Exploring Alaska (The Juneau Packs Book 3)

by Katherine Rhodes

  Delia narrowed her eyes. “As long as you stay on your side.”

  She called after her friend as she walked away. “Girl, you know damn well I don’t swing that way.” Just as Delia turned into the room, her countenance fell, and her voice dropped to a whisper I shouldn’t have been able to hear. “I don’t swing any way…”

  There was more to that. But it was more than my four in the morning brain wanted to handle. Instead, I pulled out the sheets and motioned to the bedroom.

  “Let’s get some sleep.”

  Chapter Four

  I sat up in bed.

  Pancakes. Bacon. Fresh bread.

  What?

  Looking over to the right, Delia was nowhere to be found. Her side of the bed was sort of made. Her pajamas were folded on the chair and her shoes were missing.

  Finally, I thought to look at the clock.

  Twelve-oh-three.

  “In the afternoon?” I positively shrieked the words, shooting out of bed and racing through the house to the kitchen.

  Cool as ice, Patrick was standing at the stove in his boxers, whistling and flipping pancakes.

  “It’s one! We’re supposed to be at—”

  “Good morning, sleepyhead.” He grinned.

  I stopped and brought my feet together. I studied him for a moment. He was utterly nonplussed at the time.

  “What’s going on?” My voice dropped from its hysterical register.

  He glanced at the stove and back at me. “Breakfast?”

  Raising an eyebrow, I walked closer to him. “I can see that. Aren’t we all supposed to be at the cabin right now? Working on it?”

  “Eh. Garrett and I talked earlier. We have sunlight until nearly ten this time of year. No need to rush up there today. We should make a schedule of what’s going to happen when anyway.”

  “So...where’s Delia?”

  “She went to Garrett’s to tease him about humping Jessica.”

  I tossed my head back and laughed. That was Delia. Finding a chair at the table, I sat and pulled the orange juice and cup over to me.

  And that’s when I noticed Patrick.

  My eyes widened as I watched him moving in front of the stove. He was humming and dancing a bit to the tune he invented. His broad, strong back rippled as he flipped one of the pancakes. He danced over to stand on one leg while checking the bacon.

  Oh.

  That ass.

  The sudden overwhelming urge to grab a handful and squeeze was shocking.

  I’d never felt any kind of sexual pull toward anyone. Ever. I figured years ago that my libido had been destroyed. I was able to appreciate a handsome face, a nice bod. But to actually feel sexual was beyond me.

  And yet here I was a liquid warmth between my legs that made me think filthy things about this man dancing in the kitchen, flipping pancakes in his boxers.

  Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. His boxers.

  He was basically naked in here.

  I bit down on my thumb to try to get myself to relax.

  Even his shaggy hair—the wonderful dark brown with red highlights—called to me to run my hands through it.

  What the hell was going on?

  “Do you mind waiting for the food?” he asked.

  I looked around. “What?”

  “We’re all heading over to Garrett’s for breakfast at one.” He turned his head to look at me over his shoulder.

  Rippling back. Piercing green eyes. Dimples.

  Shit.

  “Addi?”

  “Oh. Yeah. I’m good with that.” I had very little idea of what I had just agreed to. “Can I use the shower?”

  “You have an en suite, it’s all yours.” He gestured around with the spatula. “I spared no expense when I built her.”

  I was halfway to the hallway and stopped dead at that. “What?”

  “I spared no expense?”

  “After that.”

  “When I built her?”

  My eyebrows shot up. “You built this house?”

  “Yup. Me and my brother and my father.”

  He could cook, he could build, he could fold a fitted sheet.

  Was the ability to fold a fitted sheet supposed to turn me on? I had no idea. But it was. So was the whole sweaty carpenter building his own house thing…

  “That’s impressive. I’m going to go take a quick shower.”

  “Fair enough. Then you can watch the bacon while I shower.”

  Oh, God, wet naked man fantasy.

  I needed to call my therapist. Now.

  Grabbing my phone and my toiletries, I locked myself in the bathroom and dialed her number. It would be late back home, but she always made exceptions for a few of her hard cases. Like me.

