Luna Junction 1 Feasts with Wolves (W) (2 page)

“
I was nine. The twins were
only four.”

I tried to recall whether Matthew had
ever elaborated on how his mother had died. I hesitated to ask for
fear he may have already told me and the information had been lost
in my infamous sieve of a brain.

But Matthew had already moved on to
another subject. He swore under his breath. “Wish he’d just find
some female to pair off with. Might make him back the hell
off.”

“
Who?”

He looked at me. “My
father.”

I snorted. “Yeah, my dad paired off
with the bitch who froze my underwear at a seventh grade
sleepover.” I thought about the new long distance exuberance in my
father’s voice as he told me everything I never wanted to know
about male hair plugs. “But he’s happy,” I admitted.

Matthew had either stopped listening
or was feeling quietly sorry for me as he considered how to assuage
my familial sorrows. I craned my neck to see up the road. It seemed
we had travelled a long way. It further seemed there would be
nothing at the end of this tree-lined dirt path except more dirt
and more trees. The high beams blinded me and a scream ripped out
of my throat as Matthew swerved the truck into a ditch to avoid the
honking Chevy Avalanche which rolled to a stop fifty yards way. Two
teenage boys spilled laughingly out of the cab.

Matthew hailed them with a wide grin.
“Who taught you assholes how to drive anyway?” He turned to me and
explained. “My brothers.” One had Matthew’s light hair and sculpted
features. The other was darker and square-jawed. I wondered which
parent the boys took after.

They greeted their brother with
punches and obscenities. Having no siblings of my own, I was always
fascinated by them. The light haired boy noticed me and froze, an
odd look on his face as he turned to Matthew questioningly. The
dark twin was quicker to recover. He extended a gentlemanly hand.
“I’m Zane.” He nudged the other boy with a sharp elbow. “This moron
is Benji.”

I shook his hand, wondering at the
slightly worried look in his dark eyes. “Tatum Murphy.”

Benji turned to Matthew accusingly.
“You didn’t tell Cade you had a girlfriend.”

Matthew blushed and stared
at the steering wheel.
Oh, awkward moment
of all awkward moments
. I chewed my lip and
waited for Matthew to speak because we’d never exactly progressed
to the ‘Who are we, what are we, and where is all this going?’ sort
of chat. Though Benji could hardly be faulted for assuming things.
I understood the wider world thought some level of commitment was
involved when a guy brought a girl home for Christmas.

Matthew’s cold hand found mine and
squeezed limply. His tone was defensive, even a little annoyed.
“Well he should be overjoyed. This is more or less what he’s been
after me about.”

Zane nodded sagely. “No doubt, big
brother. Though it might have made him think twice about inviting
his guest.”

Matthew frowned. “What
guest?”

Benji raised his eyebrows and glanced
at Zane. “Claire.”

The effect on Matthew was
electric. He dropped my hand and gripped the steering wheel as if
it were a life preserver. Which left me adrift with the silent
question
Who the hell is Claire?
I realized the twins were looking at me so I
smiled gaily as if news of this Claire person did not trouble me at
all.

An uncomfortable silence reigned as
Matthew drove the remaining short distance. We pulled up in front
of a sprawling single story ranch house. The place was attractive
in a gray, unassuming sort of way. There were no flowers or other
small touches of beauty which usually indicate a feminine presence.
A dark red barn loomed in the background. It was a very different
sort of home than the lavish decadence I had grown up with in
Silicon Valley.

Matthew turned the engine off. “I’m
sorry about this, Tatum.”

I shrugged. “Hey, it was cool of you
to invite me so no pressure, okay?”

He coughed and closed his eyes. “The
boys were right,” he muttered. “I should have warned him I was
bringing you.”

Warned? My presence required red flags
and alarm sirens? I wondered what the hell kind of father Cade
Landon was. The cabin of the truck was growing swiftly colder and I
noted the approaching clouds in the winter sky. “Well,” I said.
“I’m still hungry and you promised me a home cooked
lunch.”

