Authors: Chandra Ryan
Tags: #paranormal romance, #M/M, #gay romance, #LGBT romance, #werewolf, #shape shifter
“She had been. At one time. There’s no joke in that.” Gee’s glare turned Jackson’s blood to ice. “She loved him very much.”
He leaned away from the bar. Everything from Gee’s size to the air of menace he displayed told Jackson to tread carefully. It was clear the man felt protective of this pack. Aimee included.
“I don’t doubt she loved him. It’s….” He somehow managed to stop before the rest of the truth slipped out.
“What?” Gee’s expression softened, but there was no doubt in Jackson’s mind if he said the wrong thing, the man would throw him out before he could blink.
“Nothing.”
“Nothing is ever nothing. Stop sulking and spit it out. Why do you think our Aimee owes you the time of day?”
“She’s my mate.” Jackson murmured so no one but Gee could hear.
“Oh.”
He stared at the empty glass in his hands, unable to bring himself to look up at Gee as the truth spilled from his soul. “I’ve searched for so long. I never married or had kids. I always knew I’d find her. Then I did.” He motioned for a refill.
“Sounds like she put a couple wrinkles in your plans.”
“Yeah.” This time he sipped the drink. “In all the years of imagining what finding her would be like, I never once pictured someone like her.”
“She’s a good woman. Gave up her art for the pack.”
“She used to be an artist? ” For the first time since he saw her, he found himself interested for some reason other than being her mate. “What happened?”
“I may give counsel, but I don’t gossip. You should talk to her if you want to know more.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“The universe doesn’t give many gifts. To scorn one of the precious is a dangerous game.”
Maybe the man was right. As soon as the thought popped into his head, he remembered the ease with which she’d lied to him while standing there in her designer clothes with her perfectly polished nails. “I’m not scorning anything. I did approach her. She took one look at me and hightailed it out of here.”
“She did.” Gee had the nerve to smile.
“Her running out of here like her house was on fire makes you happy?”
“You’re a Wolf. Chase her.”
He played with the glass for a few more seconds before finishing the drink. “Chase her.”
Why hadn’t he thought of it? Giving chase seemed so obvious when someone else said it. “Best idea I’ve heard all night.”
After he settled his tab, he made his way out into the night. There might not be many houses in the recovering town, but there were enough to make hunting her down a challenge. Finding her would take time. He could ask someone where she lived but he only knew her first name. He doubted any of the pack would give a stranger directions to her house. Not at this time of night. Plus, opening his senses to track her excited him. Knowing she was near, he couldn’t stop smelling for her anyway. Might as well put the instinct to good use.
He walked around for half an hour before he found a house that smelled of her—freshly roasted coffee and vanilla. Back at the bar, he liked her scent, but he hadn’t been able to identify it with all the other Wolves so close. But at that moment, enveloped by her smell, he could place the aromas. They were comforting and enticing at the same time.
He took a deep breath as he worked up the nerve to climb the porch steps. He wasn’t a coward, but he also didn’t like rushing headfirst into rejection. From what he’d gathered about her so far, he guessed she wouldn’t throw open the door and rush into his arms. He gritted his teeth at the thought. He couldn’t help it. Her cold shoulder irritated him. He may be a mechanic, but he was one of the best damn mechanics in the state. Still, he had a sinking feeling her late husband had held a white-collar kind of job.
Soft voices coming from her house made his decision to intrude on her evening easier for him. If she had it in her to entertain guests at this hour, he didn’t feel bad about knocking on her door. When she didn’t answer, however, his earlier irritation grew.
She might be used to the finer things in life, but he was a damn good catch. Okay, so maybe he had grease under his nails and calluses on his hands. He was a hard worker who didn’t shirk his duties. And maybe his clothes came from department-store racks. They looked good on him. He took care of himself.
When he knocked the second time, the door vibrated with the force he used. If she didn’t want him, fine. So be it. But he deserved to hear her say the words. Her flat out ignoring him pissed him off.
When a few more minutes passed, he growled.
Who the hell does she think she is, anyway?
He didn’t give a shit what she’d sacrificed for the pack. She acted like a stuck-up bitch, and someone should call her on it.
He raised his fist for the third time, but the door swung open. There, on the other side of the threshold, stood his mate wrapped in nothing more than a delectable towel. Her mouth moved as if she were saying something, but he couldn’t get past how beautiful she looked. And smelled. Damn, he wanted to leap into her house and lick her.
“Well? I’m waiting?” She tapped her foot in clear irritation.
Oh, right. She’s been talking.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you.”
She rolled her eyes. “What gives you the right to hunt me down in the dead of night?”
The voices he’d heard earlier reached him clearly, and he realized the sounds came from a stereo somewhere in the house. She hadn’t been ignoring him. She’d been taking a bath. But that didn’t excuse her earlier behavior. “You’re my mate, and you lied to me. You told me you were married.”
“I showed you my wedding ring. I didn’t
tell
you a damn thing.”
He snorted at the distinction. “You meant for me to think you were married so I’d leave you alone. Why? Didn’t like the universe pairing you with a commoner?” There. He’d told her the truth.
“It wouldn’t have made any difference to me if you were a homeless bum or the prince of a European country. I just want to be left alone.”
Yeah. Like she would’ve turned her cute little nose up at a prince.
He didn’t believe her for one second. But he couldn’t come right out and call her a liar. That would kill any shot they had of getting together. He’d waited his entire life to find her. As much as she irritated him, he still hoped they would find a way to make some sort of relationship work. “Fine. But if you wanted me to leave you alone, you should’ve had the decency to tell me to my face. If your ring meant half as much as it should, you wouldn’t be hiding behind it. And you most certainly shouldn’t use the memory of your dead husband to lie to people.”
She glared at him, and her body trembled. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Yeah. That’s what happens when you go around lying to people.”
“Okay. You want to know the truth?” Her eyes snapped with anger, but her scent held a sweet undertone of pleasure. She enjoyed arguing with him.
“Please.”
“My husband died two years ago from cancer. My pack did nothing to help him. They could’ve, but they chose not to. So no, I don’t give a shit if the heavens open up and the stars align to spell out, ‘he’s the one.’ My pack turned their back on me, so I’ve turned my back on their traditions.”
“You’re going to punish me for what they did. Or what they didn’t do as the case may be?”
Her eyes glittered with unshed tears. “Collateral damage.”
“But that’s not—”
“Life’s not fair.” She slammed the door in his face.
Most would consider their little spat a complete loss, lick their wounds, and be on their way. But he wasn’t like most people. If anything, their fight had convinced him the stars were right. She might not like the universe meddling in her life, but he was what she needed. And
she
was what he wanted.