  “Olive Tammerlane.”

  “Hi, Doctor Tammerlane, it’s Addison.”

  “Oh, hello! Hold on a minute. Let me get somewhere quiet.” I heard her shifting and moving. There was a rustling, and shout, and what sounded like a buzzer.

  “Am I interrupting?”

  “It’s my son’s basketball game,” she explained. “They’re smashing the other team and he got benched to allow some of the other players a chance on the court. No big deal.” Another moment and she came back. “Okay, Addi, what’s up? It’s been a long time since you called outside hours.”

  “I, um…” I cleared my throat. “Well, it finally happened. There’s a guy and…”

  “Your libido woke up?” Her voice was somewhere between concerned and ecstatic.

  “In a big way,” I breathed, relieved she understood.

  “Addi, this is good.”

  “It’s terrifying.”

  “Let’s explore where it’s coming from. What triggered this?”

  “His ass,” I said, then gasped that I said it.

  The doctor chuckled but didn’t scold me. “Go on.”

  “Well, I noticed his back first. He’s really well built, and handsome. He was parading around his boxers, and dancing at the stove. And when he went to lean one way his butt…well…”

  “Excellent, Addi. How did you feel?”

  “Like I wanted a handful of butt.”

  She laughed. “I mean you. What did your body do?”

  “Tingles. Everywhere. And my…”

  “Sex?”

  “Yeah, that’s a good word.” I was glad she offered it. I occasionally still freaked out at even the correct biological terms. “My sex got warm. Hot actually. Liquidy.”

  “And what went through your head?”

  I paused. “That I liked it. That I wanted a bit more.”

  Doctor Tammerlane exhaled. “This is excellent, Addi. This is what I was hoping would happen. Everything is just fine. You’re reacting normally. It was only time until you finally moved from ‘appreciation’ to ‘lust.’”

  “This is lust?”

  “Sexual desire, yes. Please don’t confuse that with sexual compatibility. You can desire someone and not be compatible. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try.”

  My eyebrows went up. “Try? Are you telling me to have sex?”

  “I’m telling you to follow your feelings. Sex, any true intimacy, is going to be very hard for you the first time. And you have to promise me that before you do anything with this man, if you choose to, he will know what happened and agree to be willing to slow down or wait for you to be comfortable and ready.”

  “You’re telling me to have sex.”

  “I’m telling you it’s okay to feel sexual and want to have sex, Addi. That’s where you are right now. You have to be prepared for an episode, and you have to prepare your partner for that.”

  “So, it’s okay that I want to get naked with this guy?”

  “It’s okay, but are you ready? That’s what I’m trying to reinforce. He has to know about what happened.”

  “He’s going to think—”

  “Projection, Addi. I’m cutting you off to stop that right now. You don’t know what he’s going to think. I get the feeling you ju
st met him?”

  “Yesterday.”

  “Then give yourself time. You don’t have to act on this right now. You don’t have to explain anything. We already know you’re fine with light physical contact. Keep it there. And keep in mind that if he pushes, he’s not the right guy. Real men respect and listen to their significant other.”

  I took a long, slow breath. “Right. Don’t have to act on it. Don’t have to be pushed. When I’m ready.”

  “Good, awesome, Addi. You’re doing so damn well, I’m proud of you. Don’t forget to ask your friends for help. You said they knew the whole story, so you can lean on them.”

  “Yes, they do. I can ask. Thank you.”

  “And, Addi?”

  “Yes?”

  “When in doubt? Knock him out.”

  I had to choke back the laugh. “Good point, Doctor. I had to nearly do that yesterday for a friend.”

  “Anything bad?”

  “Just a creeper.”

  “Huh. And you acted on behalf of your friend?”

  “Well, yeah, he was being creepy and gross.”

  I could hear the smile in her voice. “We have made better progress than I thought, Addison. Three years ago, you would have never moved. You would have been frozen. I think between the therapy and the akido, you’re further along than we think. I’m proud of you.”

  “Thanks.”

