Paisley

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Paisley Page 5

by Celia Kyle


  Paisley slowly turned her head, forehead still pressed to the window, brow furrowed and stared at the man. “What happened?”

  It was his turn to frown. “What do you mean?”

  She straightened and faced him fully. “I mean, what made you create a fortress instead of a home?”

  That scowl deepened. “Nothing. I just want to keep us safe.”

  “But… You guys don’t even go out on the grass? Relax under the shade of a tree or something?”

  Hawkins shook his head. “No, if a tree is too close to the house, it impedes your view and can act as an access point for—”

  Paisley held up her hand to stop him. “What about children? You expect them to stay holed up in the house? Never play in the sun or climb trees or run around screaming their heads off?”

  “I suppose we could build a sunroom. Lay down some Astroturf. We could have bullet-resistant glass windows.” He nodded, obviously not seeing her horrified expression. “Yes, we could do something like that.” Then he grinned. “You talked about children.”

  She lowered her knees and sat Indian style. “Scroll back on all that. You mean to tell me that you don’t want to simply rethink your approach and instead force our kids—”

  “Pup. We should have one. We can easily protect one. Two would split our attention and—”

  “Kids and we’re having more than one. But you want them to never go outside when they’re at home?”

  “I’d prefer ever, but that’s probably too much to ask for.” He shrugged.

  Paisley gaped at him and scooted forward. She ached to grab his hands, hold him and force him to reveal more. There had to be a reason he decided to hide from the world. She’d dealt with this with Rebecca. It was a different situation, of course. Rebecca hid and protected her heart from being squashed by insensitive people. Her scars weren’t pretty and she often remained in her shell because of that.

  But what scared Hawkins so much that he wrapped him and Chance in a blanket of bullets? The men worked for the Ruling Alphas and were in danger daily, but when they walked out the door… They then strode into a prison of their own making.

  She reached toward him, but didn’t allow her palms to connect with his body. No, she let them hover over his forearms. Her magic reached for him, petting his flesh while his did the same to hers. It was the most she could offer while they were still forbidden to touch.

  “Hawkins, what happened?”

  He shrugged. “Nothing, I just want to keep you safe. You and Chance and our pup.”

  “Kids. And something made you this way. Why is it so important to have sensors and guns littering the grass? Why can’t you think about letting children play outside?” Through the flashes of power connecting him, she sensed his emotional pain, a remnant of past agony that’d torn parts of him to bits and pieces. “Tell me. Make me understand.”

  Hawkins huffed. “It’s complicated.”

  Paisley snorted and waved her hand to encompass the suite. “This is complicated. I don’t think there’s anything that’s much more complex.” She tilted her head, hoping he saw her growing affection for him. “So, explain it.”

  He tore his gaze from her and she wasn’t sure he’d tell her. It’d set this thing—this relationship—back even further than his harsh words. The silence stretched, the quiet only broken by the soft sound of their breathing. Her magic continued to stroke him and send her flickers of his emotions.

  Hurt. Agony. Fear… So much fear.

  Of what?

  Finally, he looked back at her and she knew, knew, he wasn’t gonna tell her. It was in his shuttered expression, the way his emotions collapsed and rolled in on themselves until there was nothing. He was a blank wall.

  “I don’t have anything to explain.” He jerked away and quickly rose, leaving her sitting on the seat. “Madden called. I told them you needed to rest so they’re sending dinner. It’ll be here soon.”

  With that, he disappeared, striding toward his room. He shoved the double doors closed with a heavy thud.

  And she watched him go, watched him leave her rather than share a small part of him. She ignored the twinge of her heart.

  “Hawk doesn’t mean to be an asshole.” Chance stepped from his own bedroom into the living area. “He’s just been that way for so long, he has a hard time being anything else.”

  Chance padded toward her, his shorts hanging low on his hips and t-shirt clinging to his chest. The clothes highlighted his body, the rise and fall of his carved muscles. His strength was more than evident, proof of his wolf’s presence. His eyes were the yellow of his beast and the appearance of his animal sent a small sliver of fear through her, but she shoved it down.

