Sam called my cell the following weekend. I’d expected to hear from him much sooner. He surprised me by asking if I’d come back to the Compound over the long holiday weekend. I hedged. Did he want me to return so he could arrange another Introduction?
When I didn’t give a definitive answer, he launched into a long speech about how he knew he’d disappointed me and how he really did worry about me, not just the pack. I tried to be understanding but didn’t bend much.
Finally, he came right out and asked what had happened to me during the last visit. I answered vaguely, claiming ignorance. Werewolves couldn’t recognize lies as well over the phone. A long moment of silence passed. When he spoke, he didn’t comment on my answer but again asked that I consider coming home over holiday break. I knew he meant the Compound and told him I’d think about it.
After that, he continued to call me daily just to talk. Most of our brief conversations touched on weather, school, or investments. Anything pack related stayed off limits. I could tell he was concerned, but trust, once lost, took longer to earn back. I wouldn’t tell him any of my suspicions until I could confirm some of them.
For the next few weeks, the challenges stopped, and I pushed the pack, strange colored sparks, and my pull from my head. Instead, I focused on my studies.
Clay worked at Dale’s while I stayed on campus. I hadn’t given up trying to figure out why he’d picked Dale to be his employer. However, whenever I asked, he responded with a shrug. I never asked him if he followed me to school as Luke had suggested. Some things I preferred to remain a mystery.
I thought Clay’s expectations would change after our kiss, but he never pushed for more. He continued to stay in his fur most of the time, except for Tuesday nights when he had dinner waiting for me. I looked forward to our nights together and not just because he cooked exceptionally well.
Rachel knew I was spending more time with him, and on one of our quiet nights together, she asked about Clay-the-man while Clay-the-dog lay curled on the floor next to me.
“You are so weird about him. What is it about the guy that keeps you coming back?” She sat on the couch, folding her summer clothes and packing them into a tote.
Smiling slightly, I turned the page of the book in my lap before I answered.
“You don’t know him like I do.”
“How can you know him at all when you two don’t talk?”
“You don’t need to talk to get to know someone. You just need to listen,” I said absently, trying to concentrate on my reading. My words rattled in my head for a moment before what I said clicked into place. I froze and looked at Clay. His brown eyes met mine steadily.
Damn the patient, clever dog. A smile twitched my lips. I never had a chance...and I didn’t mind.
“But that’s what I’m saying. He doesn’t talk. What are you listening to?”
I laughed at her and myself. “Actions speak louder than words,” I quoted, finally looking up at Rachel. “He’s there when I need him, he’s kind and caring, he keeps me safe, and as you’ve seen, he cooks and cleans. What’s not to like, Rachel?”
She grumbled under her breath but didn’t have anything else to add.
Clay walked over to her and lay on some of her dresses, ending her mutterings that I should get out and meet other people. She laughed at him then tried to move him. He laid his head on his paws and winked at me. He wasn’t mad but enjoyed giving Rachel some grief.
Shaking my head, I went to the fridge and left Rachel to tug her dresses out from under his bulk on her own. In the fridge, I saw a new carton of orange juice along with a double-chocolate cake. Two layers of chocolate frosted goodness. My mouth watered. I usually ignored the food Rachel bought, but that one begged my attention.
“Can I have a piece of your cake?”
“I thought it was yours. It was here when I got home,” she called back.
I stood staring at the cake a long time. How could I be so blind? He’d shrugged when I’d asked why he’d gotten his job, but the answer, wrapped in layers of sinful chocolate mousse frosting, sat before my eyes.
Thinking back, I identified several of the little things I’d previously overlooked. Things I’d assumed Rachel had purchased, like movies I’d mentioned I wanted to see. He’d gotten his job for me because of my speech the day after we’d met. My heart melted a little as I thought of all the effort he’d put into trying to be what I needed, and I knew I fought a losing battle.
The air grew colder and snow started to fall the week before Thanksgiving. The wind howled outside, still finding a way past the new windows. Despite the low-set thermostat, the heat kicked in often, and I worried about the bill. Even with Clay warming my feet, I’d added another quilt to the bed.
Broke and out of quilts, I lay under the covers, shivering. I wore two pairs of lounge pants, a t-shirt, and a sweatshirt. If I could just fall asleep, I knew I’d warm eventually. During the night, I usually stripped to one layer. But warming the bed took forever...on my own.
“Screw this,” I said, sitting up. I started pulling off my sweatshirt. The streetlight filtered through the curtains, so I could make out the shapes in my room. I tossed the sweatshirt toward the closet.
Clay lifted his head, tilting it just so.
I ignored him for the moment and shimmied out of my second layer of pants while trying to stay under the covers. The pants soared through the air and landed next to the shirt.
“Clay, will you keep me warm tonight?” I’d barely whispered the words when he jumped off the bed.
A moment later, he pulled back the covers and joined me. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me to his chest. Bare chest. I sighed, pressed my face against his skin, warming my cold nose, and wrapped my free arm around his waist. Then, I tucked my feet under his calves. He grunted slightly but didn’t loosen his hold.
“No more fur at night. Deal?”
The blankets and his chest muffled my voice, but I knew he heard me. He kissed the top of my head, the only part exposed. I smiled, figuring it meant yes.
The next morning my cell phone rang, waking me. Still wrapped in Clay’s warmth, I didn’t move right away. He reached over me, plucked it from the bedpost, and handed it to me. Only Sam and Rachel had my number.
I could hear movement in the house and looked at the display, expecting Sam’s number. Instead, it was one I didn’t recognize.
I answered with a questioning, “Hello?”
“Gabby, I found her, but...”
“Luke?” I hadn’t heard from him since we’d left the Compound.
“Yes. I understand you think she’s important, but she’s not even eighteen. How am I supposed to get her to come with me?”
I sat up excitedly and knocked back the covers in the process, exposing both Clay and me to the cool air. Clay grunted a complaint.
“I can’t believe you actually found her! I need to talk to her. If she’s like me, which I think she is, you had better bring her to the Compound. I hate to admit it, but the Elders need to know.”
“Fine. You better be there when we get there,” he said with an edge. The line went dead.
I pulled the phone from my ear to look at it, puzzled. Luke never had an edge. Slowly, I grinned. Had I been right? Was he now dealing with his potential Mate? Smiling hugely, I hoped she gave Mr. Confident a little hell.
Chapter 18
With the freeze came the night Rachel thawed toward Clay-the-man.
A heavy snow started to fall just as Clay and I went to bed. His arm curled around my waist, and my head rested on his shoulder. Asking him to sleep beside me was the best decision I ever made, and it made me finally understand that I determined the pace of our relationship. He had waited patiently for me to invite him in and would wait patiently for the next step, whatever I decided that would be.