Unraveling Midnight (13 page)

“I think this is really silly, but since you’re insisting on being weird, I like the kind with graham crackers.”

Progress. Sweet, sweet progress. Scott put the box of bran something back on the shelf and took down a big box of the cereal she preferred. “This one?”

“Yes, I like that one,” she said. “I can even use it to make bars. They are the only thing in my recipe collection anywhere near edible.”

“Then I’ll get two.”

She helped him pick out several other kinds of breakfast goodies but before they headed to the next aisle, she blocked his cart with hers. The store was relatively quiet, the lull before the post-workday shopping storm Scott’s favorite time to shop. Lucy’s eyes narrowed and though she didn’t smell angry or suspicious, she sure looked at least the latter.

“I know what you’re doing.”

He wasn’t busted yet. “Oh? What’s that?”

“You’re trying to butter me up for all the mate stuff,” she said. “I’m only telling you this once—I don’t need the special handling or whatever this is. I want you to treat me now like you plan to treat me in ten years if we’re still together. Dating was always a turn-off for me because I always felt like the other person was wearing a mask of some kind—putting on a front until they got to know me better. I don’t do that and I don’t want you to either, Scott.”

She had thought about dating, just hadn’t liked it. Which meant her spending time with him was doubly special. They had something, he knew it, she knew it and now they had to line up all their shared knowledge into something worth being too overcome with passion to discuss rationally.

A woman turned the corner in front of them, forcing Lucy and Scott to move their carts. Not any woman, Scott noticed immediately, a shewolf. The female perked up at the sight and scent of him and though Scott hoped she’d keep walking, he knew that wasn’t the werewolf way. She sauntered closer, the intense sexuality of an unmated female something she couldn’t tamp down and this one didn’t even try.

Where a human would have hurried by with her shopping list in mind, the shewolf stopped in front of Scott, separating him from Lucy. She at least attempted to look casual, reaching for a box of granola bars behind him to catch a better scent. Scott saw the look on Lucy’s face and she was far from impressed.

Good.

“Excuse me?” Lucy demanded, not nearly the retiring flower Scott saw most days. “We’re having a conversation here. If you want to get something, we’ll move, but you need to back away from my boyfriend right now.”

Boyfriend.
The day just kept getting better.

The shewolf rolled her eyes so Scott could see. He made it very clear he had no interest in walking away from his human in favor of a quick screw with a wolf, even if she was good-looking.

“Fine.” The shewolf shrugged, but winked at the last moment, a continued invitation should he choose to indulge.

The East Coast had some bloodline problems and was always looking for new wolves. It was part of the reason Chris Meyters hadn’t booted him from the area. Finding someone who smelled right was something most single wolves strived for and he couldn’t exactly blame her for the lingering offer. He wouldn’t fault her, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to follow her either.

“She’s a werewolf, isn’t she?”

Scott froze and, though the shewolf was halfway down aisle, she too stopped in her tracks. Not wanting to indulge in a bitchfight in the cereal aisle where humans milled nearby, Scott hustled Lucy out of sight from the shewolf.

“Ah, yeah, she’s a werewolf,” Scott confirmed, keeping his voice low. “What tipped you off?”

Lucy shot an ugly look toward the aisle they’d come from. “I don’t know. Something about her just…and what a slut. Are all werewolf women sluts? Because that one is a slut and needs to be smacked.”

Scott grabbed pudding cups and fruit snacks quickly, hoping to put as much distance between Lucy and the werewolf as possible. He didn’t think the female would attack in a grocery store, but he wasn’t willing to bet on it. And the slut stuff, where was that coming from? Usually his Lucy had the sweetest mouth on her. Now she looked absolutely pissed and though he was flattered, he figured he had to be missing something.

“Maybe go easy on the slut stuff, honey. She wasn’t being forward or anything as far as Weres go. Weres and humans don’t usually hook up, so she might have assumed we were friends or something.”

“Oh, so you’re saying Jessie wasn’t right about us already smelling like mates?” Lucy demanded, maybe too firmly.

Then it hit him: she was worried and instead of retreating this time like she usually did, letting worry fester, she’d gone on the offensive. It was pretty awesome that she’d chosen to fight for him, but in regard to his fidelity, he didn’t want her to worry—not ever. He abandoned his cart beside the soup mixes and stepped closer than was grocery store-appropriate and wrapped his arms around Lucy’s waist. She’d had a lot of change, indecision and uncertainty in her life lately. He wasn’t going to add to it.

“We do smell like a pair working their way up to a mating,” he said, rubbing his nose to hers, though she remained stiff in his arms. “However, there’s a big difference between ‘mated’ and ‘working our way to it’ for some Weres. Not for me, no, ma’am, I’d never lead you on without full intentions of following through, but that other gal, she didn’t know.”

“Do I need to tattoo something on your forehead for her and the other werewolves to see we’re together?”

He bit back a grin. He loved seeing her so territorial. Tiffany had always taken his fidelity for granted. He’d done the same with her, but Lucy once again showed she was different.

“Do you trust me, baby?”

He wanted her to mark her space, as long as that was all it was—marking and not insecurity.

She sighed and finally rubbed her nose to his, brushing her lips across his. “It’s not about trust, Scott. I know what kind of man you are. It’s the whole werewolf society, I guess. I don’t know what to expect or what’s normal and I apologize if I overreacted.”

