She felt like heaven in his arms. It was a perfect moment despite the proceeding ugliness. He nuzzled her hair, smelling the true Lucy beneath the chemicals and soaps.
“This is nice.” The arm she had settled on his waist tightened. “I’m not sure how I’m going to get the will to get out of this bed with you in it.”
“I feel the same way,” he admitted, any thought of getting out of bed or leaving her warm body the worst he could imagine. “Go ahead and sleep, honey. I know you’re tired. I’ll stay and hold you.”
She sighed. “If anyone can keep the nightmares away, it’s a big, not-so-bad wolf. Thanks for bringing me here and caring so much, Scott.”
He kissed her hair again, unable to stop himself or even be remotely detached. Once wolves found their mates, things changed inside them. When they fell in love with those mates, like he already had with Lucy, their worlds were completely different. Everything about her mattered to him. He’d learn to knit and learn to enjoy and appreciate it because she liked it. He’d eat her attempts at meals without complaint and keep on cooking duties with pleasure because it made her happy.
Unlike with Tiffany, though, he didn’t feel bitter because of the change. The relationship with his first mate had often felt one-sided. He’d dealt with it and would have been moderately happy had she not turned violent. With Lucy, though, ‘moderate’ would never describe his happiness. He knew she would shine all of his love right back to him and make the same shifts in her life to make him happy. Mates in love couldn’t do anything less.
“You are always, always welcome here, Lucy. If I had my way, you’d never be farther away from me than my arms could reach.”
“That’s so intense,” she muttered, snuggling her nose to his chest. “I really like it.”
Chapter 11
Scott woke up being kissed. Soft lips glided up his neck to his jaw in innocent bites of affection. Lucy had fantastic lips, ones he’d dreamed about kissing many times since they’d met, but he hadn’t indulged. He’d been sure the time would come and he’d never been happier to be right. She hadn’t even neared his lips, yet each press felt nicer than the last. If not for the three pups laying at their feet—probably escaping Lucy’s notice—his whole body would be aflame. As it was, he held very tight to his control to stay appropriate.
Her little kiss changed to a tiny lick and he was ready to boot the kids out of the room.
“You taste good.”
“Oh damn,” he muttered, finally pulling her face to face. The teasing was fine, it was wonderful and welcome, but if they were going to have to stop soon—and they would—he was going to satisfy at least a piece of his desires.
She shouldn’t taste so good, he thought as his tongue plunged into her mouth. After a full night sleeping, she shouldn’t taste like fresh sunshine and flowers, but she did. Every kiss and lick, every innocent touch to his waist by her hands cemented what he knew. She was his mate and they were going to spend the rest of their lives making each other very, very happy.
“Mmm, Scott,” she murmered against his lips and then froze.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, kissing the edges of her lips.
“Are the kids in bed?” she asked in the barest of whispers.
He smiled, the horror and embarrassment in her voice absolutely adorable. “They started trickling in about three AM.”
She pushed him away, but he only let her go about an inch. “You shouldn’t have been letting me kiss you,” she hissed.
“It’s sweet.”
Scott jumped at Jessie’s observation and, though he’d assumed they were all sleeping, when he looked down, he realized he was very wrong. Three little faces propped up on their fists gazed at them with happy, sleepy expressions.
“Hey, guys.”
“Hi, Daddy.”
“Um.” Lucy, completely dressed, pulled the blanket higher, covering herself to the neck. “Did you guys need something?”
“Nope,” Greg said. “We came to check on you and then got sleepy. Daddy doesn’t mind if we crash at the foot of the bed sometimes.”
“Yeah,” Jessie said. “Then you kissed Daddy and it was really nice. He needs kisses.”
Daddy needed to get a lock for his door, Scott thought, but smiled at his pups anyway.
“We can make breakfast,” Ross offered. “Do you like cereal, Lucy? Or do you need water or something?”
Pride filled Scott. Werewolf males weren’t always known for being nurturers, but his boys already showed a level of compassion it had taken years of trial and error for him to find.
“A glass of water sounds really good, Ross. Thanks.”
Both boys jumped to their feet and scrambled out of the room, shoving over who was going to actually bring Lucy the water. Jessie left them to their silliness and crawled up between him and Lucy. She’d never done that with her mother because the shewolf had forbidden it. Lucy just readjusted.
“I like you here, Lucy. I wish you hadn’t gotten hurt. You can stay even when you feel better. Daddy won’t mind.”
Lucy laughed, real humor and not the awkward kind that could have presented at being called out by a small child about being in bed with their father.
“Isn’t that a wonderful invitation,” she said. “But you know how it is with grownups, Jessie, it takes a lot of time to make big family decisions. We’re definitely good friends, like I’m friends with you and your brothers too.”
Jessie frowned and Scott felt a moment of panic. Whatever his daughter was about to say might not be what Lucy needed to hear at the moment.
“Jessie—”
“You’re Daddy’s mate,” Jessie said, ignoring him. “You two smell like mates and he smells like you more all the time and you smell like him too.”
