After all his teasing, Trak stayed to do dishes after the meal. The party moved out to the deck, but Trak, Drew, and Manny took over the kitchen and ran everyone else out. Somehow, Chelo ended up sitting with Darnell and Evan. She wasn’t really sure how to talk to them, what to talk about.
She and Darnell had both arrived at Feral Passions on the same day, but their circumstances couldn’t have been more different. Evan was obviously courting Darnell, and the human had no idea she was surrounded by werewolves. It was actually sort of sweet, the fact that everyone was so careful not to let anything slip, while still making certain that Darnell didn’t feel as if she was at all different or excluded from anything.
Chelo understood the need for secrecy, the unspoken law that said you couldn’t divulge your shape-shifting abilities to any nonshifter. It was interesting, though, the way Cherry and some of the others had figured it out before they were turned. None of the women here had been bitten without full knowledge of what their men were and how their own lives were going to change.
So different from what had happened to her. They’d talked earlier, before Evan and Darnell had joined the group. A couple of the older men here had admitted that, while it had still been considered acceptable when they were first old enough to hunt for a mate—to kidnap a woman and turn her without her permission—none of the men here had ever considered it.
Hence the resort. She’d laughed when Trak explained the reason they’d built Feral Passions, that it was essentially a hunting ground for the men of the pack who were desperate for mates. Only Evan and Trak were unmated after what sounded like a very successful summer.
Maybe they were waiting for that one perfect woman. She’d always heard it was a myth, but some of the newly mated guys here had been really open about their feelings, that the women they’d found were fated to be their mates—and the women agreed.
It made her wonder.
Was that actually something that the packs had neglected to search for over the years, a woman for each male, destined to be mated? Was it merely ignorance that had led Jorge and Rube to the small farm she shared with her husband?
She’d never know. Just as she’d never know whether she and Trak were meant to be together. She wasn’t staying long enough to find out.
Darnell glanced up from her drink—something frothy and pink that actually looked more like a dessert than a cocktail—and smiled at Chelo.
“I’m not sure if anyone’s said anything to you,” she said, running her fingertip through the pink froth and licking it clean, “but I’m supposed to do hair and makeup for Meg and the bridesmaids. Can you describe the flowers so I’ll know how to work with them?”
And, just as easy as that, Chelo found common ground with Darnell. Before long, they had a sketch pad and ideas for the flowers that would work in hair and as bouquets and Chelo shoved Rube and his disgusting friends totally out of her head.
* * *
Trak stood in the shadows below the deck and listened to Chelo and Darnell laughing about different fiascos in their line of work. It appeared that flower-fails and makeup-fails were equally disastrous, no matter the situation. The other women had gathered around and were laughing right along with them.
So was Trak. He’d never had the chance to observe Chelo around other people, not like this, where she was relaxed and enjoying herself and apparently not thinking about that bastard who was somewhere out there, stalking her. At least she was safe, here. With her surrounded by pack, there was no way Rube could get to her.
There’d been no sign of Rube and his guys tonight. After finishing up in the kitchen, Manny and Drew had taken off for an evening run with Jules with plans to check the perimeter areas that had road access. Brad, Cain, and Cherry had gone off in the opposite direction, and all of them had worn pouches for their phones.
Trak had gone down to close up the bar and while he was at Growl had received calls from both teams that all was quiet and there were no scents of rogue wolves. It was late and he knew Chelo had to be tired. He certainly was, but then stress had a way of doing that to a man. He walked up the steps and took an empty seat at their table.
“We could hear you laughing all the way down at Growl.”
“Growl?” Darnell gave him the stink eye. “Last time I saw you, you were elbows deep in dishwater. In there.” She pointed toward the kitchen in the lodge and flashed him a cheeky grin. “It’s a really good look on you. I was impressed.”
“Thank you.” He glanced at Chelo, loving the big smile on her face. “I think.” He looked over Darnell’s head at Evan, Lawz, and Darian sitting at the next table. “Your woman is picking on me. Have you no control, man?”
Evan got up and stood behind Darnell. “I thought she was sounding a little cheeky.” He leaned over and kissed her. Then he grabbed her around the waist, lifted her out of her chair, and slung her over his shoulder. “Sorry about that, boss. I’ll deal with it.”
“See that you do!” Trak shouted as Evan trotted down the steps with Darnell squirming against his shoulder, laughing and pounding on his back.
After they were gone, Trak leaned over and kissed Chelo. “I’m exhausted. I’m sure Lawz and Darnell will walk you back if you’re not ready to go. Their cabin’s not far from mine, or are you ready to leave?”
She huffed out a breath, but her eyes were definitely twinkling. “Well, since you ran off the woman I was talking to, guess I might as well go with you.” She got up and grabbed the glasses off the table. Trak held the door for her and she carried them inside and set them on the kitchen counter. “Should I rinse them out?”
