His expression, when she glanced over, was one of forbearance. “Of course, you’re important. You’re my mother, who taught me everything I know, including my manners. I’m being rude to my friend.”
She stiffened. Friend? She wouldn’t have called them that, but then again, it had been a pleasant afternoon and early evening.
“A female friend if you must know.” A pause. “No, she’s not my girlfriend.” He glanced at her as he said it, winked and mouthed, Yet.
She blushed and hoped she turned quick enough he didn’t see.
He kept talking. “I haven’t told you about her because we just met. If you must know, her name is Rilee.” A reply a la Charlie Brown before he held the phone away from his ear and said, “Mamma says hi.”
It didn’t sound that way, but Rilee managed a weak, “Um, hello right back?”
He went back to talking to his mother. Yes, he’d gotten the care package. No, he didn’t need more socks and underwear. Yes, he was taking his vitamins. And could he please call her later?
There were some more whan-whan-whan sounds from the phone. He rolled his eyes heavenward before saying, “I love you, Mamma. Everything is fine. I’ll call you in the morning.”
After reassuring his mother he loved her forever, he hung up and offered a sheepish grin. “Sorry about that.”
Whereas she could only shake her head. “Dude, that can’t be healthy.”
“She loves me.”
Which was something Rilee couldn’t comprehend. Even before she’d been shuffled into the foster care system, she’d not exactly had the best home life. Her mother discovered drugs when Rilee was young. By the time she was sixteen, she’d spent more times in government-sponsored care than with her parent. She never knew her dad.
“Your mother’s love seems like a lot of work,” she observed
“Some things are worth the effort. Let me help with the dishes.”
She almost said no, fearful of the proximity, and yet as during the dinner-making, he was a perfect gentleman, not once even brushing a fingertip against her.
The fact she kept waiting for it to happen left her taut with tension. When the last dish was dried and put away, she fidgeted. She only had one comfortable chair. It would only fit two if one of them sat on the other. Not happening, which left the kitchen table again or her bed.
He grabbed his jacket and put it on before shoving his feet into his boots. “Thanks for having dinner with me.”
Wait, was that it? He was just going to leave?
“It was delicious,” she ventured, her hand dropping to her side, ready to grab her gun if needed. She had it leaning close by.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it. Next time, maybe I’ll see if I can wrangle the stuff needed to make fettuccine carbonara.”
“Isn’t that the one with bacon? I love bacon.” Her tone lilted.
“I’ll give you anything you want, bella,” was his gravelly reply.
“That supper made me sleepy. Time for me to hit the sack.” Not entirely true. She wasn’t tired one bit. She tingled from head to toe.
Could he sense it? He stared at her hard and long enough she thought for sure he’d kiss her. Readied herself to say no for when he tried.
“Good night, bella.” He left without making a move, and she went to bed disappointed.
Aching.
Wondering if she’d see him again. If she did, would she have the courage to steal a kiss?
Chapter 7
Mateo made himself leave in spite of the interest he scented. He walked away even though he wanted to stay.
He was barely out of sight of her cottage and he couldn’t wait to see her again.
It was madness. One person shouldn’t be able to consume his thoughts, and yet in a short time, she had. He couldn’t have defined exactly what made her different than the rest.
Beauty scratched only the surface of it. He sensed a toughness that covered a vulnerability. The way she’d overcome adversity showed her courage and her unwillingness to give up. When he drew a smile, it was because he’d earned it. She didn’t flirt outrageously or compliment him nonstop. She didn’t do any of the things women usually did to get in his bed.
Heck, half the time, he wondered if she even perceived him in that way. He sure as hell saw her that way. Even now, as he leaned against the tree, if he closed his eyes, he could picture her, the soft lighting of the candles bathing her face in a gentle warmth, bringing out the flecks in her eyes. But it was her scent that truly stuck with him. A hint of the woods and a musk that was hers alone, teasing of arousal.
He’d wanted to kiss her before he left. Didn’t dare. It was too soon. Wasn’t it?
Given her skittish nature, he couldn’t assume she’d welcome a kiss. How was a man supposed to ask a woman without ruining the moment?
What if she said no?
What if she said yes?
He hardened at the thought. It didn’t take actually touching to know the chemistry would be there, explosive and heated. Once they started, it would end in passionate lovemaking. He’d kiss every inch of her. Worship and show her that he was a person she could trust with her life.
They could live happily ever after—
In a little shack in the middle of the woods.
He grimaced. While he liked the tranquility of it, he wasn’t sure he saw himself being a hermit the rest of his life. But he also doubted she’d ever agree to leave. Meaning what?
Nothing, because he was getting way ahead of himself. She’d tolerated him for a few hours, which only meant he’d taken a step in the right direction. He still had his work cut out getting her to trust him. It would take a lot more than one pot of pasta to make her fall in love. Good thing his banishment gave him time to devote to wooing her.
A reprieve that ended the next day when his boss called—his real boss, Terrence, not the town alpha. “Good thing we moved you into place when we did.”
A reminder that he hadn’t ended up here by accident. Yes, he’d been caught on camera. Yes, he needed to lie low, and what better cover than to be sent with a plausible excuse to a place of interest?
Kodiak Point had a problem. Mainly, someone had recently taken an interest in the town and made inquiries on the dark web. Asked questions that set off all kinds of alarms with the council—those who watched over shifters.
“What’s up, boss?” he asked, stepping outside of his motel room. There were fifteen rooms in total, each furnished with a bed, desk with chair, a small three-piece bathroom, a microwave, and mini fridge. The perfect bachelor pad. No wonder his mother worried.
“Target group is on the move and headed for an established camp about one hundred and forty-five clicks east of town.”
The target group consisted of hunters, which they strongly suspected of poaching, but not your jungle-variety kind of animals. These poachers only went after a specific kind of prey—shifters—and had thus far done an excellent job with masking their identity. But even on the dark web, trails could be followed. “How many in the group?”
“A lot,” was his boss’s grim reply. “Seventeen by our count.”
He let out a low whistle as he surveyed the sleepy town. “Do we know for sure they’re hunting the town’s residents?”