by P. Jameson
Annie’s grin widened at the expression on his face. It was so innocent. Like a baby bird seeing the sun rise for the first time. And so out of character for him. Or what she knew of him.
It lasted several precious seconds. Moments in time she would never forget. And it was enough of a connection that she wouldn’t be able to give up on him like she’d planned. Not yet anyway. There was still hope.
Quick as a blink, the moment was over. Blister jerked his hand from her shoulder and tilted his head so his scars were less visible.
Clearing his throat he said, “It’s… morning. I think the storm has passed.”
“Already? I slept the whole night? Here on the…” She sat up. But she wasn’t on the ground anymore. She was on the bench.
Blister stood awkwardly, one hand in the pocket of his jeans.
“I, uh… I didn’t think you’d be comfortable…” He wouldn’t look at her.
“You moved me.”
He nodded, looking like he’d stumbled onto a mound of fire ants. “Don’t worry though, okay. I was careful. And it was very quick. I didn’t… you know… linger or anything. The blanket stayed around you. So.” He shuffled on his feet, looking like he wanted to run.
Annie stood, readjusting the blanket she’d used to cover her pants-less bottom half, and tried to make sense of his words. Why would she be worried that he’d moved her? She knew enough about him and the other dogs to know they wouldn’t take advantage of a sleeping woman. The fact that he’d been concerned about her comfort spoke more to her than anything else. Maybe it meant nothing in the grand scheme of things but right now, it meant the world.
“Thank you, Blister.”
He went still, his brow softening. “You’re welcome.”
She grinned nervously, shoring up her reserves for what lie beyond the door. “Should we see what the twister left us?”
Nodding, he opened the shelter and climbed out. Shoving her feet in her boots, she followed him, purposely not looking around until her feet were firmly on solid ground. Saturated ground. Ground littered with leaves and twigs and occasional branches and… yep, shingles.
Annie took a deep breath and lifted her gaze. The morning sky was still a sick shade of gray leftover from the quarrelsome night. The wind blew hot gusts of air, a reminder of the demon that had twisted its way through their tiny town. Tears pricked her eyes but she didn’t let them fall. Carefully, she stepped around debris, her boots sinking into the mud, and stared, mouth agape at the sight before her.
The house wasn’t a complete loss. In fact, she was pretty darn proud of the thing. It was still standing, when several others around weren’t. But even though it was still there, the roof on the south side had been ripped off. Windows were blown out. A tree had fallen through the back door and wiped out the porch. It… it was a mess.
Annie shook, wrapping her arms around herself.
It was okay. She still had a house. She’d call the insurance company right away, they’d cut her a check and she’d get it fixed. Problem solved.
She’d need to check Red Cap. If the business was gone, she’d have to rebuild fast. Otherwise, she’d eat through her savings in no time.
Blister walked past her, stepping over a mailbox to closer inspect the house. She read the address. It was Mrs. Faulkner’s from two streets over.
Annie squeezed her eyes closed, saying a little prayer that Mrs. Faulkner had made it through the storm safe even if her mailbox didn’t.
A snap caught her attention as Blister jerked on the fallen tree, trying to shove it aside so he could fit through the opening where her door used to be.
“Wait, don’t. It could be dangerous. I don’t want you getting hurt.”
His eyes found hers, his brows dipping low for a moment before he went back to work on the tree. “Don’t worry. I’m just looking. I think maybe the rest of the house is okay. I wanna take a look around.”
“The front door. We can get in through the front.”
She didn’t wait for him to follow. Traipsing through the soggy yard, she avoided looking at the other houses in the neighborhood. She climbed the steps and knelt to retrieve the spare key from underneath the clay flower pot that miraculously hadn’t moved an inch.
She glanced back to find Blister waiting.
“Shh. Don’t tell anyone,” she said.
Standing, she unlocked the door and stepped in.
“Wait,” he barked. “Let me go in first, make sure it’s safe.”
She paused, nodded, and let him squeeze around her.
Annie watched from the doorway as Blister checked the windows in the living room. They all seemed to be intact. He continued through to the kitchen and she lost sight of him. Minutes later he was back.
“It’s okay,” he said. “You can come in.”
She rushed past him to the kitchen to survey the damage. The double window above the sink was gone, but that was an easy enough fix. Everything else looked fine.
She went from room to room checking for damage. The upstairs was leaking from the missing parts of the roof, but otherwise intact. The extra bedroom downstairs and the laundry room were a mess. Limbs stuck every which way through the wall and glass was everywhere.
The good news was she could close those parts of the house off, cover the broken window, throw some buckets under the leaks… and still live there. Until she could find someone to come fix the place.
Standing in the living room, she let out a long sigh. As always, it was going to be okay. It was.
“It can be fixed.” Blister’s voice was quiet but sure. Apparently he’d come to the same conclusion she had.
Annie nodded. “Yeah.” Her eyes darted around the room looking for something to do. “I should go check Red Cap.” She’d spotted both their vehicles out front and they weren’t hit.
“Pants,” Blister murmured. “Pants first.”
She pointed a finger at him, nodding. “Yes. Pants. Thank you.”
As she turned to climb the stairs, she heard her name.
