Wolf at the Door: Salvation Pack, Book 1 (17 page)

The coffeepot was hissing and spitting in the background and she had her head in the refrigerator, trying to decide what she wanted when she felt the fine hairs on the back of her neck stir.

Gwen straightened and turned, expecting to find Jacque behind her. Instead, it was Gator, with his midnight-black hair and eyes the blue of a summer sky. He was wearing faded jeans, boots and a black muscle shirt. Lethal menace rolled off him in waves. “You hungry,
chère
?”

“Umm, yeah.” Obviously, she was hungry. She was also slightly tongue-tied since this was the first time she’d been alone with any of the men without Jacque by her side.

Gator sauntered into the room. He moved like Jacque did, all lean strength and predatory grace. He stopped about three feet from her. “What would you like?”

What would she like? To go home and forget any of this ever happened? Maybe. She wasn’t so certain about that anymore. Not if it meant never meeting Jacque. A quiver of arousal shot through her at the memory of what they’d done earlier. His hands and mouth had explored much of her body, leaving ribbons of heat in their wake.

“Gwen?” Gator’s eyes narrowed and he looked concerned.

“I’m thinking,” she snapped, embarrassed that she’d been caught daydreaming about Jacque when she should have all her attention on the man in front of her.

He smiled and he went from intimidating to drop-dead gorgeous in a heartbeat. Oh man, what was it about these werewolves? There was something about them, some kind of animal magnetism that drew a woman’s eye. Even if she wasn’t attracted to him in the same way she was to Jacque, she could appreciate the male splendor of him.

“While you’re thinking how about I make you an omelet?” Gator moved past her and reached into the refrigerator. Gwen retreated to stand by the counter to give him space. He pulled out eggs, peppers, green onions and mushrooms. Her mouth watered.

“I can do it.” It was strange to have someone offer to cook for her. She lived alone and was used to cooking for one, when she cooked at all. Mostly she lived on takeout and quick stuff like sandwiches and bagels.

“You should still be resting.” Gator opened the cupboard doors and pulled down a large bowl. He expertly cracked an egg with one hand and then another and another. Gwen was fascinated by his easy, controlled actions.

“You cook?” Duh, she wanted to smack herself in the head at her stupid question. She really needed a shot of coffee to get her wits about her.

“It relaxes me.” Gator reached for a large wood cutting board and began to chop vegetables. He wielded the knife like a pro, his motions fast and economical.

The coffeepot gave a final hiss and Gwen grabbed a mug from the shelf and poured herself some. On impulse, she filled a second mug and set it on the counter next to Gator. He flashed her another one of those lethal smiles. “Thanks. There’s sugar in the canister and milk in the fridge if you need it.”

Gwen scooped two teaspoons of sugar into her mug and stirred, using the time to order her thoughts. “How long have I been here?”

Gator was back at the refrigerator pulling out some cheddar cheese. He paused and leaned against the open door. “Four days.”

That long. It seemed like a flash of time. But in another way it felt as though she’d been here forever. Her hand shook as she lifted her mug and sipped the hot coffee, letting it warm her.

“You should sit down.” Gator frowned as he grated cheese, not stopping until he had a mound of the gold stuff. Then he began to assemble her omelet.

“I’d rather watch what you’re doing if you don’t mind?” He made cooking look so easy and she was curious.

“I don’t mind at all. But if Jacque finds out you tired yourself, he’ll kick my ass.” Gator grinned, seemingly not at all worried about the looming threat.

“I’ll take my chances,” she answered.

Gator laughed and tossed the onions, peppers and mushrooms into the pan with some oil. The sizzle made her stomach growl and the aroma coming from the pan made her mouth water.

“What about the men who attacked us?” She’d been so out of it she hadn’t even thought to question Jacque about it. When she’d finally awoken she’d had other things on her mind. Like sex with Jacque. “And where is Jacque?”

Gator moved the veggies around with a spatula, keeping it all cooking evenly. “Jacque is out on patrol. We’ve all been taking turns, but he’s been occupied for the last few days.”