“I’ll stick them in the dishwasher. Brad can run it in the morning.” It only took Trak a minute and the mess was cleared. By the time he and Chelo walked back out to the deck, the others were cleaning up their things as well.
It was a beautiful night. A bat squeaked overhead and the grass rustled as some small critter scurried away, but the wind had died down and it was calm and quiet. Hopefully not the calm before the storm. Trak held tightly to Chelo’s hand, but knowing that Rube and his guys were out and about—and aware of where Chelo was staying—meant he couldn’t relax. Not until they’d been dealt with.
“Did you have a good time tonight? I hope you didn’t feel abandoned, but it sounded like you and Darnell hit it off really well.”
She laughed. “We did. I was wondering how easy it would be to talk with her and not give anything away about what we are, but she’s just so funny and easy to talk to. And Trak, she is so in love with Evan. Why hasn’t he told her?”
Trak couldn’t meet her eyes. Instead, he shrugged as if it were no big deal. “Timing isn’t quite right,” he said. “Not with the wedding and all. We’re still not comfortable talking about who and what we are until it’s time to turn our mate. It was different with the other women—they’d all pretty much had us figured out, but Darnell doesn’t seem to have a clue. I think Evan’s worried that she’ll be disgusted by the idea of him shifting. He wants to tell her first, but then he wants to turn her as soon as he can after that.” He laughed. “I don’t think he wants to give her too much time to think about it, but with the wedding coming up and the time frame between the bite and waking as a wolf, it’s just cutting it too close.”
He couldn’t tell her the whole truth, that the threat of Rube and his guys made it dangerous for Darnell to be in that deep sleep in case they were attacked, which meant Evan would have to wait until after they’d figured out how to stop Rube. It was a waiting game that the Trinity Alps wolves fully intended to win, but none of them were willing to take the chance that if something went wrong and Darnell was in that deep sleep she’d be helpless.
Chelo, however, wasn’t stupid. She stopped when they reached the meadow in front of Trak’s cabin and took both his hands. “You’re worried that Rube might somehow get in here, that he could hurt her while she’s changing, unable to awaken. It’s all on me, Trak. I’ve brought this on your pack. I am so sorry. Look, as soon as I do the flowers, I’m going to leave. I can’t stay, knowing that he’ll be haunting your people until—”
“Stop.” He hadn’t meant to pull on his alpha strength, but when Chelo’s eyes went wide he knew he’d screwed up. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to coerce you, and I didn’t mean to do that.”
“Do what? You’re the alpha, Trak. You’re doing what you’re supposed to do. You’re protecting your pack. I’m the source of the danger facing you right now. You have every right to pull rank on me. Every right to want me gone.”
He barked out a harsh laugh. “You think that’s what the little power play was all about? That I want you to leave? You’re wrong, Chelo. So fucking wrong.” He planted his hands on her shoulders. She had to tilt her head to look up at him, and he didn’t want to use his height to intimidate her. Though looking at the fire in her eyes, Trak knew she wasn’t the least bit afraid of him. She’d been through hell. He was nothing.
“About what?” she said, meeting his eyes without hesitation. She was just so damned perfect for him. “About the threat? About the fact that since I showed up you’ve had nothing but trouble, all of it related to me? Tell me how I’m wrong.”
The quiver in her voice told him the truth, that she wasn’t as strong as she wanted him to think, that she might not be afraid of him, but she was scared to death of what was going on, and that she had absolutely no idea how he felt about her.
He knew all too well what he felt, that she was his. Chelo just didn’t know it yet because he hadn’t told her. Maybe it was time to man up and be honest with the woman who already owned his heart. He sucked in a deep breath, let it out slowly, concentrated on stilling his thundering heart. “Chelo, I want Rube and his crew of jerks gone. Dead, preferably, but gone in any manner we can find that works, but I want him gone so you won’t have that threat hanging over your head. I want time with you without worry, time when we can get to know each other, when hopefully you’ll one day see me as someone you can trust.”
She frowned. He tightened his fingers on her shoulders. “I’m a guy who wants you in his life. Forever, Chelo. I don’t want you to leave.” He took another breath, wondered if she had any idea what was in his mind. In his heart. He leaned close, pressed his forehead to hers. “Chelo, my heart will fucking break if you leave. Please. Don’t go.”
* * *
Not even Henri, on the day he proposed, had affected her so deeply. Trak was everything she could ever want in a male. He was strong and kind, loving and powerful. He cared for his pack and they cared for him. He’d created a utopia here in the mountains of Northern California, a place where people like her had become members of the local community while still maintaining their secret, their strength, their autonomy as a pack.
She knew he liked her, but she’d had no idea how much he really felt. Here, now, she was seeing a strong man with so much sensitivity, so willing to bare his emotions without any promise of her response that it made her heart ache. She so wanted to be free to go to him, but until Rube was gone, until …
She cupped his cheek with her palm. “You are everything I want in a man, Trak. But until I can deal with Rube, we can never relax. He is a threat to your entire pack. He’s vicious and crazy and the men with him aren’t much better.”