  “All right, it sounds like we’re in a good place for now. Any time you need, Addi. I’ll be here. Enjoy your trip.”

  “Thanks, Doc Tammerlane.”

  “Truly, Addison, my pleasure. Talk to you soon.”

  The phone disconnected, and I stared at it for a moment. She was right. Dead right. Even a year ago, I wouldn’t have moved to help Zanna. Yesterday, I actually acted without thought, and then never thought about it again.

  Maybe, someday, I would be able to handle normal interactions with other humans.

  I jerked my head up and realized where I was.

  I was in Patrick’s bathroom. I had run into his bedroom. It was only him and me in the house. I didn’t know him well at all. Delia had trusted me to stay here alone.

  I hadn’t panicked. At all.

  A laugh bubbled out of me. This was awesome. The doctor had been right—I was further than I thought I was with this. There hadn’t been an ounce of panic in the kitchen—just desperate curiosity to find out where Delia had gone.

  For her safety.

  Snatching the phone back from the countertop, I shot off a text to Delia.

  MaddyAddi: I’m alone in the house with Patrick.

  MaddyAddi: and I’m not, repeat, NOT panicking.

  Deli-A: Oh, God, I’m sorry, Addi. I didn’t leave a note. Do you need me to come back?

  MaddyAddi: No. Stay where you are. I’m fine.

  MaddyAddi: Delia. I’M FINE. Do you know how awesome this is?!

  Deli-A: Seriously? You’re fine?

  MaddyAddi: YES. It’s amazing!

  Deli-A: Are you coming over for brekky?

  MaddyAddi: I guess so. Patrick is in the kitchen cooking. I’ll text you if we aren’t.

  She sent back a thumbs-up, and I tossed the phone on the counter.

  Shower time. I needed one—I didn’t want to hurt Brandy’s feelings, but that house was crap. Showers were critical. And not feeling like there were bugs on everything. Or dust. Or dirt.

  And it was nice that there were no coyotes at the door.

  * * *

  The door opened and shut, and I barely looked up. I’d heard my mother’s footsteps on the stairs, knew she would let herself in.

  She stood in the doorway of the kitchen, staring at me.

  “Is it true?” she asked.

  I glanced up and hid my smile. “Is what true?”

  “You’re cleaning your house because of a woman?”

  There was no stopping my laugh. My mother was one of the best women I knew, and I loved her to death. She also had a mean streak a mile wide and a sense of humor that was twice that.

  “Yeah, it’s true.” I peered under the fridge again. “How the hell do you clean under this?”

  “You move it.” She shrugged. “So, tell me about her?”

  “She’s my mate, what more is there to say?”

  Taking a seat at the table, she rested her chin on a fist. “You’re going to lose her with that attitude.”

  “What?”

  Mom sighed. “Where did we fail with you? You can’t just say, ‘she’s my mate’ and think that’s it. What about her. What color are her eyes? Is hair like spun flax, or tawny brown? Does she listen to Dylan or Keith Urban? Does she like the Beatles or would she prefer Elvis? What about flowers? What if she has an allergy? What if she likes satin sheets and not cotton?”

  I sat back on my legs. “But she’s my mate. We’ll get to know each other.”

  Mom leaned forward and poked me in the shoulder. “She’s your mate, not a blank notebook. She’s also a damn human, and you know that’s tricky. Look, you’re the youngest of my pups right now, and you’re one step behind Garrett finding your mate. Normally, we all let you screw up once and then help you figure it out. But this…well.

  “You have to remember that she’s human, Son. Humans are of the date first, mate later. Wolves, in fact all shifters, are mate first, date later. Our wolves are happy enough then to let us get to know the person.

  “But that’s not what she expects. You need to woo her. And don’t look at me like that for the word woo. It’s a perfectly fine word, screw linguistic drift. You have to. You have a very big secret you need to tell her, and you need her trust first.”

  I sighed. I had been thinking about just getting her into bed and worrying about the rest later. But my mother was right—I did need to take my time.

  Mom didn’t know just how right she was with all the secrets I would have to tell her. She thought I hadn’t done the screwed my life up completely thing yet.