  Chance wasn’t Maxim. Hell, even with his grumpy attitude, Hawkins wasn’t Maxim. Part of her recognized that, but the other parts weren’t quite there yet.

  “Why is he that way? Do you guys really live in a… a fortress?” She didn’t have any other word for it.

  He shoved his hands in his pockets, pushing the fabric even lower, exposing more of his flat stomach. The small trail of hair teased her and the heavily carved lines at his hips had her mouth watering. She wanted to lick both deep furrows. Actually, she wanted to lick Chance all over, but she’d happily start there.

  Chance sighed and moved closer, slowly taking the seat Hawkins had vacated. “The short answer is yes.” He huffed. “The long answer is that Hawk refuses to see anyone he cares for get hurt. And even then, he doesn’t let anyone get too close.”

  Paisley shook her head. “You’re his partner. My sisters and cousins filled me in. You two can speak telepathically. How is that not letting anyone close?”

  Chance shook his head. “No, we can’t. We’re partners, but I hardly know him.” Chance stretched his arm toward her and let his fingers hover a centimeter above her skin. “I’m not his first partner, Paisley. He won’t say it and I don’t know the details, but I know losing Micah is what turned him into what he is today. He doesn’t want anyone to get close, but he won’t let them get too far away, either.” His finger floated closer, pad brushing the short, pale strands on her forearm. “I’m hoping you can help heal him. He can’t deny you, sweetheart. Once he takes you as his mate, there’s no hiding. And if he can’t hide from you, I hope he won’t be able to hide from me any longer.”

  “I don’t—” The heavy knock of fists striking wood interrupted Paisley and she swallowed the words lurking on her lips. She may have not said them aloud, but that didn’t keep them from drifting across her mind.

  I don’t know if I can be what you need.

  *

  Hawkins pressed his forehead to the bedroom door, ignoring the ache inside him as he fought for control. Chance mentioned Micah. It’d been at least a good six months since he’d thought of his past partner. Damn, ten years hadn’t lessened the pain much. He and Micah had been a fierce Warden Pair. They’d protected the Ruling Alphas and trained the guards harder than any others. Their wolves were the strongest and fiercest. And then it’d fallen apart.

  He closed his eyes, shoving the memories back, the ones that threatened late at night when he fought for sleep.

  Ones that included Micah’s blood flowing over Hawkins’ hands and his friend’s plea that Hawk find happiness. They hadn’t found their mate while together, but Micah… He lifted his head and let it bang against the door. Micah’s last words were a spell to dissolve their pairing as if it’d never existed. Fucking Micah wanted Hawk to have a chance at joy and cubs. That never would happen to a Warden who’d lost his partner, but alone and unfettered, Hawkins had an opportunity.

  Micah didn’t seem to give a damn what it meant to him. Then again, Micah was dead, so why should he give a fuck.

  Low murmurs filled the living area, Paisley’s bright alto offset by Chance’s joking baritone. Those two belonged together. Two lighter souls. Even after her time with Maxim, Paisley found a way to smile.

  Hawkins should leave. Unbind himself, walk away, an
d never look back. Chance could find another partner that fit him. Someone who would make him and Paisley happy.

  “Yo, Hawk! Dinner’s here. You coming?” Chance called for him and he couldn’t force himself to reach for the knob.

  Instead, he thumped his head against the door again, wishing his life was… different.

  Then Hawk’s wolf howled, releasing the mournful tone, begging Hawkins to let go of his pain and go to Paisley. His magic joined the call, both parts of him screaming that he should grab their mate and hold her close. That he should snare Paisley and Chance and open himself to them both.

  Shaking his head, he pushed them back, shoving them into the small mental cage he’d long ago built. When they were tucked away and no longer able to hurt him, he reached for the doorknob.

  He twisted the metal, listening for the low click before he tugged and let himself into the living room. Paisley and Chance sat on the floor in front of the coffee table, plates of food spread across the surface. Paisley picked at different dishes, adding bits and pieces to her slowly filling plate. Chance did the same—picking and prodding and gradually loading her plate.

