body could use a rest after three days of intense lust. They kicked up when she drew near enough to smell Cross. The sea-breezy fresh notes of his scent had her tilting her head curiously.
“Where are you from? Here?”
“North. Vancouver.”
“You don’t sound Canadian.”
“Nope.” He stepped aside and waved her into the kitchen.
Behind her, the front door closed. Suddenly her sprawling farmhouse felt small and cramped. As Beck neared, her temperature rose. Under the pretense of cleaning up for the midnight meal, she ran cool water over her wrists and splashed her face.
As she did, something shimmered white on the edges of her vision.
Beck walked right up behind her. The hard line of his chest aligned with her spine. She ignored him and moved her head in the other direction.
If she held her chin just so, she saw it again. Transparent, ghostly white hands covering hers.
Her lashes fell to half-mast and those weren’t hands.
They were paws.
Anders can see her .
She sucked in a deep breath. “What makes Anders so special?”
Beck reached around her. He didn’t speak as he opened the hot water faucet and cleaned his hands with a dab of dish soap. January fought the desire coursing through her, begging her to lean back and accept his strength.
She steeled herself against falling into that trap again.
“He is wolf-born.” He inhaled as if he meant to go on, but didn’t say anything else as he shook the water from his hands and backed away from her.
January frowned at her reflection in the kitchen window. She hadn’t seen her own wolf in many years. Not since the foolishly trusting little girl she’d been had given the beautiful white wolf away. Her secret shame, and Beck knew the truth of it now.
“Dinner.” Cross’s reflection passed hers as he delivered steaks to the long, solid wood table that took up most of the kitchen’s floor space.
Two chairs scraped the linoleum and creaked under the weight of the two big men. January turned away from the window and joined them.
They ate in silence for several minutes, none of them shy with a knife and fork. One of the men had even produced a bottle of wine.
Halfway through her steak, January lifted her glass and sipped, savoring the complex bouquet.
“So.” She sat the glass back down.
Both Beck and Cross lowered their forks, both focused on her.
A curl of feminine power slid through her, at once glorious and unwanted. These were not men whose attention she should encourage but she couldn’t deny a certain part of her wanted to do just that.
“So,” she said again. “Anders is wolf-born. What else makes him special?”
“He’s my alpha second,” Beck answered after a beat.
She bit her lip, chewing on the tender flesh while she digested that revelation. “He doesn’t like me, does he? The angry one, right? That’s Anders?”
Cross retrieved his knife and cut a bite of meat. “He’s wolf-born.”
“You say that like it’s some kind of explanation.”
“It is.” Cross shrugged. “He has limited human experiences. Do you expect a wolf-born to have a handle on social manners?”
“I guess that’s fair.”
“His feelings for you are complicated,” Beck said.
January nodded and let the subject drop even though she wanted to know more. As she finished eating, Cross reached for the bottle of wine and started to refill her glass.
“Enough for me,” she said. “I wouldn’t want to fall asleep while the two of you are presenting dessert.”
Cross laughed. “Yes, ma’am. Should I start slicing the cake?”
She nodded without looking at him. No use refusing what they’d come to give her. As she cleared the table, one hunger sated, the other came alive. While they cleared the table, she slipped from the kitchen to grab condoms from her purse.
When she walked back into the kitchen, Cross took one look at the strip of condoms and shook his head. “You don’t need those. We brought our own.”
“Fine.” January
“Where are you from? Here?”
“North. Vancouver.”
“You don’t sound Canadian.”
“Nope.” He stepped aside and waved her into the kitchen.
Behind her, the front door closed. Suddenly her sprawling farmhouse felt small and cramped. As Beck neared, her temperature rose. Under the pretense of cleaning up for the midnight meal, she ran cool water over her wrists and splashed her face.
As she did, something shimmered white on the edges of her vision.
Beck walked right up behind her. The hard line of his chest aligned with her spine. She ignored him and moved her head in the other direction.
If she held her chin just so, she saw it again. Transparent, ghostly white hands covering hers.
Her lashes fell to half-mast and those weren’t hands.
They were paws.
Anders can see her .
She sucked in a deep breath. “What makes Anders so special?”
Beck reached around her. He didn’t speak as he opened the hot water faucet and cleaned his hands with a dab of dish soap. January fought the desire coursing through her, begging her to lean back and accept his strength.
She steeled herself against falling into that trap again.
“He is wolf-born.” He inhaled as if he meant to go on, but didn’t say anything else as he shook the water from his hands and backed away from her.
January frowned at her reflection in the kitchen window. She hadn’t seen her own wolf in many years. Not since the foolishly trusting little girl she’d been had given the beautiful white wolf away. Her secret shame, and Beck knew the truth of it now.
“Dinner.” Cross’s reflection passed hers as he delivered steaks to the long, solid wood table that took up most of the kitchen’s floor space.
Two chairs scraped the linoleum and creaked under the weight of the two big men. January turned away from the window and joined them.
They ate in silence for several minutes, none of them shy with a knife and fork. One of the men had even produced a bottle of wine.
Halfway through her steak, January lifted her glass and sipped, savoring the complex bouquet.
“So.” She sat the glass back down.
Both Beck and Cross lowered their forks, both focused on her.
A curl of feminine power slid through her, at once glorious and unwanted. These were not men whose attention she should encourage but she couldn’t deny a certain part of her wanted to do just that.
“So,” she said again. “Anders is wolf-born. What else makes him special?”
“He’s my alpha second,” Beck answered after a beat.
She bit her lip, chewing on the tender flesh while she digested that revelation. “He doesn’t like me, does he? The angry one, right? That’s Anders?”
Cross retrieved his knife and cut a bite of meat. “He’s wolf-born.”
“You say that like it’s some kind of explanation.”
“It is.” Cross shrugged. “He has limited human experiences. Do you expect a wolf-born to have a handle on social manners?”
“I guess that’s fair.”
“His feelings for you are complicated,” Beck said.
January nodded and let the subject drop even though she wanted to know more. As she finished eating, Cross reached for the bottle of wine and started to refill her glass.
“Enough for me,” she said. “I wouldn’t want to fall asleep while the two of you are presenting dessert.”
Cross laughed. “Yes, ma’am. Should I start slicing the cake?”
She nodded without looking at him. No use refusing what they’d come to give her. As she cleared the table, one hunger sated, the other came alive. While they cleared the table, she slipped from the kitchen to grab condoms from her purse.
When she walked back into the kitchen, Cross took one look at the strip of condoms and shook his head. “You don’t need those. We brought our own.”
“Fine.” January
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