Emmitt's Treasure: Judgement of the Six Companion Series, book 2 (9 page)

“I’m not afraid of David,” she said before she turned away and poured the rest of the glass of wine into the sink.  The move signaled the topic was now closed, and I wished she wouldn’t have shut me out.

She put the meatloaf in the oven then brought out a bag of potatoes.  When she handed me a few, I washed them for her.  Although I knew she was done talking, I still had so many questions.  If it wasn’t David she feared, then who?  Who locked her brothers in a room?  Who was after my Mate?  Who were Blake and Richard?

Not ready for another unmanning, I kept my mouth shut.  So did she.  And she remained quiet all through dinner.  As soon as we all finished eating, she asked to clean up alone.  I hated leaving her—it felt like losing ground—but did as she asked.

Downstairs, Aden and Jim challenged Liam and me to races.  Wolf style, but no fur.  Winifred scolded his wording but didn’t say a thing when he got down on all fours and started racing around the porch.

When I gave her a questioning look, she shrugged.

“Little bits of information at a time can sometimes help ease a transition.”

I wondered if she knew Jim had said something very similar to me.  Most likely not.  She didn’t like when Jim sounded like an Elder, or was right.

I looked down at Liam, whose gaze was bouncing between Winifred and me.  Ruffling his hair, I dropped to my knees.

“Hang on to my shirt because we’re going to win.”

He grinned and climbed onto my back.

We’d only managed a few official laps when I heard Michelle on the stairs.  I almost stopped, but Liam’s heels dug into my sides in an effort to keep me moving.

“Ready for them to come up to bed?” I heard Winifred ask.

“Not yet,” Michelle said.  “Could you watch them a little longer?  I was hoping Emmitt and I could go for a ride.”

I put on a burst of speed to round the third corner as Winifred answered.

“You smell like wine.  Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Winifred, you’re killing me.

If she’s drunk, do you think it’s wise to have any type of serious conversation?

Serious?  No.  Conversation?  Yes.  This means she’s willing to listen, and I don’t want to throw a chance away.

“It’s the only one I have.”

Michelle’s soft, desperate words had me racing for the next bend.

“Of course, I’ll watch them,” Winifred said.

I turned the corner just as she added, “I’ll put them to bed for you, too.”

Stopping before the women, I let Liam climb off then rose to my feet.  The boy looked up at me with a disgruntled expression, and I mussed his hair with a smile.

“This doesn’t mean they won.  We’ll just need to race them again tomorrow.  Okay, bud?”

He nodded and reluctantly went to sit by Winifred.

Meeting Michelle’s gaze, I held out my hand.  Her cheeks were flushed, and she looked ready to run back inside.  Yet, she remained where she was, watching me steadily.  Winifred was right, she did smell like wine.  That meant she’d drunk more after sending us all outside.  I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.  Was the wine to give her temporary courage or was it a sign that she wasn’t able to deal with who we were?

Michelle glanced at my hand, then at her brother.

“Nana will watch you, Liam,” she said, as she placed her hand in mine.

The feel of her skin against mine sent a shiver of need through me.  No matter what her reason for drinking, I wanted her to myself for a while.  I tugged her hand and led her to the bike.  Her pulse raced, a quick cadence easy to hear in the silence of the evening.  The beat of my heart increased to echo hers because tonight’s ride would be different.  She would hold me.

I released her hand to quickly mount the bike.  She used me for balance as she got on behind me.  When she tried reaching back to hold the bar, I stopped her.

“No holding the bar this time.  Hands around me so I know you’re still with me.”

I started the bike as she nodded and reached forward.  The tentative slide of her hands around my waist had me clenching my teeth.  I wanted more.  More contact.  More time.  More everything.  She scooted forward on the seat so her front almost touched my back and the flat of her hands pressed against my stomach.

Glancing at the porch, I caught Winifred studying me.

Make it work, Emmitt
, she sent to me.

