Second Chance Mates (4 page)

"I'll be right behind you." Luke
glanced down, remembered his balls. They didn't deserve to get in
the middle of this. "About two feet behind you," he
added.

Cade laughed and made the turn, the
farmhouse appearing at the end of the gravel driveway. It could use
a few extra sacks but it looked neatly raked. "Who knows? Maybe
she'll be pleased to have company?"

It didn't escape Luke that Cade gulped,
the worried look reappearing on his face.
Well, here goes
nothing
, he thought. And I finally get some answers about the
woman who broke Cade's heart.

Chapter Three

Clara looked up at the sound of
pounding on the front door and frowned. Barely anyone came out
here. Well, except those damn property developers and surely they
wouldn't come twice in a week? Part of her was miffed that she
didn't notice the sound of their truck traverse the driveway,
probably a sign that the gravel was too thin. Normally, she'd have
heard or spotted them before they got to set foot on her
porch.

Laying down the hammer and nails she
held, she used her sleeve to wipe the perspiration from her
forehead as she walked from the unfinished deck, through the
folding doors into the house, and made her way towards the front
door, a heavy feeling in her heart. The developers were a nuisance
and she hated dealing with them.

If it were anyone else, her parents for
instance, they normally would have just walked in, but lately she'd
taken to locking the door. There was something about the developers
that made her nervous. It was probably Stanton's bully boy tactics
disguised under his smooth smile and shiny suit that did it. Or
maybe that he always brought muscle, like she was going to start a
fight! Even so, confronted with a locked door, any member of her
family would think nothing of walking around back in search of her.
She'd gotten used to their unannounced visits and really, it was
sweet that they kept checking in on her. Well, originally it had
been sweet. Now it was kind of annoying.

Her nostrils flared as she caught a
stray out of place scent. Strangely, whoever was at the door made
her wolf perk to attention and not in an unpleasant way. She felt…
what was that? Excited?

With a wary look on her face, she
turned the key in the lock and opened the door, surprise nearly
making her heart falter a beat.

In front of her stood not her parents,
or friends—not that she'd seen many of them in a while—or even
those damn developers, but instead the man that made her wolf yip
and whirl in her mind. The man who featured in her dreams, the man
who was on her mind almost as often as Colton. The man who could
have been her lover. Who
should
be her lover.

Cade.

Her wolf howled and scrabbled at the
corners of her minds, delighted to see him, desperate to throw them
both into his arms and just revel in the pleasure of being held by
him.

Instead she froze, her attention
diverted as a second man stepped out from behind Cade and her wolf
went into overdrive. Tall, impossibly broad shouldered and muscled,
with a shaggy crop of blond hair, just curling at the edges, and
eyes that seemed amber, he was delicious. And he was looking at her
with an expression that moved swiftly from annoyance to the
surprise she was sure echoed in her own eyes.

She sniffed again. There was that
scent.
Tiger
, she registered in shock as her inner wolf
slobbered.
A freaking tiger? On my porch? Damn
me.

Her heart rate rose as she stared in
shock at the two men, not quite sure who to focus on.
Damn me,
if fate didn't steal my mate and then send me two.

And with that shocking thought, Clara's
eyes fluttered. She gasped a ragged breath, her knees buckled and
everything went black.

***

Clara blinked, her eyelids fluttering
rapidly until a sea of white span into view. Her ceiling. Her
bedroom ceiling.
What?

"Don't move." The mattress pressed down
as someone sat next to her and a cool flannel was laid across her
forehead. The same voice said, "You fainted."

"The heat," she murmured, closing her
eyes again. She sniffed the air.
Was someone cooking?
Her
stomach growled at the smell of spaghetti and she slapped a hand
over it as the man chuckled. It wasn't just the delicious cooking
scents that made her hungry as she inhaled. It was the man too. She
recognized that scent all right. Damn it. It haunted
her.

"Yeah, must've been the heat," he said,
and chuckled again.

Blinking, she struggled to push herself
up on her elbows and found a pillow swiftly stuffed behind her
back, hands helping her sit up. At last his face swam into
focus.

"Cade?" she whispered, still not quite
believing it.

"In the flesh," he replied, a tentative
smile on his lips.

"What are you doing here?"

"Seem to remember I had an open
invitation. I just finished up some work and came by for a visit.
Can't say I expected you to faint at my feet as a reception." He
seemed amused but she couldn’t fathom why.

"Can't say I expected to see you at my
door," she shot back. "A long way to come for a visit."

"Just happened to be in the
neighborhood," Cade said, throwing out the old line with a wry
smile. Before she could say anything, she found a glass pressed to
her lips. "Drink. Little sips. You're dehydrated and I suspect
you're not eating well either."

Clara didn't have the energy to argue.
Besides, she was parched. She sipped, the refreshingly cool water
slipping down her throat. "Thanks. Why can I smell
cooking?"

"That would be because my friend is a
whizz in the kitchen and is whipping up a mean spaghetti
marinara."

"Your friend is in my kitchen?" she
blurted, whipping the cold flannel from her forehead and sitting up
much too quickly. Her head swimming, she sank back down on the
pillow.

"Doesn't look like anyone else has been
in there in a while. What do you eat?" he asked, his eyes running
over her. She followed his eyes down and blanched. Her shirt had
gone, and her shorts, replaced by the loose t-shirt she slept in.
The sheet had been drawn to her waist.

"Where are my clothes?" Clara asked,
puzzled. Her memory was fuzzy around the edges but she didn't
recall getting up here, climbing into bed or changing. She did
remember the wooden floor coming at her rapidly.
Oh yes, she
fainted.

"You weren't comfortable, so I changed
you."

"You what?" she screeched, clutching
the sheet to her.