“Annie! Oh god, Annie!” Footsteps thundered up the front porch and then Ella appeared in the open doorway. Relief speared her expression before she ran across the living room, pulling Annie into a fierce hug.
Another set of arms came around her, pushing her back against the stairs, and Punk’s rough voice cut through. “We were so fucking worried about you.” She pulled back to look Annie over. “Where are your fucking pants?”
Annie felt the blood rush to her face and looked up to see who else was witness to her undress. Drake and Beast stood by the door, while Blister was between her and them. His back was to her, but it looked like he was blocking most of the scene from the others.
Thank god.
She wasn’t ashamed of her body most days, but no one wanted to be caught in their underwear.
Crouching, she retrieved the fallen blanket and wrapped it around her waist, tying it tighter this time.
“They’re upstairs,” she muttered. “I’m going to get them so I can go check Red Cap.”
Punk nodded. “I’ll go with you. Not to get pants. To check the bar,” she clarified.
Annie rolled her eyes. “I know, silly. How’s the club?”
Drake spoke up. “Club’s fine. Nothing got hit. Well…” His gaze went to Blister. “Unless you count your tent. Surge found it twisted up in a tree.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah.”
Annie’s heart clenched. Blister’s tent was his home. No matter how small or insignificant it seemed to everyone else, she had a feeling it meant more to him. And it was gone.
Racing up the stairs, her mind was working. Where would he stay until he could get a new one? Could he just… grab one from Walmart or was it some specialized outdoor living thing? She slapped her forehead when she realized the solution was simple. He could stay in the big house at DTD. Punk and Beast stayed in the trailer for now so there was an empty room.
She pulled on a bra, a fresh t-shirt, and a
pair of jeans, and grabbed some socks out of the drawer.
But wait…
She paused with her hand on the doorknob. Blister told her he lived in the woods because he liked being alone. In the big house, he’d be right in the middle of all the comings and goings of the club. The big house was their hub. Where they ate meals. Where they watched games and NASCAR. Where they socialized. She’d been around when Punk was staying there and it definitely wasn’t a quiet place. Not with it being Surge’s domain.
Blister wouldn’t be comfortable staying there.
But then, how hard could it be to find a new tent?
Maybe… maybe she could offer him a solution. A mutual solution. He could stay here for a few days. With just her around, the house was always quiet. She could swear not to chatter his ears off, if that would make him feel better. It’d been easy enough to run out of things to say in the shelter. In return, he could help her clean up the storm damage. There was a metric ton of shattered glass to sweep up, among other things. She could use a helping hand.
Plan settled, she went downstairs to talk to him.
“Shit,” Punk muttered, her voice drifting in from the back of the house. “I’m never leaving her alone during a storm again, I swear.”
“We should’ve brought her to the club,” Ella agreed.
Beast’s voice was thoughtful. “It’ll take some work, but it’s definitely fixable. I’m glad she made it to the storm room in time.”
“Hey.” Annie pulled up behind them as they admired her new tree wall accessory. “Like the addition?” She waved her hand in a grand gesture. “I was growing tired of the boring old door.”
Punk gaped at her. “Are you seriously joking right now?”
Annie rolled her eyes. “I have to. It’s either that or cry, and I don’t do that anymore.” She glanced at the others. “Where’s Blister?”
The guys shrugged. Ella raised a suspicious eyebrow. Punk looked around as if he was hiding under the laundry basket or something.
“Looks like he took off,” Drake mumbled, distracted by the hole in the ceiling.
“What do you mean ‘took off?’”
He squinted at the dangling plaster. “It’s what Blister does. When he’s had enough of people, he disappears.”
“He just… left?” Without saying anything to her? Without so much as a “good luck with the disaster”?
All the air left her sails. Of course he did. He had his own troubles to deal with.
But then a grin slipped into place. Maybe when she got this mess straightened out, she’d go check on him. For now, she needed to get to Red Cap.
Chapter Four
Blister brought his own ladder and tools just in case Annie didn’t have what he needed. It was almost noon, and he intended to have the bad part of the roof covered with plastic before she returned.
Something changed in him last night. It was as simple as Annie falling asleep next to him. The trust it took for her to sleep with only him around, it humbled him. He’d stayed awake all night watching her. Not watching over her—though he did that too—but actually seeing her. It was just like he’d assumed. She was so pure, so innocent, giving freely of herself to the benefit of others. She was genuinely kind, and she expected others to be too.
He wanted to meet her expectations.
Fate had taken the kindest soul and given it to him as a mate. To make up for how cruel life had been. And even though he would never claim her, he wouldn’t abandon her. He’d had it all wrong in the beginning. Avoiding her was cruel and selfish. She needed him, and he was going to make sure she was taken care of.
But he wouldn’t be annoying. He nodded to himself, hammering a nail through the plastic sheet and into the roof. He would be sure she had what she needed but he’d do it while making himself scarce.
His phone buzzed and he hooked the hammer in his belt so he could answer it.
“Yeah.”
“It’s Ella. Drake wants to know why there’s a cat on our property. His words, not mine. Looks like a regular old guy to me, but Drake swears he’s a shifter and he’s, uh… not exactly happy.”
