One Second (Seven Series Book 7) (3 page)

“You could have canceled.”

Great. Since we were avoiding pregnancy, my heat cycle would last longer, which meant we were going to be marooned up here for God knows how long. Lorenzo didn’t know our private business, so he was going to get suspicious as to why Austin hadn’t taken care of my needs.

Austin winked at me, humor flashing in his eyes. “I’ll hunt for you, feed you, and make love to you so many times that we won’t need to stay the winter. But I’ve got a feeling you’ll want to. There’s no reason why we can’t stretch this trip out a little longer.”

Ivy moved through the room with her phone to her ear and sat on the leather sofa in front of the fireplace. Hope was fourteen and undoubtedly keeping the pack on their toes.

“Austin, I really don’t want to talk about sex in front of my cousin.”

I
loved
calling Lorenzo my cousin. For whatever reason, it irritated him. Maybe it’s because he’d tried to hook up with me when we first met.

“We’re
not
related by blood,” he said through clenched teeth. “You should visit and I’ll introduce you to your real cousins.”

My real mother was his aunt by marriage. My real father? Just some rogue drifting through town, from what I’d been told.

“I’ve already got a family; I don’t need yours.” I swallowed a mouthful of wine, the smoky flavor overpowering my taste buds.

Lorenzo leaned back in his chair, his right arm still resting on the table. “I just assumed you would want a larger family, as it doesn’t appear yours is as big as it should be.”

Austin’s fist flew down on the table, rattling the glasses and bottles. I tensed, recognizing Lorenzo had indirectly insulted Austin.

I glanced over my shoulder at Ivy and then back to Lorenzo, keeping my voice low. “I could say the same about you, Mr. Church. A Packmaster with only one child hardly has room to talk.”

He nodded his head in acquiescence and polished off his wine.

Austin settled back in his chair, the angry lines in his forehead easing as he popped a cheese cube into his mouth. A sensible Packmaster didn’t hold grudges. They gave warnings and acted on threats, but men who bottled up hate and carried it around made poor decisions and lost allies.

“What do you know about my real father?” I asked.

Lorenzo choked a little on his wine. “I thought you didn’t care about your father.”

“I don’t
care
about him. But maybe I’m a little curious as to how he hooked up with my mother and why she would have slept with a rogue when she had a mate.”

Lorenzo laced his fingers together. “What happened between them is only speculation. My father believed that my uncle couldn’t get her pregnant, so she shared her bed with another alpha. Either that or my uncle avoided her because he didn’t want children. I’m sure you can imagine the shame a woman would feel to be rejected by her mate in her most important time of need.”

God, Lorenzo had put his foot in his mouth without realizing we were having similar problems.

“Did anyone ever meet him?” I asked.

He shook his head.

“Know his name?”

Lorenzo ran the pointed end of his arrowhead pendant across his lower lip. “You would want to acquaint yourself with a coward who shamelessly impregnated a woman in her heat cycle and destroyed a pack?”

“Maybe he didn’t know she was pregnant.”

Lorenzo scooted his chair back, and the legs noisily scraped against the wood floor. “Every Shifter knows the odds of pregnancy when you mate with a woman in heat. Men like him are no better than dogs.”

“Something you’ll never understand, Lorenzo, is what it feels like to not know where you’re from. Meeting second and third cousins will never get rid of the shitty feeling of knowing my mother is dead and nobody has a clue who my real father is. Maybe he’s no one important, and I never said that I wanted a relationship with him. But it’s the
not knowing
that’s eating away at me as time goes by. I’m obviously Native American, but what else? German? Irish? Was my father even a wolf? If he’s not, then that means there’s a slim chance that my children could wind up being a deer or moose. How am I supposed to explain that to a child raised by a pack of wolves?”

“Not likely,” he said, turning his glass in a circle.

“But possible.”

“There are many unknowns in life, especially the magic within each of us.” He leaned forward, stroking his smooth chin. “Do you think knowing who made you will change anything? Or will it simply change how you feel? Your confidence and self-worth should come from here,” he said, tapping his forehead. “And here.” Lorenzo placed his hand across his heart.

Austin scratched his jaw. “She has a right to know.”

“And I thought you would support my position on this one, Cole.”

Austin’s brows rose. “Think again, Church. If this is something important to my mate, then it’s important to me. So if you’re concealing any information, then you better give it up. Doesn’t do any good to keep secrets. You of all people should know that by now.”

“I know nothing,” Lorenzo said, holding up his hands. “I was young when all that happened, and there was much talk. My uncle shamed his family and is no longer here to tell the tale.”

I tapped my fingers on the table, deep in thought. “Did she have any sisters or friends she would have confided in? She might have spilled some of her darkest secrets to a close friend.”

Dammit
. Now
I
was the one sticking my foot in my mouth. My face flushed with embarrassment, and I took a long sip of wine to steady my quickening pulse. The last thing I needed was Austin to think I’d blabbed about our private affairs to one of my girlfriends. Maizy was the only one I’d told, but she was my sister, and we’d made a pact to never keep secrets from each other. Maybe men can live alone in their pain, but women rely on friends to help us get through the crazy shit. Someone who listens, understands, and reminds us that it’s
okay
to laugh.

