by Yule, S. K.
He closed his eyes. It was still fairly early, but he knew once the deep of night kicked in, he’d be wide awake, and decided to grab a couple hours of much-needed sleep now if possible. As his muscles relaxed, his instincts sharpened and stood on alert, waiting to sound the alarm bells if any type of danger was detected. Any noise, any scent that didn’t belong would set off his inner warning.
He pulled in a deep breath. Speaking of scent. Myka’s called to him with every breath he took. She had the main scent that all potential mates carried, but the mated scent was the one that called to him strongest. The mated scent was detectable only by one’s fated mate. When that second scent had hit him earlier, his knees had nearly buckled under him. Knowing that he was the only one privileged to that second scent made it all that much harder to resist claiming her.
He groaned and stretched his arms over his head, then linked his fingers behind his neck. Staying here with Myka without touching her was going to be one hell of a challenge.
Chapter Three
Myka groaned when she rolled out of bed the next morning. It was barely daylight, the gray overcast of the sky making it nearly impossible for what little sun there was to peek through the window. She was up early most days, but she never had been, wasn’t, and never would be a morning person. She glanced at the clock. It was only five forty-five, even earlier than her usual wake-up time of six thirty to seven o’clock. She’d try to doze for another hour if she thought she’d actually get back to sleep, but she’d tried that trick before. The few times she had fallen back asleep, she’d been more tired when she had to get back up such a short time later.
Patrick didn’t usually stir until around eight or eight thirty. Most mornings that allowed her enough time to get the horses fed and watered and breakfast started before he was up. She dragged herself to the shower after getting her underwear, jeans, and T-shirt, hoping the water would help wake her up. Twenty-five minutes later, she was still struggling with sleepiness and started a pot of coffee before slipping on her socks, boots, and jacket and heading to the barn.
She sighed as the thick, undulating clouds began spitting a misty rain. This was not going to be a fun day to unload hay. A couple minutes later, she stood in front of Buddy’s stall. He, along with the rest of the horses, were munching happily on hay.
“I didn’t give them grain because I wasn’t sure how much.”
She spun around to find Galen standing behind her. Her breath whooshed from her lungs at the sight of him. He wore a pair of black jeans that hung low on his hips, a black belt, and the same hiking boots from yesterday. And while the jeans looked delicious on him, it was his bare torso that caught her eye. Though she wouldn’t call it cold out, she thought it a bit chilly to be going without a shirt. He, on the other hand, didn’t appear fazed in the least by the chilly morning.
She licked her lips. He was beautifully sculpted, and she couldn’t help but admire the wide chest on display. His skin was the perfect shade of gold, and dark brown hair dusted his pecs. As her eyes roamed downward, she took in his etched six-pack, and the fine line of hair that started just under his belly button before it dove under the waist of his jeans. She couldn’t help but be a bit envious of that happy trail.
While only a couple seconds had passed, she felt as if she’d been ogling him for ten minutes, and when she looked back up to into his face, her breath didn’t just whoosh from her lungs this time. It vanished. Hazel eyes stared intently at her. That wasn’t what stole her breath, though. The slight and eerie glow they were giving off is what froze her in place. His sharp jawline was covered in dark stubble, and he looked as lethal as any predator she’d ever seen.
But just as quickly as fear slithered into her veins, it disappeared with as much speed as it had entered. Why was she sure that Galen would never hurt her? Was she being a naive fool? For all she knew, he could be lying to her. He could be running from the law. He could be dangerous. She stared back at him, deep into those alluring pools of silver. He was definitely dangerous. But not to her. Not to Patrick.
Fool. You always were too trusting. Don’t let a pretty face cloud your judgment.
One of his dark brows slowly rose as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.
“Should I not have given them hay?”
His voice shook her from her thoughts.
“I’m sorry. I was a little, um, sidetracked. Forgive me.”
Damn. Sidetracked? She wanted to facepalm herself. While she was sure he’d noticed her drooling over him, she didn’t need to go and point it out. It was one of those moments when she wished the floor would open up and swallow her.
“Thank you for giving them hay.”
“I watered them as well. If you want to show me how much grain they get, I can take care of that too.”
She began to tremble. His nearness, his voice, even his scent had too much of an effect on her for someone she’d met only hours before.
“Grain is over here.”
He followed her to a row of metal trash bins that she stored the grain in. She popped off the first lid and fished out the empty three-pound coffee can, then picked up the black five-gallon bucket sitting on the floor. She tried hard to ignore the closeness of his big body, the heat emanating from him, and the urge to rub against him and purr.
“I usually fill the bucket with grain. You only have to make three trips that way. Make sure to put the lids back on the cans tightly. It helps to keep the rodents away.”
Once she filled the bucket, he reached for it. His hand brushed hers, and the warmth of his touch poured over her and absorbed into her skin like thick molasses.
She showed him how much grain to give each horse, told him their names, and smiled when he gave each one of them a rub on the neck after pouring the grain in the feeder.
“Do you know how to halter and lead a horse?”
“It’s been a long time, but I’ve done it before.” He nodded.