Trak wrapped his arms around her and she pressed her face against his chest. He was so much bigger than she was. So much stronger. He made her feel safe, though she knew it was a fantasy more than reality. She would never be safe while Rube lived.
“Let’s go in. It’s late. We’ll be able to think better, plan better, after a good night’s sleep.”
She nodded against his chest and they went into the cabin. Chelo walked slowly up the stairs, thinking of Trak, of his patience and his concern. She knew he wanted her, figured it was more than just sex for him, but she’d never made love with another shifter. Jorge and Rube were the only two male shifters she’d had sex with, and it was never by choice, never anything more than rape.
The women here were so happy with their men. Sex with Henri had merely been fast and messy, and then she’d been pregnant and throwing up. There had to be something more. She wished she’d asked Darnell. She was so open and funny, she probably would have had Chelo laughing about an act that terrified her.
But Trak? There was nothing mean or hateful about him at all. She paused at the top of the stairs and glanced over the railing. He stood below her in the center of the room, and there was such a look of need in his eyes. She licked her lips, tried to moisten the inside of her mouth.
“Trak? Would you sleep up here tonight? In your room?”
“Are you sure? I don’t want you to be afraid.”
That she could smile about. “I don’t think I can be afraid of you. Even when you pull your alpha stuff.” She shrugged. “I want to be with you. I guess…” She let out a long sigh. “I guess I want to know what it is that makes the women here so happy with their men. I don’t know what that’s like, and you…” This was so awkward, she almost laughed. “You know a lot more about pleasing a woman than I do about being pleased, if that makes sense.”
“Perfectly.” He walked over to the front door, checked to make sure it was locked, and turned off the lights downstairs. Then he walked up the stairs and met her at the top. “My room’s right down there. Why don’t you let me show you what it’s like?”
“The room?” She opened her eyes wide and figured that if she pretended this was fun it just might be. “I’m guessing it’s like a regular bedroom.”
“Not really. It will be totally different once you step through the door. You see, there’s never been a woman inside. Not ever. I think you’re exactly what it’s been missing.”
* * *
He sensed her fear, like a third party in the room, hovering now beside her but not coming between them. Not yet. He hadn’t expected this tonight, had hoped to have a more romantic setting, but he didn’t want to miss this unexpected chance to, he hoped, break down a few barriers.
She’d never known love, at least not since her very brief marriage a lifetime ago. Was he the man who could teach her, show her that not every male was a beast? She’d called Rube and Jorge monsters. From her description of them, she’d been right. Worse than monsters, because they’d treated her unmercifully with the full knowledge of what they were doing, how they were hurting her.
She and Trak walked together down the hallway to his room. He’d hardly been in here since she’d arrived, beyond grabbing a change of clothes when needed. He opened the door, flipped on the light, and stepped back. Chelo walked into the room and stopped. She stood there with her hands clasped at her waist, slowly turning from one side of the room to the other.
The sense of fear seemed to dissipate, the longer she stood here. It really was a beautiful room and he was proud of the way it had turned out. The cedar logs glowed like warm honey beneath the dim lighting. Bits of dried pitch in the wood caught the light and sparkled—golden diamonds decorating the peeled logs. He’d built every piece of furniture himself, all handcrafted from local hardwoods, except for the headboard. He’d made it of pine, carved to look like the mountains that he saw out his front window every morning. There was a thick down comforter covered in dark forest green, and a hand-crocheted afghan folded over the foot of the bed. The afghan was the oldest item in the house, something his grandmother had made back in the 1700s. He’d carried it out west when he and Lawz first made their move.
A long time ago.
He had one of Tuck’s wolf paintings over the bed, a scene of each of the male wolves in the pack running through the winter meadow behind the lodge when snow covered the ground and bent the branches of trees in the background. The sky overhead was tinged with the colors of dawn and the rising sun. Tuck’s art really held a magic all its own.
He realized Chelo’s gaze had stopped at the bed. He stood behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders. “Nothing has to happen until you’re ready. Why don’t you just come to bed with me and we’ll sleep. I won’t touch you unless you want me to.”
She turned and he dropped his hands. “You would do that? I know you’ve been aroused a lot of the time, but you’ve never acted on it. Is it fair to you, for me to sleep beside you and not allow you to touch me?”
He laughed, even if the sound was a bit strained. “Probably not in the man’s book of rules, but I only want to do what you’re ready for. There’s no need to push.”
She nodded. “Then yes. I would like very much to sleep with you tonight.”
He leaned close and kissed her. “I need to get a shower. How about I meet you in here after you’ve had time to get ready for bed?”
She nodded. And then she quietly slipped out of his room and headed down the hall to hers.