Thankfully, Austin was temporarily distracted when Reno discovered the pie.

“Be sure to save me some of that,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “If I get up and see half that pie is gone, your ass is going out in the snow.”

“Reno!” April hissed, staring at his plate with rounded eyes. “Cut that in
two
.”

Lorenzo stood up when he overheard Ivy wrapping up the phone call. “Ivy, I want to speak to my daughter.”

“I’ll send her your love,” she called out over her shoulder.

He strode toward her. “I will have no one send affection on my behalf,” he grumbled.

“She’s playing a game with Caleb and Moreland.”

“She is stubborn like her mother. Hand me the phone.”

I laughed and thought about the hell Lorenzo was going to put Hope’s future suitors through.

Austin gripped my chair and pulled it next to his. Then he scooped me onto his lap, and I nuzzled against his whiskery neck, breathing in his musky scent. Damn, I loved the way that man smelled.

Suddenly, I got the tingles.

God, no
.

I tried to push him away, but Austin planted his lips on mine. He was a masterful kisser. The things he could do with his tongue, the way he’d pull me in and kiss me harder, the way our bodies seemed to meld together—it was as if he were making love to me with his kiss. The stubble on his jaw scratched against my skin, and another wave of tingles roared through me. I moaned, fighting the urge to straddle him.

Need distance!

I sprang off his lap, steering myself toward the kitchen. Sometimes just being near an alpha male would trigger a heat episode, and I was about to ride him like a Harley in front of all my guests.

“Uh-oh,” April said, licking pie filling off the butter knife. “I’ve seen that look before. Reno, I think it’s time for us to say good night.”

His jaw slackened, hands still gripping his plate of uneaten apple pie.

April laughed and said, “I swear, if that man ever had to choose between me and your pie, I’d be in serious trouble.”

I tried to contain my mischievous grin. “Why make him choose? Go home and put that pie right between your—”

She slapped a hand over my mouth. “Reno, wrap up your dessert and let’s go. It’s late, and we need to head back before it starts snowing again.”

Ivy rubbed my shoulders from behind. “It was a wonderful evening. Thank you for inviting us, and not just for dinner. Both Lorenzo and I appreciate your invitation to join you here in Colorado. We don’t get out as often as we should, and it’s nice to finally see what you’ve done with the pieces I’ve spent years restoring.”

I turned around. “Your furniture is what makes this place feel like a second home. The only thing missing is a throw that will match the décor. We bought blankets, but I want to drape something light over the back of that hideous sofa. I can’t seem to find anything with the right patterns.”

She tapped her finger on her chin. “I have an idea. There’s a woman in our pack who’s a skilled weaver. Leave it to me.”

Everyone gathered near the door and slipped on their coats. April hummed a Billy Joel song while putting on a pair of cute snow boots with white fur around the top. Ivy had on brown mukluks and a knee-length suede coat. She said the fur-lined boots kept her feet toasty warm but weren’t entirely waterproof.

The snowdrifts were deep, but the pathways that connected the cabins through the dense forest were passable. We didn’t have to fear wild animals when traversing through the woods; they could sense a Shifter and usually kept their distance.

I blew out a frosty breath when we stepped off the porch. I was in awe of how a mixture of moonlight and snow could create so much visibility. Our boots crunched across the white blanket of snow as we headed toward the path on the left that led to Reno and April’s cabin. Everyone had chosen to walk since it was a nice evening, and because Lorenzo’s cabin was just down the road, their hike wasn’t as arduous.

April shivered and curled against Reno for warmth, though I wasn’t sure how much heat was penetrating through his leather jacket.

Ivy gazed up at the moon with fear glittering in her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“There’s blood on the moon.”

I hugged my arms and looked up. Sure enough, there was a red tint. “Huh. Maybe it’s an eclipse. I’ve heard that happens.”

“It’s not an eclipse,” Reno said.

I twisted around. “Now how would you know that, Mr. Science?”

He shrugged. “I watch a lot of PBS specials.”

Ivy lowered her eyes and patted the snow with her cane. “My mother used to tell me bedtime stories about a blood moon. She said it foretold one of two things: either the passing of a great warrior or a coming battle.”

“Cole, take a look at this,” Lorenzo called out.

Lorenzo had branched away from us and was kneeling beneath a tree. We crossed the short distance and stopped where the snow became patchy. Lorenzo scooped up a clump of dirt and rubbed it between his fingers, then held it to his nose and drew in a breath.

He rose to his feet and regarded Austin with a serious tone. “Someone’s been here. Did you mark the property line?”

“Twice.”

Lorenzo wiped the caked mud from his fingertips. “I’m a skilled tracker—a talent my ancestors have passed down through each generation. Our tribe believed a good warrior could never protect his family unless he learned to heal or to hunt. I learned both.”