Cade shrugged. "You were all dirty and
sweaty and you fainted. You've been asleep damn near three hours. I
figured you may as well be comfortable. You could probably do with
a shower too."

Clara sucked in an indignant breath.
First he turned up unbidden on her doorstep, then he took her
clothes off and now he was telling her she needed a shower?
Of
all the arrogant jerks!
No one ever dared talk to her like
that, not when they knew how bad she felt inside. Except her wolf
just seemed to sleepily raise its head, cocking it to one side,
like it didn't much care how indignant she felt.

"Out." She pointed a finger towards the
door. "Get out!"

"No need to yell. Luke said dinner will
be ready in ten. You have plenty of time to have your shower. Want
me to pick some clothes out for you? I gotta say you look like you
need feeding up but I see you've still got some cute little dresses
in your closet." He gave her a smug look.

That was it. The fury bubbled inside
her. "You went through my things?"

"How do you think I found your shirt?"
Cade got off her bed and she watched him stride into the attached
bathroom, her eyes straying to the way his jeans molded to his
backside.
What was she thinking?
She wrenched her eyes
upwards, fixing them on the corner of the door jamb, bristling as
she heard the water in the shower start to run. "I put towels out
for you," he told her when he reappeared in her bedroom. "Don't
take long, 'kay? You've got guests."

"You're not a guest. You're a...a..."
She struggled for a word, settling on, "Interloper!"

"That's no way to talk to your
brother-in-law," he scoffed and with a tug, wrenched back the sheet
she still unconsciously gripped.

"What are you doing now?" Clara asked,
shuffling backwards until her pillows gave way to the hard
headboard.

"Helping you get a move on." Cade
lunged towards her, grabbing her in both arms and even though she
kicked and pinched, without putting a lot of effort into it, he
manhandled her into the bathroom, relaxing his grip slightly as he
pulled back the shower door and deposited her inside, t-shirt and
all, right under the warm jets of water. The door banged shut as he
stepped back.

"I hate you," she screamed.

"That's more like it. That's the
reception I was expecting." And with that, Cade turned on his heel
and walked out the bathroom, leaving her staring after him as the
water plastered her hair to her scalp and thoroughly soaked the
t-shirt. Like a petulant child, she stamped her foot and
screamed.

Leaning over, she planted her hands on
her knees, heaving air back into her lungs as the water cascaded
over her back. Surprisingly, screaming felt good and she couldn't
help the laughter that bubbled forth.
Really? Screaming and
stamping because she'd gotten a little wet?
Clara laughed
harder, finally rising to peel off her tee and her
panties—definitely the ones she pulled on this morning, she thought
with relief, although they really weren’t the prettiest pair—and
throw them into the corner of the stall, turning so the water
sprayed her front.

She couldn't remember the last time
she'd laughed so hard. Not that it had anything to do with Cade, of
course, Clara told herself. It had nothing to do with him
whatsoever. In fact, she was annoyed. Very annoyed.

And not at all happy to see him. No,
not at all.

And if she kept telling herself that
then maybe her nipples would stop stiffening into little peaks
every time his name popped into her head. It might be her body's
reaction but it didn't jive with the turmoil he constantly put her
head into.

Since when did he get off walking out
her life, with only handful of emails to let her know he was okay,
then turn up unannounced? It wasn't like it was bad enough to lose
her husband, but to lose Cade too when she’d needed him so badly?
It had been too much to bear. And it was all her fault. After all,
she’d driven him away.

Washing quickly, she shampooed her hair
and smoothed shower gel over her body, checked her legs and ‘pits
weren’t stubbly, and finally flicked the faucet to off. Stepping
out, she grabbed the towels Cade helpfully left, quickly drying,
then brushed her teeth to get rid of the cottony feeling in her
mouth. Finally she dragged a wide-toothed comb through her hair, it
already drying quickly in the heat, and scowled into the mirror.
Funnily enough she didn't like her reflection. Angry and surly
didn't suit her at all. She was outdoors and sunshine, happiness
and laughter. Or, at least, she had been until fate turned her life
upside down.

Walking into her bedroom, the towel
firmly tucked about her she stopped and scowled.

On her bed lay a sun dress, her
favorite as it happened, a pink cotton number with a fitted bodice
and a skirt that flared. On top of it lay a lacy thong.

"Cade," she muttered, with a shake of
her head. If he thought she was wearing that to dinner with him and
his tiger friend, he had to be kidding. Bypassing the bed to open
her closet, she pulled out clean underwear, jeans and a cute pink
button down shirt that would set off her blonde curls nicely. She
dressed quickly.

The rich smell of spaghetti sauce
filled the air and she couldn't help sniffing. She used to love
cooking, but like so many other things, she couldn't be bothered
now there was only her to cook for.

Unbidden, the memory of a barbecue
they'd held that fateful summer swam into the forefront of her
mind. It had been a glorious day, the sun high and heavy in the
azure sky. They'd packed up a picnic and walked down to the lake,
all of them—Colton, Cade, her and a big group of friends—giddy with
the expanse of natural wilderness stretching in front of them.
While the boys set up the firepit, she and her friends had gone
swimming in the lake. On returning to tend to the food, the boys
had streaked past them, leaping into the lake wearing nothing but
feral smiles. How she remembered gasping at the sight of Colton and
Cade racing past her in the buff, their tanned backsides pumping as
they hit the water, their matching green eyes flashing with
laughter. She had seriously considered Colton's suggestion to
rethink her position and to take Cade as her mate that day, the
desire to claim him surging through her, her inner wolf chafing to
mark him. Maybe if they'd been alone, just the three of them, she
would have. Life could have been so different.

Clara closed her eyes and sucked in a
breath. Must not think about Cade naked. Must. Not. No good could
come of it and damn it, if he wasn't in her house, already making
her think of things she had no place thinking of.