Jessie took a big breath near Lucy’s neck, the same place where he’d spent the night nuzzling, indeed transferring his scent to her and taking hers on himself as well. It was the natural next step in the courting process between werewolves, but he’d left out a few details when he’d explained about mating. He wasn’t sure how she’d react when she realized he’d been branding her against other werewolves and in turn doing the same to himself to ward off interested females.
“Oh.” Over Jessie’s head, she looked at him with wide eyes. “Is that so? Well, I suppose it’s because we’ve spent so much time together lately. Things like mating and marriage and love take time and respect, not just smells.”
“That’s not what my grandma said. She said—”
“Jessie, go help your brothers with the cereal.”
“But—”
“Baby, please go help your brothers. Lucy and I are going to get dressed and we’ll be out in a few minutes.”
Jessie nodded and scrambled out of the room, even closing the door behind her. Scott got up and dug in his dresser for a pair of sweats for Lucy to wear. He wanted her comfortable. Maybe she’d want a shower and—
“So, I think we need to talk about mates again because it sounds like I’m missing a few details.”
Why the hell had he thought he could avoid the question? He pulled out sweatpants and a sweatshirt. The morning was cool and he hoped by the time it warmed up, they could run to her house and get her some fresh clothes. He turned to her and found her waiting.
“Mates, right. What Jessie was saying is only one piece. The other things I said are true. It is a voluntary commitment. It’s similar to marriage, but better because where marriage can be looked at as legal by some people, or even religious by some, to us, mating changes us down to our blood. At least it does if the mating is right.”
“Right, and the smell thing?” She sat up and finger-combed her hair.
“The smell thing is how we recognize our mates. It’s not a once-in-a-lifetime kind of thing. We can run into multiple females who smell ‘right’, I guess you could say. Other things, like compatibility, aren’t ignored because they smell good.”
“What do I smell like?”
He ha
dn’t expected her question, but it was better than what she could have asked. He grinned and walked closer, taking a long, slow sniff of her neck. She giggled and swatted at him, The giggles broke the tension and he finished abolishing the stiffness with a long lick to her cheek.
“You, my dear human, smell like sunshine and fresh cotton. And sweet, I can’t get over how completely delicious you smell. Even when you’re mad or upset, it’s like you’re coated in patience and sugar—those things aren’t the norm for werewolves. Hell, it’s not very often you find that kind of combination in any species, but you’ve got it.”
“And now you smell like that too?” she asked.
“Well, maybe a little,” he admitted. “You’re right about the time part of it. The more time we spend together, logically, the more our scents will mingle. With mated couples it’s different. The scent goes deeper, it intermingles and eventually becomes one until you can recognize a mated couple even though they are thousands of miles away from each other, just by their shared scent.”
She looked thoughtful a moment and he was relieved the revelation hadn’t angered her. He didn’t want her stressing about the mating stuff. Her being in the dark about the whole thing was probably best. Without other werewolves around, it wasn’t like the fact smacked her in the face everyday anyway.
“So are we mated, Scott? Did you do something I didn’t know about to make us mated?”
Shit. There was no answering without either telling a truth she might not be ready for or without bald-faced lying. Not that he had anything against lying when it fit the situation, but lying to Lucy screamed ‘horrible idea’ on all fronts.
“Well—”
She pushed to her feet, too short to be face-to-face with him, but she certainly was in his space. “Oh my gosh. You tell me right now we’re not mated or whatever you silly werewolves do.”
“Well—”
“Don’t you dare ‘well’ me again. Give me an answer, Scott.”
She was so hot when she was ticked off. “All right. I’ll explain. If another werewolf came to town and passed by you, he might assume you were mated. You do have the scent of a werewolf mate. Just like if a female came to town and got near me, she might assume I was mated by my scent.”
“Assume?” she asked, eyes narrow.
“Right. Like if you wore a ring on your left hand, people would assume you were married, but that doesn’t necessarily make it true.” He tucked a piece of her hair away from her face, careful to keep his hand gentle because he could smell the edge of pain she still carried.
“Honestly, Lucy? If I had my way, you would already be my mate. Werewolves know when things are right. With Tiffany, things were right for many years, but we changed when she started having mental problems. Those are so rare in werewolves that none of us realized what was wrong until it was too late. The two of us dated a week before deciding to formalize our mating. I know you’re human and you’ve got different expectations and experiences. I’m very willing to take my time. But, if you decided to be my mate right this minute, we’d be really happy together.”
“You just know?” she asked, her eyes once again narrow in suspicion, but his answer was as easy as pie.
“I just know.”
“It wouldn’t matter that I spend a huge chunk of my time working and can’t cook to save my life? Or that I haven’t had sex in over four years and haven’t put any thought into having a relationship in those years?”
He shrugged. “What do you want me to say, Lucy? That I’d put conditions and boundaries on how I’d love you? I’m sorry if others did, but in my world, love is different. You take the good with the bad, you embrace it all and if you always burn the bacon, I don’t care because I’m perfectly capable of making enough to share with you. It doesn’t bother me that you haven’t been with a man in a while, just like it doesn’t bother me that you were married—okay, that bothers me a little. I wish I could be coming to you without a past. I wish you were coming to me that way too, but I’ll take it all if you’ll let me.”