With her. The words went unspoken. She chewed on her bottom lip, worried that the others might know they’d had sex. Four days in captivity and she’d had sex with one of her abductors. Except it no longer felt like an abduction and Jacque wasn’t exactly a normal kidnapper. She hadn’t been abused in any way. Quite the contrary. They’d all protected her with their lives and treated her with kindness and respect.

“As for the men who attacked.” Gator poured the eggs into the pan and shook it to make sure all the cooked veggies were covered. “They’ve been taken care of.” His lips firmed and Gwen knew she’d get no more out of him than that.

These men were different from any she’d ever known. Yes, they were werewolves. Obvious difference there. Major. But it was something more. They were nurturing and protective. Gator was a fine example. He barely knew her, yet he’d protected her and now he was making her breakfast or lunch or whatever it was.

“What time is it?” There was no clock in the kitchen and her watch had disappeared with her clothing the first night she’d arrived.

He pulled a timepiece out of the front pocket of his jeans, checked it and shoved it back. “It’s just after two in the afternoon.” Gator sprinkled cheese on top of the eggs and it quickly melted. He folded the omelet in half and flipped it like an expert. He jerked his head toward a drawer. “There are forks and knives in there.”

“Right.” Time to make herself useful. She got the necessary cutlery and ripped off a square of paper towel from the roll on the counter to use as a napkin.

She placed a plate on the counter just as Gator lifted the pan from the stove. “Thanks.” He slid the golden omelet onto it and motioned for her to take it.

“It smells wonderful.” She carried it to the table, sank down onto a chair and picked up her fork and knife. The first mouthful made her moan. The peppers and onions were perfection, the eggs fluffy and the cheese gooey. “It’s so good,” she said around a mouthful.

Gator set the hot pan in the sink, picked up his mug of coffee and joined her at the table. He was silent as she ate. She savored each mouthful, taking time to chew her food so she wouldn’t make herself ill by eating too fast.

She was about halfway through her meal when the backdoor opened. Her gaze flew to the man stepping inside and she stifled her disappointment when she saw it was Louis and not his brother.

“You’re up. How you feeling?”

These men did like to ask her that question. “Good,” she replied. “Enjoying the omelet Gator made for me.”

Louis nodded at Gator and went straight to the coffeepot. “That fresh?”

“Yeah. Gwen made it.” Gator stretched his long legs out in front of him and rested his mug against his flat stomach.

Louis poured himself some coffee and joined them. Gwen could sense his gaze on her, but she made herself cut and eat another bite of her omelet before looking up. She was thinking about what Jacque had told her that first day. That Louis wanted her too. Maybe Jacque had misinterpreted his brother’s interest.

She glanced at Louis, saw the barely banked heat in his eyes and lowered her head. Nope, Jacque had been telling the truth. How awkward was this? Louis seemed like an okay guy. They all did. But he didn’t rev her engines, not like Jacque did.

The men talked about mundane, everyday things while she finished up. Stuff like a repair that needed to be made to a truck and a plumbing job at another cabin. Her ears perked up at that one. There was transportation and at least one other home around. Good to know. Not that she was thinking about going anywhere anytime soon.

Her plans had taken a complete one-eighty in the past few days. She no longer wanted to escape. Not yet at any rate, not until the threat to her safety was gone. Gwen had no idea how long that could take—days, weeks or months. She couldn’t really afford to put her life on hold for that long, but there really wasn’t much choice. Not with a death threat looming over her.

She finished her meal and rose from the table. Gator started to stand, but Gwen shooed him back to his seat. “I can get this.” If she was going to be staying here for a while she needed to find her footing among these men. The dishwasher was easy to find and she piled her dishes in it. She snagged the coffeepot on her way back to the table, refilled her mug and topped up Gator’s before returning the carafe to the warming plate.

