~

 

Jordan paced. She’d tried to sit down, to stay calm, and not to think what was happening with Harvey but it just wasn’t working for her.

She’d given Macy her supper, put her in the bath, and then read the customary three stories to her at bedtime. It had helped a little, but now she was at a loose end, and she didn’t know what do with herself.

“You’re going to wear a groove into those floorboards,” Jon said. He was sitting in his favorite armchair and had been trying to ignore her pacing for the past however long.

“Well, at least I know I’ll have made my mark,” Jordan said. She’d been trying to ignore the fact that her father had been strumming his fingers against the armrests for the past hour.

“He’ll be fine. He’s a big guy and a grown man. He can take care of himself.”

“So is the other guy.” Jordan tossed back over her shoulder as she paced towards the picture window. Then she performed a military turn and about faced it towards the door of the room once more.

She’d only managed to get halfway across the room when she heard the sound of a truck rolling up outside. Jordan whirled back towards the window, slapped her palms down on the windowsill, and banged her forehead against the glass as she peered out.

“Sure, break the window as well. That will ensure you leave your mark.” Her father could say what he wanted, but she could hear the relief in his voice.

Jordan squealed inwardly at the site of Harvey’s truck. She pushed away from the window and raced towards the door.

“No running in the house!” Jon bit out. “If that rule is good enough for your daughter then it’s good enough for you.”

Jordan barely heard her father’s words as she raced to the front door, yanked it open, and threw herself outside. Her eyes devoured Harvey from head to toe. The man was battered, bloodied, bruised, much as he had been earlier that day when he’d rescued Macy – but he was a sight for sore eyes.

“Please tell me the other guy looks worse,” Jordan demanded as she tossed her hands onto her hips and gave him a no-nonsense look.

Harvey grumbled to himself as he frowned at his mate. The sound of Owen chuckling didn’t help matters.

“He looks worse,” Harvey grumbled.

“You kicked his big furry backside back to clan land?” She demanded once more.

“He’ll crawl back there eventually,” Owen chuckled again.

“I can speak for myself,” Harvey growled.

“Go on then. It’s not like I’m holding onto your tongue,” Owen sniped back.

Harvey stopped within a few feet of his mate. He eyed her for a long moment, and she looked mad. He wasn’t sure what he’d done wrong this time, but he’d make it up to her whatever it was.

“You have a little blood — everywhere,” Jordan said it like an accusation, and Harvey got that she was angry at him again.

“It happens,” Harvey said.

“How often?” Jordan asked, folding her arms in front of her as she squared up to him.

“Only when necessary from tonight on,” Harvey offered back and watched her lips pull up into a dazzling smile. That smile alone was worth getting repeatedly punched in the face.

“Sounds good,” Jordan grinned at him, and it was a grin that was full of mischief, happiness, and promise.

“Get a room,” Owen bit out as he rolled his eyes at the pair of them, and kicked the mud from his boots before he sidestepped Jordan and went to walk into the house.

Jon stepped up to the open doorway and gave Owen a long hard look.

“You going somewhere?” Jon asked the vampire.

“Now you know I’ve already been invited in,” Owen tossed back. “Right?”

“Doesn’t mean you get to come in whenever you want,” Jon said with a scowl for the man.

“Even if I bring a gift?” Owen raised his hand and the bottle of Scotch that he had a grip on. Jon raised his left eyebrow back at him and considered his words carefully.

“Now, you are the kind of houseguest that I like.”

“How easily they fall prey to my deviously wicked ways,” Owen said with a small chuckle.

“Damn, Harvey, who handed you your backside?” Jon snorted a deep chuckle, Harvey chose not to see the funny side of it.

“The other guy looks worse,” Harvey grumbled.

“You killed him?” Jon tossed back.

“No.”

“Then I don’t see how he could look much worse,” Jon said with a shake of his head.

“You know, I think you and me are going to get on like a house on fire,” Owen grinned at the shifter’ s expense.

“As long as the only thing you have a taste for is that Scotch — we’ll get on just fine.” Jon offered back. “As for the two of you,” he turned his attention towards Jordan, “don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Dad!” Jordan protested with a look of horror on her face.

“Oh, life is going to be so much more fun from now on,” Owen grinned at Harvey, and the shifter grumbled a growl back.

“Guess you’re coming home with me,” Harvey said. The growl that rumbled through His chest sounded decidedly hungry.

“Oh, am I?” Jordan snorted her contempt for his words.

“I can always toss you over my shoulder and carry you.” Harvey was in his element now. He had her father’s blessing to woo her. And woo her he would.

“You don’t look like you could carry a brown paper sack,” Jordan teased him, but when Harvey let out a low rumble of another growl, she wasn’t entirely sure that offering her mate a challenge had been the right thing to do.

“Sweetheart, I would walk through a burning building and crawl over hot coals for you. Carrying you to my truck is child’s play.” Harvey didn’t bother waiting for her answer. He dipped at the waist and tossed her body up and over his left shoulder.

Jordan let out a squeal from the shock of finding herself hanging down his back. Her hands gripped his ripped shirt as she tried to push upwards, but when he made a fast turn on his heels, she squealed again.

“If I wanted to play helicopter I’d let you know,” Jordan protested as her cheeks burned with the indignity of it all, and the sound of male laughter echoed in her ears.

“First the games — then the fun,” Harvey growled out as he stalked back towards his truck with her.

He loved the whole symbolism of carrying off his mate, and his bear appreciated it to.

Mine…