Alpha Me Not (11 page)

“I knew
that
.” She squinted at him, and he had to suppress a grin when her mouth settled into a perfect upside-down U.

“I was on a mission for the last three months. Before we start a project, we all undergo a complete medical. The same when we end a mission. I’m not one for casual sex, especially overseas. Too risky. I’m clean.”

Her eyes widened at the casual sex reference. Good. For some reason she’d lumped him into the male-slut stereotype. “I expected nothing else.”

Huh? The minute he thought he had her pegged, she surprised him. Maybe earning her trust wouldn’t be the equivalent of climbing Mount Everest. He spied her clenched jaw, the jutted chin, and abandoned any idea of instant faith in his sound judgment.

“About our buddy arrangement.” She swallowed and darted him a quick peek.

“Did you find an apartment already?” He’d spent the whole morning ensuring no affordable residence would open up for at least six weeks.

“Not yet. I found a couple of possibilities though.”

She folded her arms. Wriggled her shoulders and dropped balled fists to her hip. Glanced down, glared at her hands, and flexed her fingers. Her firm breasts thrust forward on a deep inhale. He pretended not to notice the nervous tick jumping under one eye.

“I know I said I wanted us to wait until I have a place of my own. I don’t want to sound fickle. But can we change those terms?”

He nudged her chin with the back of his hand. “To what?”

She met his stare head-on. “To I don’t want to wait. Period.”

“That works for me. Get changed, missy. I’ll scrounge up a couple pairs of running shorts.”

A hoot burst from his lips when she did a double take. “First we run. Then we see what happens.”

Petulant couldn’t begin to describe the cant of her pinched brows. She would fight his mate claim every step of the way. And he couldn’t wait for the campaign to engage.

He palmed her cheeks, slanted his mouth over hers, and kissed her until all the rigidness went out of her spine. Grinned when he lifted his head and found her eyes glazed and her lips red and pouty. He flicked her nose. “Hold that thought.”

Ten minutes later Joe guided her down to his usual five-mile path. He set an easy pace, for the route veered up a steep slope after the first third of a mile. Her long, tanned legs matched his wide stride effortlessly.

“How long have you been running?”

“I can’t remember not running.” Her white teeth flashed in the dim light provided by the sliver of a moon mounting the eastern horizon. A diamond-bright carpet studded the black sky, and the temperature had dropped into the forties.

“Cold?” He glanced to the shoulder exposed by the tank she wore.

“Are you kidding? This is perfect. I could go for an hour in this kind of weather. Did we just enter the state park?” She peered at the shadowed sign to the right of the dirt trail.

“Hallie Forest Preserve? Yes.”

“Where did you find him?”

He knew right away she’d been worrying about Petey and Barb and Kieran. “About three miles east of where Mudflat River meets the Mahnee. There’s a no-man’s-land strip that runs about fifty by twenty-three acres. The site of a ton of illegal hunting. This time of year the pickings are slim. Not much traffic.”

“Was it far away from Petey’s school?”

“It’s actually not even nine miles away from Hallie Trails Elementary.”

“How’d the police miss it, if it was so close?”

“The school’s at the bottom of a perpendicular escarpment. Not climbable. And not accessible by car or truck. The dogs didn’t pick up the trail.”

They reached a wide curve bordered by a sheer drop to a muddied ravine. He fell a step behind so as to not crowd her.

“How’d
you
pick the scent up?”

Joe curbed a wince at the suspicion-laced emphasis. Definitely
not
the right time to break the half-breed wolf news. “Dogs track scents on the ground. At most at a two-paw standing level. I look up as well as down.”

It was a lame explanation, but all he could come up with.

The route narrowed, and they entered a thicket of dense pines.

“You go ahead of me.”

He hung back and ran in place. Joe’s night vision allowed him to focus on the mulish line her lips assumed. His mate hated taking orders. Distraction was in order.

“Careful going up. From here the path takes a series of ninety-degree turns, and the elevation increases exponentially. A slow, steady pace is the best way to approach the gradient.” The last sentence virtually ensured she’d race up the hill.

“Gotcha.” Susie twirled and poked his chest. “Beat you to the top.”