“All of them are easy to handle. The only one you have to watch out for is Dusty. When you let him loose, stand clear because he likes to turn and kick his heels up a bit when freed. He’s not trying to kick you, it’s just his weird way of thanking you for turning him loose.”
“No problem. I’m sure we will all get along fine. I like animals. Do you have a dog?”
“No. I’ve thought about getting one, but so much has happened the past few months, there hasn’t been time.”
“Maybe I can help find you one while I’m here. If you wouldn’t mind, that is. A dog could provide extra protection.”
Galen reached for the shirt hanging on a nail from one of the support posts. The shirt had been hung so high up, Myka hadn’t noticed it until he reached for it.
“It’s perfectly safe out here. I’ve lived here several years.”
“I didn’t mean to imply it wasn’t. I only meant since you and Patrick are alone out here, it might be a good idea.”
She watched him pull the shirt over his head and tug it down. It fit him snugly, and she could see the outline of his ripped form. He was right about the dog. Maybe she’d have to find time to look for one soon.
“How was your first night?”
“Peaceful. I understand why you like it here,” he answered.
“You were comfortable then?”
“Yes.”
“If you ever need anything, let me know.”
She eyed him again, letting her mind wander freely to all kinds of wicked thoughts of what she’d be willing to give him if he asked. Son of a bitch. She had to cut out the teenage high school crush crap. She wasn’t the type of woman to have flings, and she was sure Galen was only passing through. One day, probably sooner than later, she’d wake up and he’d be gone from her life forever. He was not for her. Besides, she didn’t have time for a relationship.
His gaze rested on her, and she swore she could feel her skin warm under his stare.
“I’m going to go get breakfast going. Should be ready in about twenty minutes if
you want to come on over. Tom should be here shortly after. I’m not sure how long the rain will hold off, and unloading hay when it’s dry out is bad enough.”
She turned away from his burning gaze and started for the barn door, feeling the warm sear of his eyes on her the entire walk back to the house.
* * * *
It was shocking what only six months on the run could show you about how much the little things in life meant. A soft pillow to rest your head on each night. The smell of clean clothes. Standing in the open, soaking up the sunlight, with no fear of someone hunting you. Not being suspicious of everyone you came into contact with. The smell of good cooking, and a full stomach.
Breakfast had been delicious. Myka was a wonderful cook. Under different circumstances, Galen could easily see himself settling down right here with her and Patrick. Anger suddenly tore through the rare peace he was experiencing. Maybe it was time to stand up to the ones chasing him. He had no doubt it would end in bloodshed and possibly death. He didn’t want to hurt any of his kind, but he was tired of running. His own species was keeping him from his mate.
His skin tingled as he made his way to the barn. The wolf snarled to break through the surface. No! Not now, my friend. Behave, and tonight we will go for a long run. Just as his wolf reluctantly complied and backed off, a semi with a flatbed trailer stacked high with hay came into view on the rock-and-dirt drive.
Yes. Later he would reward his wolf with a run for the hard work he was about to do. He needed to memorize the layout of the place anyway. If he was going to protect Myka and Patrick while he was here, he had to learn every nook and cranny of the farm and the surrounding forest.
Twenty minutes later, Tom was parked as close to the barn as possible, and Galen was throwing bales off the truck inside to the man. He liked Tom. He had an easy smile and seemed genuine, open, and kind when talking about Myka and Patrick. The older man was sharp as a tack, and Galen hadn’t missed the gleam of suspicion in his eyes upon their meeting. Galen liked that about him as well. It showed him that Tom cared about Myka and the boy.
The sky had decided to open up and let loose just as Galen had thrown the second bale inside. He knew it was inevitable. He’d been able to smell the impending rain grow stronger by the minute. He’d always enjoyed the clean, heavy scent of the air before a storm. By the time he reached for the tenth bale, he was soaked clean through to the skin. He didn’t mind in the least, and his naturally warmer body temperature kept him from getting chilled. Steam rose steadily from his hot skin as the cool rain hit him.
He hoped Myka would stay put inside and let him and Tom take care of the hay. Galen was aware that the old man couldn’t keep pace with him, and Galen would ultimately end up not only throwing most of the hay off the trailer, but stacking it in the barn too. He didn’t mind. The work felt good on his muscles. He’d always enjoyed physical labor. Unfortunately, ten minutes later, Myka was up on the trailer beside him.
He grimaced trying to figure out how to coax her inside to help Tom without stirring her sense of responsibility to the level of indignation. He was surprised when she picked up a bale and tossed it neatly into the barn nearly as far as he was tossing the bales himself. He admired her sheer determination and strength, but it was inevitable that she’d tire quickly. Especially in the rain.
“Why don’t you help Tom?” Galen glanced inside the barn, where Patrick was now struggling to help.
“I can do my part.” Her brows drew down.
“I have no doubt. You handle those bales well considering they are as big as you are. I simply thought there was no need for us both to be soaked, and I think Tom and Patrick could use the help more than I.”
He glanced at the two before chucking five bales off into the barn within a matter of seconds, with little effort, as if to prove his point.
“Holy cow!” Patrick giggled. “Are you like a superhero or something?”
“Something like that.” Galen chuckled.