He kissed her, easing his tongue between her lips for a moment of more than innocent and reassuring affection. “I’ll try to be better about explaining to you, so you don’t feel threatened again. Lucy, you’re it for me. There’s no one else, Were or human, I’d rather make out in the grocery store with. I’m happy as hell to wait on other aspects of our relationship because I know you need more time to really know me and us. Once that comes together, the scents really do completely change.”

“Oh.”

She sounded let down and he hoped she didn’t think he was pushing her into giving more than she was ready for. They were right where they needed to be in their courtship. When the rest came together, they’d be explosive. He wasn’t willing to rush their moment for anything.

“How about for the time being we forgo matching forehead tattoos and trust each other, okay? Maybe in a few months, we could get some matching jewelry or something,” he offered.

Weddings mattered to humans. To wolves, not so much, but he figured rings would be reassuring to Lucy and he didn’t mind wearing one for her. It would be nice to have all the bases covered—sight and scents—to keep others away.

“Eventually,” she said and kissed his nose. “In the meantime, talk me down before I do something horrid like attack an innocent werewolf in the cereal aisle.”

He laughed and gave her one last kiss when he realized they were attracting a crowd getting more than an eyeful of baking products.

“Sounds good. Be a nice little human the rest of the trip and I’ll still buy you your milkshake.”

She smiled and, back to the practical woman she usually was, started loading up her cart with pudding. Scott returned to his cart and followed her, sure he’d taken the right step in his future.

* * * *

Lucy sighed and wished she’d stayed at Scott’s house instead of returning to her apartment, but after the whole ‘slut’ incident, she’d been embarrassed. He hadn’t teased her or anything. Still, she’d overreacted. Tracing her finger around the rim of her wineglass, she wondered what it was about him that made her act like, well, an animal at moments.

She never insulted people, let alone to their faces or so venomously. There was never a reason for such ugly behavior and she’d honestly believed that for nearly every moment of her life. In fact, she hadn’t indulged in something so childish since she was a hormonal, angry teenager and even those incidents had been tame compared to her behavior at the store.

The difference was Scott. She’d seen that woman, all tall and skinny and darkly beautiful, lean toward him and she’d seen red. In her mind, she’d already put her stamp on him. The whole mating issue had seemed to her like an automatic branding. Being wrong had been a shock.

She’d overestimated what it all meant. After Scott had explained it more, she’d seen that while the relationship felt like more to her and obviously meant more to him, the outward signs weren’t precisely clear to others.

How much easier would it have been if things had been a done deal? Did she really want life to be simple? She sighed again and propped her feet on the chair across from her. Maybe she did want what she had with Scott to be easy. Nothing else in her life seemed to ever take that label. Being with him and loving him had become effortless. For how complicated their relationship should have been, with his kids and her own history, the ease was something she’d taken for granted or maybe attributed to the ‘mate’ explanation.

Scott had cleared up the misunderstanding, though. Being mates didn’t make life easier—it just meant they were chemically aligned to be fertile together. After Scott explained, she’d realized something very big—she’d been attributing too much to the mating and not nearly enough to the wonderful man. She tried not to over-think what it all meant. Scott had in fact told her outright not to do that before she left, but it was impossible.

The revelation of her affection for Scott made her sad for the way she’d been with Brad. They’d been happy enough. In retrospect, she wondered where they would be if he were still alive. He’d died before they’d ever really gotten into the meat and bones of their marriage. She’d loved him, but she wasn’t sure if they’d have lasted. He’d been a kind man. She took a sip of her wine, also very sweet, and smiled. Brad had sent her twenty dozen flowers in their thirty-six months together. When there hadn’t been flowers, there had been candy and cards just because he was thinking of her. It had been her first taste of being spoiled.

At first she’d been uncomfortable and discouraged him, but during their time dating and after his deployment, the little trinkets and pretty gifts had continued. She smiled again at the memory of daisies showing up at their apartment. Maybe they would have been okay in the long term. Brad had displayed more of a backbone than she’d realized before they married and his strength had shown in small ways. Small, adorable, endearing ways.

It had been too long since she’d really thought about Brad objectively. The anniversary of his death had been a time to remember and place flowers on his grave. Now, she could think about the good times too and they had shared those wonderful moments—moments he’d made by encouraging her to let go and enjoy life.

Maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t as bad as she’d thought when it came to relationships. Perhaps she was a natural when she found the right man to love. Maybe…maybe she needed to put the wine away and go to bed.

The phone rang and, feeling a little loose from fatigue, her long shower and wine, she knew she shouldn’t answer. She picked up her cell and looked at the caller name.
Scott
. She really should let it go to voicemail.

“Hello, handsome.”

“I love how you say that,” he said and she settled deeper into the uncomfortable kitchen chair to listen to him talk. “Are you feeling all right, honey? I know today was a little weird and I wanted to see…”

“See if I was crying in my graham cereal?” she offered.

“Or drowning your troubles in Riesling.”

She laughed. “I’m just finishing my second modest glass of a very delightful vintage with plans of heading to my bed very shortly. I’m fine, though, I promise.”

“Not still down about the shop or out to tackle anymore shewolves?”

“Well, I’ll be down about the shop for a while, but I got a message from the cleaning company. They should be finished by the end of the week, so that’s encouraging. I think the not knowing was getting to me. Having more of a plan in mind helps me focus. And wolves… I’m thankful she didn’t jump me in the parking lot.”

“Aw, I’d have protected you, darling. And you let me know when you need help getting the heavy things done at the shop. Me, Jessie and the boys are looking forward to helping you get everything back up and running. Greg is hoping for some new socks for Christmas and figures you’ll need your shop back together to be in the mood to knit again.”