  She snapped something at him, he smiled in return, and then they went back to teasing each other.

  Sweet and perfect and both of ’em deserved better than him.

  Then she turned that thousand watt smile on him. Her eyes were bright, shining in the room’s low light, and just then one of the sun’s rays burst through the window. It highlighted her, casting a glow across her hair, picking out the varying shades of brown. From the lightest chocolate to the darkest color that neared red.

  Her hair wasn’t brown, it was a rainbow of hues, and seeing her beauty punched him in the gut.

  Yes, she deserved better than him, but staring at her and sensing her joy… he knew he wouldn’t let her go.

  “Hawk?” Chance’s voice broke through Hawk’s thoughts and he shook his head to clear his mind.

  “Yeah,” he coughed. “I’m coming.”

  Paisley’s gorgeous eyes met his and… he hated the emotions that flitted across her face. Attraction. Desire. Pity. Fucking pity.

  Hawkins stepped toward the coffee table, intent on shoving her away from him. Hell, shoving them both away. He couldn’t get hurt if he didn’t let anyone close. He shot a glare at Chance, but his partner gave him the same patronizing grin he always wore. When he turned it on Paisley, she… tossed it back at him.

  She also nudged a full plate toward him and flicked her gaze to the ground beside her for a moment before focusing on him once again.

  Dammit. Didn’t she know he was pushing her away?

  “I wasn’t sure what you liked so I gave you a bit of everything.” Her voice washed over him, stroking his wolf and petting his magic. The words echoed inside his mind, bouncing and creeping into the cracks in his heart.

  Hawkins’ cock throbbed, filling as he drew in more of her scent, and he cursed his body. His heart. His soul.

  Shit.

  Ignoring Chance’s knowing grin, he stepped closer to her and stared down at the meal she’d prepared for him. Bits of seared salmon and steak covered half the plate while a baked potato and mac and cheese consumed the other. Comfort for his human half and meat for his wolf. And for his magic… her mere presence soothed his magic.

  He lowered himself beside her—still ignoring the jackass Chance—and settled on the plush carpet. She nudged the full plate toward him and he grasped the edge, tugging it closer. She handed over silverware next, followed by a cloth napkin.

  She was taking care of him. He should be pissed that she was seeing after him like a child, but… he liked what she was doing. She was showing she worried about him and it felt so damned good. Annoying, but good.

  “Thanks.”

  The beaming smile he received had him aching to touch her, to pull her close and lay a soft kiss on her lips. Instead, he picked up his fork and stabbed a hunk of steak. He popped it in his mouth and nearly moaned when the fresh flavors burst across his taste buds.

  “God, that’s good,” he mumbled and grabbed another bite. Then another. Then… He realized the other two weren’t talking and he opened his eyes to find them staring at him. “What?”

  Paisley grinned. “Nothing, just wondering if you and that steak wanna get a room.”

  Hawk narrowed his eyes and she just grinned wider.

  “Nah, if anyone is getting a room, it’s the three of us.”

  …the three of us…

  No. Just… no.

  Hawkins shook his head and placed his fork on his plate. “No, you two, maybe. But not…” He glared at the coffee table. “Just you two.”

  Without another word, he pushed to his feet and turned away from the two people who should mean the most to him in the world. Should and yet didn’t.

  Hawkins wondered how long he could lie to himself before it finally became the truth.

  Hawkins took a step toward his bedroom and then changed his mind. Going to his room would merely make him a stationary target. If he kept moving and continued to wind his way through the house, they couldn’t pin him down. He strode to the main door, ignoring the whispered argument that continued behind him. He needed to get away, to take himself out of that mating.

  He finally got to the suite’s door and wrenched it open, stepping through and closing it as quickly as he could. That put him in an expansive, carpeted hallway lined with door after door. He imagined those were more suites available for visitors to the compound. He glanced left and then decided to go right. There had to be an exit nearby. Especially considering their room overlooked the yard. He had no doubt there was more than one couple—or trio—who’d visited and taken a midnight walk.