He raised a brow at Myka, who was now staring at him in what he considered awe. It made his ego swell a bit to see his mate looking at him in such a way.
“It’s not right for three of us to be down there and only you out here,” Myka said as if determined not to give in easily.
He tossed another five bales into the barn, and a pile began to form as Tom and Patrick struggled to keep up and get them stacked.
He looked back at her and again raised a brow in question.
Finally, she lifted her hands in surrender. “Okay. Okay. You’ve proven your point.” She climbed down off the trailer and went inside to help Patrick and Tom.
Two hours later, the hay was stacked neatly inside the barn. Tom, Patrick, and Myka were plopped on a couple bales sipping on the water Myka had gone to the house for earlier.
“You don’t look fazed in the least by all of the work we just did, Galen,” Tom said before taking a swig of his water.
“I like to keep in shape,” he answered.
“Yeah, but six hundred bales, and you look as if you just took a casual stroll around the barn,” Tom grunted. “I miss the days of being young.”
“It usually takes us most of the day to get the hay put up,” Myka said.
Galen thought she looked beautiful with her dark hair mussed and exertion pinkening her golden skin. She’d probably look about the same after he made love to her. He closed his eyes for a moment to shake the image from his mind. The mere thought of touching her was enough to make his cock come alive and the wolf ready to leap.
He cleared his throat.”Anything else on the agenda for today?”
“The rest of the garden needs harvested, but it can wait until tomorrow, after the rain stops. The day after is Patrick’s play day in town. I’ll take the extra produce with me and drop it off at the grocer. Mr. Lee only buys local produce for his store.”
“That’s because it’s the best.” Tom winked at Myka before draining the rest of the water from his bottle.
“I noticed some areas on the inside of the barn that could use some repair. I might work on that this afternoon,” Galen said.
“Myka, thank you again for buying your hay from me, but I’m going to head home. This old man is tired. And thank you, Galen, for making this much easier than usual on all of us.”
Galen nodded and watched as Myka gave Tom a quick hug before he ruffled Patrick’s hair and made his way out of the barn. Within moments, the sound of the diesel engine roaring to life could be heard, but started to fade as Tom drove away slowly.
“You feeling okay, Patrick?” Myka bent down in front of him.
“Yeah. Just tired.”
“Why don’t you go in and take a hot shower or bath and get some dry clothes on? You can spend the rest of the afternoon doing whatever you like. Thank you for helping. We couldn’t have done it without you.”
She kissed him on the forehead.
“No, we couldn’t have. You were a big help,” Galen agreed.
Patrick smiled up at him as if he’d just had the best compliment of his life. “Thanks, Galen. You too, Myka.” He hugged her.
She laughed when he sprinted out into the rain for the house.
She stood and faced Galen. Her brows drew down, probably in response to his frown. “Something wrong?”
“I was just wondering why Patrick called you Myka instead of Mom.”
“Oh.” It was her turn to frown now.
“I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”
“No. No. It’s a completely legit question. Patrick is not my son. He’s my nephew.”
While he hadn’t cared when he thought Patrick was hers, an extreme wave of relief washed over him. Patrick was a wonderful boy, and he felt no different about him knowing that he wasn’t Myka’s son, but he couldn’t deny his happiness at Myka not having a child with another man.
“He’s your nephew?”
She sighed, shook her head, and plopped back on a hay bale.
“I didn’t mean to pry.” He sat do
wn beside her.
“It’s okay. It’s sort of a touchy subject still. My brother was killed in a freak accident six months ago at work. I suddenly found myself a mother, and Patrick suddenly found himself fatherless. It wasn’t easy for either one of us, but I never wanted anything else than to give him the home and love he deserves from the start. It’s been tough. I don’t think I’m cut out for mom material.”
“Hey,” he said softly before placing an arm around her back. “You are great with Patrick, and I can tell he loves you. I thought you were his mother from the start.”
“Thank you.” She smiled up at him.
“If you don’t want to answer, that is fine, but what happened to his mother?”
“She abandoned him when he was barely a year old. My brother was devastated, and Patrick had to grow up without a mother. Although Travis was a great dad. He adored Patrick, gave him everything he could. It was tough for him, though.”
“I can only imagine. I don’t know how anyone could abandon a child.”
“It breaks my heart. Travis would never talk about it with Patrick. I know at some point in time he will start asking about his mother. I don’t know what to tell him.”
“You will figure it out. You are a much better mother than you give yourself credit for.”
She looked up at him again. “Flatterer.”
“I only call it how I see it. You are pretty amazing.”
“Oh.”
The way her lips curved in that cute little o made need rush his veins. He wanted to devour her, drag her to the hay-strewn floor, rip all of their clothes off, lick every inch of her body, and claim her like his blood sang for him to do.
Do it. Do it. Son of a bitch. He couldn’t. It wasn’t right. After hearing what she’d been struggling with the past six months, he was sure she didn’t need a complication like him. A complication that would most likely bring only heartbreak, and possibly trouble, right to her doorstep.
He sighed and stood.”I’m going to get busy cleaning up in here,” he muttered, hoping she’d go back to the house before he let his needs get the best of him.