He chewed on the inside of his lip,
looking for all the world like a completely unsexy and worried
little boy. “All right,” he swallowed. “Let’s go.”

The inside of the house was austerely
decorated with rustic touches. A small Christmas tree stood just
inside the foyer. My boot heels clicked against dark wooden floors.
I glanced up, admiring the exposed beams which gave the place a
pioneer cabin feel. Matthew nodded at the large living room. “My
dad built it all himself.”

“
No kidding? I love it.
Must have been nice to grow up here. I used to wish I was a country
girl out on a farm. You know, with a bunch of chickens to tend to.
Or goats. I like goats too.” Somewhere in there I stopped making
sense even to myself but Matthew didn’t appear to be listening. I
smelled the heavenly aroma of searing meat and my stomach
growled.

I followed Matthew down the dark hall
and into the kitchen. The table was piled with about a dozen steaks
cooked so rare they still bled. Matthew stopped walking so abruptly
that I smacked right into his back. The pert little blond sitting
at the table smiled angelically when she saw him. The smile
vanished a mere second later when she saw me peeking around his
shoulder.

Matthew swallowed.
“Claire.”

Claire managed a watery grin. “Hey,
Matt. I’m sorry. Cade invited me. I didn’t know you had a…” Her sad
eyes trailed back to me.

I waved. “Hi Claire. I’m Tatum.
Matthew and I go to ASU together.”

Claire nodded vaguely, her eyes still
on the spectacularly still statue of Matthew. I supposed I would
have to literally push him out of the way to enter the room. Claire
seemed to remember her manners and smiled at me shyly. “There’s
plenty of meat.” Her eyebrows arched. “You are the sort who eats
meat, right?”

“
Uh, yeah. I’m the sort.
Not used to meat quite so thick and gory, but my stomach’s not apt
to be choosy at this point.”

Matthew still blocked the doorway,
glancing around. “Does he know I’m here?”

Claire looked at him knowingly. “What
do you think?”

“
Right. Being away, I
forget.”

“
Apparently.”

I felt as if I had walked into the
middle of a rolling movie set and been denied a copy of the script.
“You got any ketchup to go with that steak?”

Matthew and Claire seemed to find the
idea of ketchup hilarious. They peered into one another’s eyes and
guffawed like fools and I thought maybe country people didn’t use
ketchup. Or else ketchup was some inside joke or sexual kink
between these two. “Okay, so no ketchup. A1 sauce then?”

Later, I swore I felt him behind me
before I heard his approach. The hair on the back of my neck seemed
to stand on end and a finger of heat tickled my insides. “Matthew.”
The low timbre of his voice was sensual and commanding. Matthew
stiffened and I turned. He was a full head taller than me;
dark-haired and with at least a day of beard shadow on his jaw. The
simple flannel shirt he wore did nothing to mask an imposing
physique. He had spoken Matthew’s name but looked only at me. His
eyes traveled with slow purpose up and down my body and then rested
on my face with a bemused expression.

Matthew cleared his throat. “Tatum
Murphy, this is Cade Landon. My father.” If I didn’t gasp out loud,
I sure as hell felt the internal jolt of learning this superb hunk
of man flesh was old enough to father a grown son. Cade Landon
leaned a hand against the wall and let his gaze wander unabashedly
to my breasts. Matthew spoke quietly. “Tatum is a
friend.”

Cade ran a hand through his black hair
and grinned. “Pleased to meet you, Tatum. I’m glad Matt is making
friends. They’re a rare breed.”

“
It’s nice to meet you. I
hope I’m not imposing, sir.”

“
Sir,” he whispered the
word to himself and looked me up and down again, smirking. “Sir.
Well, I guess in your eyes that’s how I rate.”

Matthew was trying to move me out of
the way and reach his father. “We should talk, Dad.”

Cade sighed. “If you say so.” He
snapped his fingers. “Claire, be a sweetheart and get Miss Tatum
here fed and comfortable. You girls can share the guest
room.”

Matthew shot me a look of apology as
he followed his father into the recesses of the house. I wondered
if there was a point at which he would admit this had been a huge
mistake. Perhaps Benji and Zane could drive me back to
Phoenix.