“I need somewhere to work.” She needed something to ground her. Her entire life lately had become something out of a horror novel. Actually, it was more like a paranormal romance. She’d been scared out of her mind and had earth-shattering sex. It was enough to make a woman’s head spin. Work had always been her fallback, the thing that anchored her life. She needed it now more than ever.

“Sure.” Louis pushed back from the table and set his mug aside. “The boxes with all your stuff are in the closet at the end of the hall. You can set up in the office.”

“Louis,” Gator’s tone was filled with warning.

Louis shrugged. “Gwen wants to work. I don’t see anything wrong with that.”

“It’s your ass,” Gator muttered. He shoved away from the table and stalked toward the front door.

“Gator,” she called. He paused and looked over his shoulder. “Thank you for the meal. It’s the best omelet I’ve ever had.” And that was no lie. She’d never had an omelet so fluffy and tasty.

Gator’s smile was warm and gentle. “Anytime,
chère
. Anytime.” He left quickly, his steps silent against the floor. They all moved like that—quiet and stealthy. It wasn’t something they had to think about. It came naturally to them.

“Gwen.” Louis’s hands came down on her shoulders. “Let’s get you set up in the office.”

She slipped out from under his grip, not wanting to do anything that might encourage him, but she followed him because she really needed to work. She hadn’t checked her email in days and then there was the problem of her home in Tennessee. At the very least she needed to cut the utilities so she wasn’t paying unnecessary bills. Since, she didn’t know how long it might take for her life to get back to normal, it was essential to conserve money.

Louis was dressed much like Gator in jeans and boots, but he was wearing a plaid shirt. The forest-green and black checks looked great against his brown hair and tanned skin. He was almost as tall as Jacque but not quite as broad. Still, he was larger than most men she’d ever met.

He opened the large walk-in closet door and motioned to a stack of boxes on the left. “These are the ones with your desk stuff.” He motioned to the ones on the right. “These contain the rest of your clothing, the stuff from your bedroom and any dishes and knick knacks that looked like they might have any monetary or sentimental value. If we missed anything we’ll get it for you when the threat is over.”

Everything was stacked neatly. Other than her belongings, there wasn’t much in here except a few large plastic containers that had been pushed to the back. “If the threat is over, I can get my belongings myself.” Gwen needed them all to understand she was an independent woman.

“Gwen,” he began. He shifted his weight onto his back leg. The motion brought her attention lower and she almost swallowed her tongue. There was no mistaking the bulge in the front of his jeans. Louis was aroused.

Startled, Gwen took a step back and bumped into the stack of boxes behind her. One of them teetered precariously. Louis lunged forward. The sound that came out of her was more like a squeak than a protest. She ducked under his arm and out of the way as he grabbed the box and shoved it back up.

Louis spun around and grabbed her arm before she could make her escape from the walk-in closet. The walls were closing in around her. “Gwen,” he began.

“Don’t,” she told him. She didn’t want to hear this, didn’t want to become a bone of contention between him and his brother.

“I have to,” he replied. Before she knew what he intended to do, he swooped down and kissed her. From a purely clinical standpoint, he was a hell of a kisser, but it did absolutely nothing for her.

Gwen shoved at his chest and was relieved when he released her. His dark-brown eyes were filled with unrequited desire. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want to hurt him but he had to hear the truth.

“Louis—” she began, only to be cut off by a loud growl.

“What the hell is going on here?”

Chapter Thirteen

Jacque wanted to rip his brother’s head off and stomp it into the ground for good measure. What did he think he was doing? Gwen was his. If anyone was going to kiss her it was sure as hell going to be him.

When Gator had told him Gwen was up and he’d fed her, Jacque had been in a hurry to see her. Something in Gator’s tone when he mentioned the fact that Louis was in the house with her had hurried his steps. And he was right. Louis was making a play for her.

Gwen caught the predatory look in his eyes and took a step away from him. He growled again, wanting to hit something, preferably his lame-ass brother. Louis simply shrugged. The bastard knew Jacque wouldn’t do anything to really hurt him as much as he might want to. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t beat on him for a while.