I gave a slight nod and slowly pulled out of the garage.  Behind me, Michelle waved to her brothers.

Once we reached the end of the driveway, I signaled left and settled in for an easy ride.  The feel of her arms wrapped around my waist had me floating.  Occasionally, her fingers would move and send a new jolt of awareness through me.  My head knew I’d recently dropped a bomb on her and that she needed time to process everything, to accept me.  My body didn’t give a damn.  Every cell wanted me to roar with my need for a Claim.  Her fingers trailed three inches lower, and she exhaled contentedly behind me.  My teeth ached as I fought to maintain control of the change.

Then she tapped my stomach and pointed to the left at the old country bar we’d passed when I’d first brought her home.  There was no sign with a name, only a neon light advertising “bar” in one of the high windows.

Disappointment filled me as I signaled and started to slow.  Our kind had remained hidden so well, I’d known her acceptance of us wouldn’t be easy.  But, I hadn’t thought it would turn her into an alcoholic.

I pulled into the parking lot and eased the bike to a stop.  In the silence after cutting the engine, I listened to the steady beat of her pulse.  It was only slightly higher than normal.  Yet, under the layers of exhaust, her fear still tainted the air.

Despite knowing what Michelle wanted, I hesitated to bring her inside.  Winifred hadn’t liked her smelling of wine.  What would she say if I brought Michelle back smelling of more alcohol?

“I can’t take you in there,” I said, eyeing the familiar old building.

“Yes, you can.”  The bike shifted slightly as she dismounted.  Standing to the side, she met my gaze as she waited for me to decide.

“Nana will kill me.”  Literally.  Endangering a potential Mate was a demand for an Elder beating, or worse.

“I think you can take her,” Michelle said with an amused sigh.

“You have no idea,” I muttered as I got off the bike.  Pissing off Winifred was never a good idea.  No matter what Jim thought.

Eyeing the mostly empty parking lot, I led the way to the door.  Hopefully, Michelle wouldn’t want to stay long.  Despite the fact that the bar had no sign, it was popular with the younger local crowd.  The way I was feeling, I didn’t think I’d tolerate long looks from across the bar or flirting.  Just the idea of another man looking at Michelle made my teeth ache.

Frustrated, I yanked the door open and held it for her as she entered.  The bar was quiet.  A few old timers sat at the far end, enjoying beer and some talk.

Wanting to get this over with, I walked up to the bar and ordered a beer and two shots while pulling out a chair for her.  She sat and arched a brow at me.  Because I ordered for her?

“Isn’t that what you wanted?  Alcohol?”  It was hard to keep my tone steady.  I wasn’t angry.  But it did hurt to know she needed alcohol just to tolerate being near me.

I handed her the first shot and didn’t miss how she narrowed her eyes at me before throwing back the liquor.

Then, all my frustration evaporated at the face she made.

“That was awful,” she said, wheezing a little.

Man, why was she so cute?  I nodded and handed her the second shot.

“Isn’t there something better than that?”

“There is, but that will do the trick.”

She swallowed down the shot in one gulp again then waved the bartender over for a glass of water.

While she sipped her water, I sipped my beer and concentrated on her scent.  The fear slowly faded and amusement crept in.

“I think I’m ready,” she said, unsteadily.

“For what, exactly?” I said, warily turning to study her.

“To get to know you.”

My pulse leapt at her words, and I couldn’t deny where my thoughts led.  Something must have shown on my face because she giggled.

“Not that.  Like you asked.”

Images of tangled sheets and twined legs evaporated as I understood.  She’d gotten drunk so she could get to know the furry side of me.  I shook my head, trying to deny my disappointment and stood, offering her a hand.

She didn’t hesitate to place her hand into mine.  The slide of her soft skin brought back the ache I’d been trying to keep at bay since she’d kneed me.  Not the one in my nuts, but the one in my chest.