  The low click of his suite’s lock disengaging told him either Chance or Paisley was in pursuit.

  Shit, no time to dick around. He bolted down the hallway, breaking into a jog as he neared the end of his path. He turned right, directing himself toward the yard. He had to come across it at some point.

  The rapid thud of bare feet on carpet, the heavy steps, told him it was Chance who followed. That had Hawkins increasing his speed, bolting over the floor and he finally found an exit. He shoved the double doors wide and burst onto the grass, his long strides carrying him from the castle. Taking him away from the pain, the heartache, the… the fucking fear that ate at him every day and night.

  He pumped his legs, ignoring the feel of the cool grass on his soles as he ran like a child. Chance wasn’t far behind, his pursuit bringing him closer and closer to Hawkins. His partner’s hot breath bathed the back of his neck and it was just another reminder that he was an old damned wolf.

  “Slow down, asshole.” Chance snarled at him and tugged his shirt, the rend of cloth was immediately followed by a sting on his lower back.

  The jerk ripped his shirt and fucking clawed him.

  Hawkins growled and pushed harder. Why couldn’t the dick just leave him the fuck alone?

  The answer to that question didn’t matter because he felt magic slip past him, then he abruptly collided with a brick wall, the hard, rough surface halting him in his tracks. The collision sent him flying backwards into Chance and they both sprawled on the grass. His partner landed with a grunt as he took Hawkins’ weight and he should have felt badly about landing on the man. He didn’t. It wasn’t the first time Hawkins had slammed into an invisible barrier like that. Chance was such a dick.

  Hawk rolled from atop his partner and flipped into a low crouch, waiting for Chance’s next move. They’d done this more than once, Chance running him to ground. Then they’d fight, drink a beer, and in the morning they’d pretend they hadn’t beat each other bloody.

  The only difference today was they now had the added mix of sexual frustration. They both wanted Paisley but couldn’t have her.

  He craved Paisley even if she deserved so much better than him.

  Chance sat up and draped his forearms over his upraised knees. He slowly met Hawkins’ gaze and
Hawkins didn’t see anger or frustration. No, Chance was just sad. Defeated.

  Like he’d given up.

  Like… Micah.

  “C’mon then.” Hawk rose to his feet, keeping his hands loose at his sides.

  “No,” Chance shook his head. “I give. I cry ‘uncle.’ I’d do anything to get you to stop being an idiot and running.” Chance shoved to his feet. “What’s it gonna take, Hawk? Look at her.” Chance gestured toward the house, his tone accusing. “Look at her.”

  Hawkins followed his friend’s gaze and then wished he hadn’t. His wolf let him see exactly what Chance meant. Paisley sitting in that window seat again, her small palm pressed to the glass, and worry evident in her features.

  “She’s our mate. We only get one and she’s it. Period,” Chance continued to yell, but Hawkins couldn’t tear his gaze from Paisley. Sweet beautiful Paisley. “I get that you lost Micah. I do. But you can’t keep carrying him around. I read the reports, Hawk. I know you two took out a rogue pack, you killed their half-assed inner-circle and went home victorious. Until…”

  Hawkins picked up the story. “Until that ‘Alpha Bitch’ got into our house.”

  “You snapped her neck.”

  “But not before she took out Micah,” Hawkins added.

  “Shit happens. Werewolves aren’t all daisies and sunshine. Build a bridge over that river of blood and pain you’re holding onto and fucking get over it.”

  He snorted. “That easy?”

  Chance adopted a serious expression, one Hawkins had never seen before, and it had him on alert. Something within his partner changed. “No, but it needs to be that easy or the rest of your life is going to be that hard because I’m holding onto her, Hawkins. I’m grabbing what God gave me and never letting her go. That can happen with or without you.”

  “You can’t mate her without me.”

  His partner stared into the distance, gaze unfocused, but Hawk could practically see the thoughts tumbling through his mind. “No, but I can love her without you.” Chance refocused on him, his stare sinking deep into Hawk. “I don’t need you for that.”

 

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