Claire grabbed some two-pronged forks
and skewered a pair of steaks. “We can hang out on the back patio.
Then I’ll show you to the guest room.” She smiled feebly. “I am
sorry. Matt wasn’t expecting me to be here.”

As I followed her outside into the
blistering cold I wondered why she had neglected to bring plates.
Did the Landon men keep plates out on the patio? And what kind of a
lunch was a lonely slab of undercooked meat? Clair settled herself
prettily on a wooden chair and handed me one dangling steak as she
balanced the other. Then she did something astonishing. Her pearly
little teeth ripped a gigantic hole in that piece of meat. She
chewed and gazed dreamily toward the mountains. I looked at my own
dripping meat slab and nibbled lightly on the top. There must be
regional propriety differences I was unaware of. If I were a
sociology major I would probably find the concept
fascinating.

Claire consumed her steak in admirable
time as I shivered, trying to choke down the sodden meat while
keeping blood from dribbling down my chin and speculating about E
Coli. She crossed her petite legs and regarded me curiously.
“You’re probably wondering what the deal is with me and
Matthew.”

A blast of arctic wind tore through my
thin shirt and I felt numb. “A little,” I admitted.

She smiled. “It’s old news. Really. We
were kids together. After high school I needed to get out of here
so I enrolled in a small college in Virginia which is full of our
sort.” She paused, a regretful look on her face. “Not Matt though.
He thought he needed a mainstream university. My brothers still
live in Luna Junction but I don’t usually come back for holidays.
Cade paid for my plane ticket because he wants so badly for his
eldest son to be settled and he thought I was the best chance.” Her
gaze lowered. “We didn’t know about you.”

I swallowed. It would have been nice
to have a drink to wash that half-cooked animal down. “Settled?
He’s twenty. Is this Little House on the Prairie where people marry
at fifteen and perish by age forty? Anyway, you don’t have to worry
about me and Matthew. It’s not on my agenda to ‘settle’ with anyone
at the moment.”

Claire seemed to pity me. “Gosh, that
boy really didn’t tell you anything, did he?”

I sighed and put my steak down. “No,
I’m beginning to think he didn’t.” I shifted my frozen rear end.
“Know what? I need to find the little girls’ room.”

“
Go down the hallway. First
door on the right.” She turned back to the mountains and played
with the ends of her golden hair. “I’ll be inside in a few minutes
to get you moved into the guest room.”

I opened the patio door. The warmth of
the interior beckoned like a cozy blanket. “Hey, aren’t you cold?
I’m freaking freezing.”

She shook her head with a small laugh.
“No, Tatum. I have thick skin.”

I followed Claire’s directions. In
spite of her evident weirdness, I rather liked her. I was beginning
to realize there would be no barn humping this week; at least none
in which I participated. But that was okay. Somewhere between the
desert and ponderosas, Matthew Landon had sort of lost his
appeal.

Belatedly I realized I had found the
wrong hallway. The door I opened led right to a man cave with a
gigantic four poster bed. The room was neat and decorated with the
same rustic austerity as the rest of the house. A long dresser
stood on the far side of the wall but that wasn’t what caught my
eye. On top of the dresser was a three foot high exquisite iron
sculpture of a wolf. The artist was very talented; I felt as if the
creature’s inanimate eyes were assessing me coolly and deciding
whether to tear me limb from limb.

The bed was impeccably made
up, covered with only a thin blanket, and I realized I had likely
entered the personal den of Cade Landon. The thought brought a
flush of heat as I recalled my body’s response to his earlier
proximity. I also had not missed the way his eyes appraised every
curve of my body. Suddenly I had brief flash of laying spread
eagled on that great bed as the nude muscular form of Cade Landon
hovered above me and prepared to plunge deep into my trembling
center. I blushed and let out a shaky breath as the iron wolf
regarded me accusingly.
Was I
nuts
? Was I so desperate for action that I
would even momentarily consider screwing…a
dad
??