Damn it
. Even knowing how his mate would react hadn’t prepped him for her lightning dash. She caught him off guard. Before he could take a step, Susie disappeared around one of the near perpendicular bends he’d warned her about.

She ran like Mercury.

Her feet skimmed the packed earth.

“Slow down, woman.”

Instead of complying with his hissed command, she put on a burst of speed and vanished up an abrupt, sharp incline. He scanned the solid tree line, expanded his pupils, and zoomed in on the vegetation. A flash of her white tank top appeared right above him. He leaped the three feet to the trail above.

Her victorious laugh startled a nearby flock of swallows that took flight in a flurry of beating wings, snapped branches, and outraged squawks. He pumped his arms, jumped again, and scented the lemon shampoo she’d used yesterday.

She stopped on a nickel right in front of him.

Joe ran into Susie’s back.

Instinctively he curved his arms around her waist.

Her hands snagged his wrists.

“Can you feel that?” Her dread-laced whisper curled the hairs on his neck.

Touching two fingers to her mouth, he slowed his breathing and listened.

An icy draft slid up his spine.

Not five yards ahead, a wispy curl of fog slithered along the leaf- and needle-packed forest floor. Shaped like a snake with a flat cobra head, the gray band slinked between spindly pine trunks, undulating and mimicking the eerie movement of a slithering reptile.

The moisture that always preceded a Hallie-based fog was absent from the atmosphere. The apparition didn’t have any solidity and appeared to be a collection of cloud-type molecules, or smoke. No sound accompanied the thing’s progress into the forest.

Susie shuddered.

Joe tugged her closer and linked his fingers.

His hackles rose, but he scented nothing strange, just the familiar. Rotting undergrowth, fungus, and a hint of acid? He frowned and searched for the source of the acridity.

Cautiously, in an exaggerated slow motion, she turned in his arms and mouthed,
Home?

Stifling the urge to emit a victorious howl, Joe nodded.

Home, she had called his house home.

He met her stare and replied in the same manner,
On three. Back down the hill.

Joe held up a finger. Lifted his precious mate and set her in the opposite direction. Swiveled so he stood behind her. Raised another finger.

She angled her head to see him.

Three.

They made it back to the start of the trail in less than six minutes. Just over two miles in under six minutes.

Susan Elizabeth White hadn’t practiced full disclosure with him, not that he expected it at this stage in their relationship.

No ordinary female, not even an Olympic athlete, could manage such a feat. He didn’t utter a word but matched her pace and relaxed into a walk when she did.

“What was that…thing?” She turned to him. “It creeped me out.”

“Dunno. But I know I’ve seen something similar before.” Only as the words formed did the realization set in.

“I haven’t. Not even in horror movies.” She hunched and shook out her shoulders. “I ran part of the same trail yesterday. The middle part by the ravine. It gave me that same cold, slimy feeling. I’m being paranoid, aren’t I?”

“No. Always go with your instincts. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve cheated death because I had that tingling back-of-the-neck feeling and acted on it. Tomorrow I’ll check out both places.”

“I want to come with you. I’ll never feel comfortable running there again until I’ve checked the area thoroughly.”

The set of her jaw told Joe she expected him to argue.

“Sound thinking. We’ll go together.” He clamped his lips together to prevent a snicker at her annoyed scowl. Joe halted when they reached the border of the state park and Terri’s lot. Elm Close and Birch Crescent were bounded by the Hallie Forest Reserve. Side by side, they strolled around the scarred, empty lot that once housed Terri’s bungalow. Yellow and black tape delineated the property, so he assumed the authorities hadn’t finished their investigations.

She sniffed. “Wonder how long it’ll take for the burned smell to go?”

“A week maybe if we don’t get any rain.”

“Hard to believe this is all that’s left.” They surveyed the ravaged plot. The smudged concrete slab was barely visible in the faint moonlight amid the mountains of rubble, brick, charred planks, and the odd recognizable item: the wire rim of a lampshade, and a brass doorbell. “What do you think Terri will do?”

“I spoke to her today. She’s authorized me to deal with her property. Once the fire department gives us the okay, I’ll hire a crew to dig out the foundation. She wants to rebuild and put in a basement. When things settle down, she’s going to ask Kieran to come up with a house plan.”

“As in Kieran and Barb?”