  Ha.

  Standing up, I dusted off my hands.

  She looked up at me. “That didn’t mean stop cleaning the house.”

  The laugh slipped out. “No, I know that. I’m just going to get the vacuum. It’s gotta be easier than crawling on the floor.”

  Watching me head to the closet where I keep the cleaning supplies, she called after me. “So? What do you know about her? She had her eyes on you all during breakfast.”

  I rolled the vacuum out. “Truthfully? Not much. We haven’t really had a chance to talk. Either she’s around someone or she’s up at that cabin working.” I sighed. “I’ve been trying to get her alone since I scented her. But, damn are her friends protective.”

  “You are just as tenacious as her friends,” Mom said. “Plus, I heard that Delia has her eyes on Jason McGarrigal.”

  Twisting my lip, I gave her a confused look. “When did that happen?”

  “Yesterday. All over Mendenhall, according to Jessica.”

  “Are you already one on one with my brother’s mate?”

  She looked sheepish. “I might have eavesdropped. A little.”

  “A little?”

  “Okay, a lot. I’m shocked he didn’t scent me standing there.”

  I laughed. “Mom! You’re really going to hear things you don’t want to hear like that.”

  A grimace passed over her face. “I already have.”

  I let out a raucous guffaw that time.

  Eventually, Mom took pity on me and started helping me clean the house. She took over the kitchen and living room, which was fine. I didn’t want her in my bedroom. At all. She didn’t need to step foot in that unholy shrine of sexual deviation.

  Stripping the bed, I realized it was time for a new one. If I was going to have a mate, there was no way I was going to lay her down in that bed of filth.

  It shocked me how fast I swung from manwhore in the bedroom to is it legal to burn this mattress on my front lawn. It didn’t really deserve much more.

  Staring at the naked, filthy mattres
s, I really wondered if I deserved better. I was young for a wolf, just thirty-nine, but all I had done for the past eleven years was hop in the sack with whatever woman was willing and able.

  Sometimes more than one.

  I yanked the mattress off the box spring and dragged it through the doorway, through the hall, and out the back door.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Mom was running after me.

  “I’m going to order a new mattress! I want this one gone.”

  Stopping on the porch, she watched me. “That’s a sudden decision to make…”

  I flopped it down in the grass. It was even more disgusting in the sunlight.

  “Ew. Ew! Patrick, what the—No. You know what? This is one of those times a mother turns around, walks away, and shuts the door behind her. Burn that.”

  “Is it legal?”

  “I don’t even care. Burn it.” True to her word, she turned on her heel and marched back into the house, closing the door.

  I guessed I was burning it. I grabbed the chainsaw from the wood shed and hacked the thing into smaller chunks, then toss the pieces on a burn pile, with plenty of kindling in the form of dead branches and old law cuttings underneath.

  There was a lighter in the shed, and I quickly had that whole pile burning.

  I’d sleep in the other spare room until I could get the smell of sex out of mine, and get a new mattress delivered.

  Might be a while.

  “Oh my God, Patrick, what the hell?”

  I whipped around.

  Addi was standing in the doorway, looking in shock at the flames.

  “Oh. Uh. Hi. It’s burn day, so…”

  “Your mattress?”

  “I’ve been meaning to.”

  She put her hand over her mouth and gagged. Shaking her head, she ran back into the house.

  The wind changed direction and a breeze of toxic fumes drifted over me. After an accidental lungful, I ran after her, gagging my own way into the house.

  “Holy crap, Addi, I’m sorry! I didn’t realize that was going to stink that much.”

  “The mattress store would have hauled that off.”

  Er. Ew. No, they wouldn’t have touched it with a ten foot poll. Which was why it was burning in the backyard. “Yeah, it was an…impulse.”

  “Global warming, you douche,” Addi bit out. “Don’t make it worse.”

  “Yeah, Son, don’t make it worse.” My mother was standing behind her, her whole face trembling with a laugh she didn’t want to let out. “I’m going to go…clean a bathroom.”