Damn, that was fast.
“I called ‘em. They’re here to help.”
“He says they’re here to help,” she called.
He heard an annoyed voice carry through the phone. “See? Told you, asshole.”
And then, “Help with what?” His alpha sounded like he was ready to skin the cat.
Blister sighed. He’d been in such a hurry to get the roof fixed he forgot to talk to Drake.
“They’re here to fix Annie’s house,” he grumbled. “I told them they could stay at the club while they were here.”
“Aw, that’s sweet, Blist—Oh! Excuse you, mister. I was talking.”
“Give me the phone, Ella,” Drake growled.
She sighed into the receiver. “Fine. But you’ll pay for that later.”
There was a rustling and then Drake’s angry voice came down the line. “Tell me you didn’t invite the cats to hang at our club for the week.”
“They’re not here to hang. They’re going to fix Annie’s house. But they need a place to stay.”
A rumble came through, showing Drake’s frustration.
“You know the crew from Ouachita’s the best. Come on. She’s… she’s practically one of us now. We need to help her, and none of us know shit about construction.”
Drake’s answer was much quieter. So small in fact, that Blister had to strain to hear him above the tree removal happening down below.
“Is that what this is, Blister? She yours?”
Blister didn’t answer. He wouldn’t lie to his alpha, but he didn’t want anyone to know who Annie was to him.
Drake chuckled, his whole countenance changing. “I believe your words earlier were, ‘mated or not, if either of you look at her I’ll fucking shred you’. That sound about right?”
Blister felt his face go crimson. He had no right to be throwing out threats like that. He couldn’t let himself get possessive of her. She wasn’t his. Not really. Just because fate intended her for him didn’t mean it was going to happen. It was exactly what the name implied, an intended mate. The intention was there. Whether it happened or not depended solely on the people involved.
“I don’t care who looks at her. It was only a matter of preserving her dignity. Which doesn’t make me her mate. It makes me not an asshole. You wanna jump on the non-asshole train, and let those guys stay at the club or what?”
“Shit. You really put me in a position here, you know? There’s going to be a lot of clean up at the speedway. Waldo says it’s closed until further notice. We need to get in there and make that happen otherwise we’ll be driving down to Kerry County to race.”
“The cats can help. Let them stay.”
Drake let out a sigh that sounded like a chainsaw. “Fine. Fucking fine, okay? Why not? Cats and dogs get along swell. Oh, wait. No. No, they do not.”
The line clicked dead. Blister shoved the phone in this pocket and went back to work on the roof.
By the time he was finished, the guys he’d paid to cut up the fallen tree were gone, and he went to work covering the door opening with plywood. Next, he boarded up the broken windows. He was on the very last one when he heard the soft fall of feminine footsteps approaching.
Damn it. He didn’t work fast enough.
“Blister?” His name on her lips, even with her voice tired and worn, was the stuff that fed his dreams.
“Yeah,” he answered, finishing up his job.
“What… what is this?” Her tone was uneasy. Maybe he hadn’t thought this through.
“I covered the roof and windows so you’d be safe until tomorrow when the crew gets here.” He avoided her gaze at all costs, adding a few extra nails to make it seem like he was too busy to talk.
But she didn’t go away.
“What crew?”
“I called in some builders from the Ouachitas. They do good work. They’
ll fix your place up.”
Silence stretched between them with only his hammer to break it up.
“You…”
Her voice sounded broken, but he didn’t want to look up and find her angry. Or worse, disturbed. He’d overstepped his bounds, no doubt about that. But he hoped she could see that it came from a place of concern and not because he was strange.
Blister chewed his lip, banging home another nail.
“You did all this for me?” Her breathed words sliced through him.
So she wasn’t mad, but she sounded as if it was a foreign concept. Like she couldn’t believe someone would help her.
Blister nodded, still avoiding her gaze. “It’s no big thing.” He shrugged. “A little plastic, a little wood. A phone call or two.”
“It’s a big thing to me.” Her hand landed gently on his forearm and he jumped. “Thank you.”
She touched him.
It was an innocent thing that probably didn’t matter to her, but… no one had touched him since he was a young. Not unless you count fighting. And he didn’t. But this, the sweetest touch from the softest soul… it made his wolf crave her rabidly. The faintest brush of her skin against his, it destroyed him.
Finally the inside matched the outside, but he hardly minded. Let her ruin him. Let her, because who the fuck cared. He’d trade this feeling for anything he’d had up to this point. None of it mattered.
Not even the dreams. His angel’s touch in reality, though innocent, was better than any sexual thing his mind could conjure.
Mine. Mine, Mine, Min—
No.
No.
“You’re welcome,” he whispered, grappling for control of his animal.
She pulled her hand back. “Guess what?”
Blister turned his head to look at her, hoping she couldn’t see the blatant longing in his eyes. And she was smiling, her cheeks going round. The expression was so fucking precious. His heart thundered in his chest hard enough he was afraid she’d hear it.
“I got you something.”
He was too busy staring at her smile for the words to actually register. She clapped her hands together giddy with excitement, her grin growing even larger.
“Come with me. I’ll show you.”