The wind picked up as they neared the top of the cul-de-sac, and swung Susie’s ponytail to one side. She caught the ends of her hair and twirled the fat length around her fingers.

“Yep. Kieran’s an architect.”

“No kidding. You two been friends for long?”

“Since the day I moved here. Fifteen years ago.” Man, had time flown by fast. “Kieran and I met right where we’re standing now.”

“Did the city put up a plaque to commemorate the occasion?”

“Sassy woman.” He snagged her waist from behind and rested his chin on her head.

“Does the street look the same as it did back then?” Susie leaned into his embrace, and he linked his hands over her belly.

“Pretty much—except for Terri’s house.”

“I guess the neighbors have changed since then, though. I know Mr. Arnold’s on the right. Who’s on the other side?”

Terri’s lot had the middle end spot and the widest and largest backyard. Mr. Arnold’s house rode the right and back of the pie-shaped wedge. “The Hassanis. Next to them is Taxim, a former Canadian supermodel. Then Bernice and Don Jones, retired principal and nurse, respectively. Next to them at the end are the Lees, they have a baby and a toddler.”

“Gemma told me about the right side of the street. Mrs. Laughlin’s next to her, then a local sculptor, and then a widow and her son?”

“Correct. Reuben Gentry considers himself an artist, not just a sculptor. Fay Ward’s the widow—in her eighties, but spry and smart as a whip. Ivan’s her son. Let’s go home.” He had plans for the rest of the night, and all involved keeping her on the brink of climax for as long as he could hold out.

“Didn’t mean to bore you.”

He set his hand to the small of her back. “You could never bore me, and you well know it.”

“Right now, if I had a choice, I’d choose boredom. This all feels so surreal.” She waved at the scorched remains of Terri’s house as they walked past. “What if I did start the fire, Joe? What if I didn’t close either of the tank valves properly? How on earth am I going to make amends to Terri?”

Her question ended on a choked sob, and she focused on a spot somewhere in the distance. The notion had been eating away at her. He rested his palms on her shoulders, swung her around, and shook her gently when she kept her focus on his chest. “Susie?”

The shimmer in her eyes spoke volumes. Guilt and remorse pinched her lips.

“First. We need to wait for the fire department’s report. Until we have that—no what-ifs. Agreed?” She had no guile, his mate. Every emotion she felt imprinted on her features, the hopeful quirk of a brow, the quick, hesitant frown, and the fervent nod.

“Good.”

She trapped one hand. “But what if the insurance doesn’t—”

Joe stopped her with the slight pressure of one finger. “I checked everything today. Terri’s fully insured. No more what-ifs.”

The huge sigh Susie expelled and the worry evident when she knuckled her brow had his stomach clenching. Then he grinned. One sure way to distract her big-time.

“After you.” He waved her up the stairs and enjoyed the sway of her tight ass as she cleared the three steps to the deck. He hurried ahead, opened the door to the bungalow, followed her inside, and tugged her into his arms.

“I’m sweaty.” She set her palms to his chest.

“So am I.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Let’s get clean.”

She tilted her head, eyed him, and a slow, measured smile captured her full lips. “Why, Joe Huroq, what splendid ideas you have.”

Well, well. Why would his mate pick that particular Grimm tale to almost paraphrase? Did she subconsciously recognize his wolf?

“All the better to eat you with, little girl.” He mugged a leer. “My shower or yours? Mine has special features.”

Placing a finger on her chin, she sent him a sidelong glance and, in a coquettish, husky voice, asked, “Do I get to try out all the special features?”

“You bet.” He hauled her up high against his chest and whirled in the opposite direction. “Be forewarned—it works both ways.”

“I’m game.” The devilish gleam in her eyes held a sensual promise he intended to collect.

“You should know. I play to win. All’s fair and all that.” He nipped her lower lip, stalked into the kitchen, and caught the time on the micro. “Crap. It’s almost nine. And it’s a Monday night. If we don’t order food now, we’ll have to go to the twenty-four-hour Walmart and grab what we can.”

Was her little sigh one of relief?

“It’s up to you.” She avoided meeting his gaze.

“How about we order food now, but have them deliver it in half an hour? Shower. By then the food will be here, and we can decide what we’re hungry for—round two or actual grub?”