It wasn’t hard to imagine what her friend was thinking about. Chloe was obviously smitten with Jackson, watching him from the corner of her eye, allowing her fingers to linger on his arm as she told him she was packing a few things and would hurry back.
An image of another man—one who’d tossed her inside a room and left her breathless—flashed before Rachel’s eyes. All muscles, tattoos and attitude. With eyes captivating and shiny as gold. A warm tingle erupted in her stomach and goose bumps scattered over her skin. For a moment she’d considered sticking around, if only to see what no-name-tattoo-artist would do. Then it had hit her she was flirting with something dangerous enough to shatter her bones and snuff out her lights.
Slamming back to the present, she brushed off the intrusive sensations. The man—while good-looking and yummy as sin—had essentially threatened her if she didn’t do as he said. Climbing out the window was possibly the smartest decision she’d ever made. She depended on herself to get shit done. Relying on someone else was just asking for trouble.
“You’re sure?”
Chloe nodded. “Gramps confirmed things this morning.”
“That would explain your attraction to all things kooky,” Rachel said, glancing at her friend. Humor had always gotten them through rough patches in the past. Hopefully playful teasing would overcome the tension in the room.
“Jackson isn’t kooky.”
No, he wasn’t, but she wasn’t letting Chloe off that easy.
Time to break the ice. “Says the woman sleeping with him. I’m still on the fence.”
“You’re on the fence about everything.” Her friend’s eyes warmed, amusement visible in the pools of green. “Maybe you should go out and find a werewolf. It might change your life.”
Even though she knew the comment was meant as a joke, a spike of panic made her heart skip a beat. For the second time she pictured the man from the tattoo shop, shivering when she recalled how he’d looked at her. His gaze alone had made her nipples ache and her pussy clench. He wasn’t one to fool around. He’d take what he wanted, when he wanted it. And he wouldn’t ask.
Recovering before she roused her friend’s suspicion, she returned her hands to her hips. “Thanks for the offer but I’ll stick to plastic and batteries when it comes to my sexual needs.”
“So you’re not upset?”
Rachel froze caught off guard when reality reached out and slapped her in the face. Oh God. Chloe actually thought she’d think less of her because of what her father was. That she might not view her in the same way once she found out the truth. Why hadn’t she noticed? What in the hell was wrong with her?
A six-foot-plus man with tattoos and an ego the size of Everest. That’s what.
“Hell no,” she answered and took a step toward the one friend she’d always counted on, the only person she truly trusted. “Friends forever, remember?”
“Even if I’m not who you thought?” Chloe asked quietly. “I’m not human, Rach. I might become one of the things that freak you out.”
Crap.
True, she’d never liked anything paranormal, but this was Chloe.
“Not possible.” Not in a million years. They’d been through too much—had shared too much—to destroy the bond between them. “I don’t care what you are. You’re still you. That much hasn’t changed.”
“I hope so,” she whispered, sounding lost. “Everything’s happened so fast. Yesterday I thought I knew who I was. I’m so confused.”
Crossing the distance, Rachel took her friend into her arms. Chloe sagged against her, holding her so tight it was hard to breathe. Rachel didn’t complain. Over the years they’d taken turns being strong for each other. It was obvious it was her turn to bear the weight, to offer a shoulder to lean on.
“It’s going to be okay,” she murmured, stroking a hand over her friend’s curly hair. “It’s like your grandma says. When one door closes another one opens.”
“Do you really believe that?”
Since she wasn’t sure how to respond, she didn’t say anything. Instead she played the role of the rock, anchoring the fragile young woman to solid ground. Friends forever. Just as they’d vowed on the elementary school playground when they were six years old and faced their first bully together.
Chloe was home and she was safe. To hell with the rest. They would deal with obstacles in their path as they came to them—just like they always did. Nothing could come between them. Rachel wouldn’t allow it.
At the present moment, nothing else mattered.
Chapter Seven
Jackson led Chloe inside the small cabin he used when he needed time alone, relaxing as he entered the space. He waited until she stepped past the threshold to close the door, gauging her movements, scenting a hint of nervousness. She studied her surroundings, turning slowly as her gaze swept over the space. The living room connected to the kitchen, the bedroom and bathroom nestled upstairs.
It wasn’t much, although he’d never intended it to be. He visited the cabin when he needed a break from his responsibilities. The moment he’d viewed the property, he’d known he had to have it.
Aside from Declan, no one knew about the place.
When Chloe gave a soft sneeze he immediately wished he’d taken the time to air out the cabin during the summer. Usually he visited when the weather was warm, keeping the back door that led to the wraparound porch open so he could shift at his leisure and explore the ten-acre spread. To his dismay, he realized the tension between neighboring packs hadn’t allowed him to do much of anything. He’d only visited the cabin twice in the past year. His life revolved around the wolves who turned to him for guidance. They were his primary focus.
Until now.
“Let me take that,” he said and reached for the bag gripped in his female’s fist.
The trip to the cabin had been quiet—too quiet. Ever since Chloe had come downstairs with her clearly disapproving friend—who’d given him the glare of death—she hadn’t had much to say. He knew she was trying to cope with the things she’d learned, as well as accept what he was certain were foreign feelings stirring to life inside her.
Their interaction had been strained, the comfortable nearness they’d shared in Fletcher’s office replaced by nerves. His mate allowed his touch even as she glanced at her grandparents and friend for reassurance and acceptance. Since their approval meant so much to her, he’d gone out of his way to be courteous. He was on his best behavior, promising to care for Chloe, ease her into her transition and bring her back after the weekend.
Now that he was alone with his mate, it was time to live up to his word.
She didn’t argue as he slid the bag from her fingers. He carried the duffel to the table near the kitchen and rested it on the top. When he heard the stairs creak he glanced over his shoulder. Chloe had decided to investigate, carefully making her way upstairs. She looked good enough to eat in a snug pair of jeans and a white camisole visible beneath the thin sweater she’d tossed on, her cozy brown leather jacket hugging her curves. He wanted to bury his fingers in her curls, whisper his desires in her ear. Keeping a distance had almost killed him, his fingers itching to touch her.
“We’ll have to change the linens.” He wasn’t sure why he’d stated the obvious. Maybe it was due to his quickly swelling cock. The engorged organ ached for the haven of her body.
“Where are they?” she asked, peering over the railing. “I can do it.”
Damn.
The sound of her voice crept over his body, settling in his ears. He had to draw a deep breath, trying to keep his lust in check. Tonight he’d be able sate his needs. When the moon rose it would send his sweet little mate into the mating heat, preparing her for the full moon that would arrive the next day. If he was lucky he could strengthen their bond tonight. They’d need an established connection to make her shift easier, so that the pain and alarm she felt were minimal.