Thoughts of touching and holding her filled my mind as I led her back to the bike.  She stood unsteadily as I mounted, and I had to help her onto the back.  But once she sat, she wrapped herself around me.  A soft groan escaped me, and I revved the motor to cover the sound.  Did she have any idea how close I was to turning off the bike and pulling her into my lap?

Winifred would kill me.  Only that one sane thought kept me from acting on my urge to touch and hold Michelle…and, maybe, the thought of Michelle sobering and kicking my ass and then leaving me forever.  Yeah, I’d keep my hands off until she was ready.

I started out slowly and kept it slow all the way home, not wanting to give up the feel of her pressed against my back.  Before we were halfway, she sighed and laid her head on my shoulder.  I wasn’t worried about her falling off.  No, nothing would happen.

Her hands drifted north from my waist, and the bike swerved a little.  Damn.  I slowed down further.  Self-inflicted pain.  That’s what the ride was.  It hurt to have her touch me like this and do nothing about it.

When the driveway came into view, I considered passing it by but knew she’d sober eventually.  She clutched me tighter as we turned and pressed her face into my shirt.  Then, she inhaled deeply, scenting me.  It almost ended me.  Why did she have to be drunk?  Why couldn’t she do this sober?

Thankfully, the sun had set and the lights were out in the house when I pulled into the garage.  I didn’t need Jim’s smartass, and probably accurate, observations right now.

Michelle lifted her head as soon as I shut off the bike.  Her fingers continued to trace patterns over my chest.  Each swipe of her finger over a nipple brought me that much closer to shifting.

“What was in that little cup?” she asked with a slight lisp.

“Tequila.”  Hopefully, she didn’t notice the growl vibrating the word.

“It didn’t taste good.”

Her roaming fingers left me, and she struggled to get off the bike.  After the third time she brushed against me, I twisted and put my arms around her as I stood.

In less than a second, we were both standing next to the bike, facing each other.  She blinked at me dazedly.  The weak light from the porch painted her face in dusky shadows, making it easy to follow the movement of her tongue as she licked her soft, parted lips.  I fisted my hands to keep them at my sides.

“What now?” I asked, softly.

“Show me.” As she spoke, she swayed a little and reached out to lay a hand on my arm.  Her fingers immediately started roaming again.  There was no reservation in her touch or her gaze.

“What exactly?” I asked, my heart pounding.

“You said you’re a werewolf.  Show me what that means exactly.”

She wanted to see me?  Our gazes held as I struggled with my desire to show her and my fear of her reaction. Would she run again?  She certainly wouldn’t get very far in the state she was in.

Unable to resist, I reached up and gently touched her cheek.  Smooth and soft.  Warm and welcoming.  That was who Michelle was meant to be.  Home.  But in order for that to be a reality, I needed to figure out her past and conquer her fear.

“If I show you, will you answer some questions for me?”

She nodded, a shy smile pulling at her lips.  My palms grew sweaty.

“Turn around for a second.”

Watching the change would really freak her out, no matter how tipsy she was.  Plus, I didn’t need her to see just how turned on I was when I stripped.

As she teetered in a slow circle, I used my speed to disrobe.  Setting the neat pile of my folded clothes on the ground, I gave in to the urge to shift.  The pain of the shift didn’t outweigh the relief of finally letting it go.

She was still pinwheeling her arms for balance when I settled on my paws and shook out my fur.  Knowing she needed help to steady herself, I stepped closer.  Her fingers brushed my coat.  We both stilled.  A shiver ran through me when she saw me and ran a hand along my spine.

The instant of my birth and the finale of my death would be nothing compared to the moment Michelle finally Claimed me.  I ached for it.

“Hi, there,” she breathed.

Her hand drifted to my head and played with my ear.  If this was the affection I would receive when in my fur, I was never going back to my skin again.

She idly looked around the garage. “Did you see where he went?”

She didn’t know it was me?  I sighed.