishes.
“What was what?” Rachel replied, drying off a plate obliviously.
“With your dad. He didn’t even finish eating.”
“Oh, he’s like that. He rushes off to do things. He’s kind of a big deal around here. Really busy.”
“I see,” Carmen said, thinking carefully about how to ask her next question. “Is Missy somebody he works with?”
Rachel snorted.
“No, she’s somebody he bones. A real pain in the ass too. She wants to be my mom so badly. But my dad would never date her, let alone marry her. I didn’t think he’s seen her in months, actually, but I thought I smelled...maybe she was over here secretly and he was too embarrassed to talk about it in front of you.”