“Those?” Meghan started rummaging through Laurel’s sleepwear drawer. “What about this?” She held up a see-through, lace shorty nightie that Laurel loved.
“I’m not sleeping with him. And I’m not wearing that around him. And it’s for summer, not winter.”
“You’ll get hot. If I was sleeping with him, I’d get hot.” Ellie smiled.
“He’s bruised and skinned up. I’m not sleeping with him.”
“Oh.” Meghan pulled another pajama set out. “How about this one?”
Laurel grabbed it from her, shoved it in the drawer, shut it, and headed for the bathroom. “They’re waiting in the car for me, probably wondering why I’m taking so long. And you are not helping. CJ needs to rest so he can heal quicker.”
“He’ll heal quicker when you’re in his bed, guaranteed.” Meghan leaned against the bathroom doorjamb while Laurel grabbed some of her personal items, ignoring her sister’s comment.
“Even agreeing to stay with him probably cheered him tremendously.” Ellie moved out of the doorway to let Laurel leave.
Laurel jogged down the stairs, hoping her sisters wouldn’t follow her. She made a detour into the kitchen and grabbed the box of chocolate cake off the counter. She wasn’t certain it would lift CJ’s spirits, but if she were him and feeling like he was, the cake would definitely lift hers.
“You’re taking the chocolate cake?” Ellie said from the top of the stairs.
“We didn’t even get a piece of it yet,” Meghan teased.
Laurel knew they didn’t care or they would have gotten a piece already.
“Night!”
“Give him extra tender, loving care from us,” Meghan said.
“Pleasant dreams,” Ellie said.
Laurel shook her head at her sisters, then returned to Brett’s car. CJ was sound asleep, for which she was glad. She climbed in as quietly as she could, hoping that closing her door wouldn’t wake him. Brett just smiled at her and drove them to CJ’s house, located past a treed park and several walking trails. She thought how lovely it would be to run as a wolf there at night when everyone had gone to bed. She imagined that the park had been designed for wolves who lived close to town and still wanted a place to run.
When they arrived at CJ’s home, she thought how beautiful it was. French provincial style, fashionable, elegant, a big circular drive with a stand of birch trees in the center. She had thought his house might have had a simpler design. She loved it. And she couldn’t help thinking about living there—with him. She knew that was far-fetched, and yet a little thrill of excitement welled up in her at the thought. A real home. Roots. A pack. CJ. Yeah, she could see it.
As soon as Brett parked his car in the drive and shut off the engine, it was as if CJ’s wolf senses were awakened and he knew at once that he was home. He sat up, groaned a little, and then smiled to see her sitting in the front seat, as if he’d forgotten she was coming home with him.
Even though he objected to Brett helping him into the house while she carried in the cake and her bag, his brother reminded him, “I told Laurel you’d be on your best behavior while she stayed with you.”
She smiled at the brothers and unlocked the door. As they entered the house, the lights turned on immediately.
Brett told her the security code and where the alarm was located while he helped CJ in. She quickly disarmed it, then set the cake in the kitchen. It was all done in blue and white tile, and she loved the color scheme. Then she found Brett helping CJ to his bed in a large master bedroom suite, complete with private bath, wide-screen TV, and sitting area. She wondered what he watched in bed. She could envision seeing Christmas stories on the TV as she snuggled with him.
Everything in the room was decorated in forest greens and burgundies, making it look like a hunting lodge, very masculine and wolfish, yet really appealing to her nature too, probably owing to her wolfish side. It had a Victorian feel, not new age, and she loved that too.
“I’ll check on you both in the morning.” Brett patted her on the shoulder in a brotherly way. “Don’t let him give you a hard time.”
“I heard that,” CJ said, frowning at him.
“He’ll be fine.” Laurel walked Brett to the front door, said good night, then shut the door and locked it. She thought about getting CJ a slice of cake, but figured it was so late now that he’d probably rather just sleep. She had every intention of sleeping on the velour couch in his living room, if he didn’t have another furnished bedroom.
Tired, and ready to go to bed herself, Laurel returned to CJ’s bedroom. “Do you want me to remove your clothes?”
“Hell, yeah,” he said, and the growly expression immediately vanished. He held his arms out to her, his smile stretching from ear to ear.
“You’re hurting,” she said, drawing closer.
“Hell, one of the techs swabbed down all the insignificant scratches, just to look like he was doing something. I look great for getting a she-wolf’s sympathy, don’t I?”
She chuckled, loving his sense of humor, but then she frowned, unable to imagine him falling like that and surviving. “You could have been killed.”
“I wasn’t. I’m fine.” He let out his breath. “Thank you for staying with me tonight. Staying at the vet clinic wasn’t an option.”
She laughed and began untying his boots. “I would never have thought that an injured pack member would be taken to the vet clinic. What would they have done with you for the night? Put you in a cage?”
“No way. If I’d been injured that badly, Doc Mitchell would have transferred me to the human clinic. Doc Mitchell was called to come out since he’s more used to trudging through the woods. I was hurting at the time, so I didn’t want to shift in the cold and have to try to get dressed in a hurry.”
She sighed. “I really worried about you. Everyone was.”
“I’m sorry. I had no way to get ahold of you.”
“Darien and Lelandi kept me informed.”
“I’m glad. And Trevor was watching over things there.”
“Yeah.”
“I think more than a third of our pack members were out hunting for me. If any bunnies were around, they must have been quivering their little tails off.”
Smiling, she shook her head. “I’m glad the men found you okay.” She pulled off a boot and dumped it on the floor, and then the other. Once she’d slipped off his socks, she moved to unbutton his blue flannel shirt. He wasn’t wearing a sweater, but she supposed that was because he hadn’t wanted to wear anything else over his cuts and bruises.
When her fingers touched his top button, he wrapped his hands around hers. “No matter what we discover,” CJ said, his voice dark and serious, “I want you to stay here. With me, the pack. You and your sisters.”
She looked up at him. He was frowning at her, appearing a little anxious.
“Because of what we might discover about how our aunt disappeared?”
“Because I want you in my life.”
She took a deep breath and let it out. He was talking of mating with her? But she didn’t want to assume that’s what he was saying and make a fool of herself.
“What do you want, Laurel? Beyond learning what happened to your aunt? Do you always want to move to new locations and remodel old hotels? Do you feel that’s your calling? Or is it just something you love to do, but given a choice—like staying here with the pack, with me—you might consider just running the hotel and still be happy?”
“What if we learn your father was involved in my aunt’s disappearance?”
“Then he was involved. It won’t come between us.”
“What if it was someone else, someone close to you in the pack, and you felt resentful that we discovered the truth and upset everyone?”
“We can’t allow pack members to murder people without paying the price, no matter how long ago it happened or who they are or how well they’re liked. If it was due to extenuating circumstances—not saying that it was in your aunt’s case, but just an example, if someone was defending himself and fatally injured the one attacking him, then we would have to take that into consideration.” He ran his hands down her arms as she worked on his buttons again. “Did you find any secret compartments in the furniture that your aunt owned?”