She looked unconvinced. He hoped she was starting to at least get a picture of what mating and family meant to him. Her grandmother sounded like an amazing woman and it sounded like she’d done a lot of good in her years. Unfortunately, her upbringing had left Lucy with a few family scars. She didn’t get terribly close, she’d give, yet never expected reciprocation. In her marriage, she’d probably been able to keep a measure of distance, especially if her husband had been away. Those were things she’d learn to change with him.
“And I’d take you on just the way you are? With twins on the edge of puberty and an inquisitive little girl? Your long hours, your whole wolf thing?”
“And don’t forget after I work a double, my feet smell horrible,” he added, putting a cheerful note at the end. “I’ll hit the showers with my shoes on so it doesn’t bother you. Just like you see things as flaws on you, I’m not perfect. I’ll never pretend to be, but I know having you love me will make me better.”
Her breath caught a little at the confession and he wasn’t sure but he thought she might have said ‘love’. He forgot sometimes how human she was and that she couldn’t smell and see emotion on him like shewolves could. He’d learned with the kids how much words mattered, since the little ones needed to be taught what love and affection—the good kinds—looked like. He’d foolishly set that wisdom aside with Lucy.
“Love is important,” he said quietly, crouching slightly so he was eye to eye with her, looking as deeply into her soul as he could. “And I know you might think it’s too soon, but I’ll let you in on a secret. Even if your mind is still deciding, the rest of you already shows you love me. The way you look at me, the way you respond and turn into me when we’re together, those things already give you away. I’ve been trying to show you how much I care in my ways. When you’re ready for the words, I’ve got them, Lucy. I’m trying to respect your human nature and not overwhelm you.”
He thought he was fast, but Lucy surprised him, launching into his arms with no warning. She didn’t kiss him, just held him tight, but it was enough. If she’d been pissed at the announcement, she would have walked away. Instead, she was trying to burrow herself under his skin and if it were within his power, he’d have had a special pocket made for her. She was little—he could spend the rest of his life carrying her without complaint.
“I’m not ready to be a mate or whatever, but I guess I don’t mind that I smell like you.”
He bit back a chuckle. The admission would be absurd to anyone else. To him it was wonderful. “That works for me.”
Chapter 12
She had to stay busy. Her apartment was impossibly clean and now she was tackling Scott’s place while he and the kids were out. Lucy set aside her scrub brush and sat on her butt on the already swept and mopped floor. Cleaning wasn’t something she usually enjoyed. In fact, she hired someone else to do it for her every chance she got, but with the shop a complete mess and nothing she could do about it, the urge to clean other things had bombarded her.
Scott had told her not to go overboard—unfortunately ‘overboard’ had long passed. She figured when she’d scrubbed and disinfected the ceiling fans she’d lost it. The floor was another testimony of her impulse. The scrub brush was within reach but she had to stop before she wore holes in Scott’s linoleum.
Inactivity was killing her. She rested her head against her arms. Her apartment had been shockingly short of yarn and knitting projects, most of her best tools and supplies lost in the shop, so she’d gone the day before to a craft store to restock a few of her personal things. The trip had been a nightmare and a half. The yarns hadn’t been right, the tools compared to hers had been all wrong and she’d ended up running out like a crazy woman after only a few minutes. That’s when the cleaning spree had started.
The locks on the main door turned, followed by the sounds of the door opening. A long, low whistled emerged. “Lucy, where are you? You didn’t do all of this, did you?
”
Busted. She sighed, lifted her hand high and waved it, exhaustion settling in. Scott rounded the kitchen’s short island and stood above her, shaking his head. He’d been at work since before dawn. She liked helping out with the kids, so she’d driven them all to their activities so he could start early and finish early as well.
Maybe if she’d gone and picked up the kids and taken them to the park or something, she could have looked less crazy. As it was, there were three empty bottles of cleansers on the counter and, well, she’d taken down all the curtains to wash so there was no denying the changes.
“It looks good in here,” he said slowly, like he was trying to find a nice way to address her bizarre behavior. “I certainly didn’t expect this kind of cleaning, sweetie. The kids and I would have been happy to help with this big of a project.”
She looked up and couldn’t stop her lips from kicking up in a tiny smile. He looked so darn handsome in the dark slacks and dress shirt he wore for work. There was a certain amount of mob-thug aura about him, but she thought that was probably his strength and confidence showing through the fussy clothes. He filled them out well and she hoped he didn’t mind extra starch in his shirts, because she’d spent an hour ironing earlier in the day.
He squatted before her, putting them face to face like he knew she might not be up to standing for a while. “Having a little breakdown, beautiful?”
She sighed. She’d tried very hard not to indulge her crazy impulses. His former mate had succumbed to mental illness and she didn’t want him to worry. It was stress making her a little off. She wished she’d been stronger.
“I think so,” she admitted. “I tried not to. I think once I’m actually able to get into the shop and have some real dates to plan around, I’ll be better. In the meantime, though, all the waiting was getting to me.”
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