Forbidden Shadows (Lee County Wolves Book 7)

Chapter 7

Clare’s eyeballs felt like sandpaper as she put another tray of homemade biscuits in the oven. The warmth had her yawning. Stretching, she turned around. Her yawn turned into a shriek. Malcolm stood in the doorway of the kitchen, staring at her.

“You scared the life out of me.” Clare gasped, trying to calm her rapid heart.

“I saw lights.” He said without apologizing.

“Oh, ah, yeah. Just me.” Clare said, sounding like a complete idiot. Of course, he saw it was her since she was the only one present.

“How did you get here?” Malcolm frowned, not looking pleased.

“Walked,” Clare replied, holding back another yawn. She hadn’t slept but maybe half an hour. She gave a whole new meaning to tossing and turning. Every time she closed her eyes, this man’s image appeared, teasing her with those eyes and black as-sin hair. Clare had been afraid she would have nightmares of the car speeding toward her, but nope, she only had thoughts of the man standing there staring at her with those mysterious eyes. She had no clue as to why this sudden attraction to him. She had found him attractive the first time she saw him; she wasn’t blind. But since last night, it was as if her body ached at even the thought of him. Whoa, she needed to calm her ass down on those kinds of thoughts. “I’ve done it before, though usually not when the weather is so chilly.”

“You should have called someone.” Malcolm’s frown deepened.

Disappointment hit her a little too hard when he suggested someone else, not him. Yeah, she definitely needed to distract herself from this man. “I’m not evil enough to make someone crawl out of a warm bed just to drive me two minutes into town.” Clare snorted, trying to ignore how small the big kitchen felt with him blocking her escape. It wasn’t as if she was afraid of him. Quite the opposite. She wanted to run to him with open arms. Blowing hair out of her eyes, she walked toward the metal island in the middle of the kitchen to start another tray of biscuits.

“Your car isn’t drivable. I’ll order what I need and should have all the parts here by the end of the week,” Malcolm informed her, his frown still evident. “Do you have another way of transportation?”

“No,” Clare frowned. She really did need her car. “I guess I can ask Roxy to use hers since she can’t fit behind the steering wheel right now.”

Malcolm cocked his eyebrow at that, and Clare realized what she just said.

“Don’t you dare tell her I said that?” Clare warned, pointing a spoon at him.

“I can take you home,” Malcolm mentioned with a shrug. “If you don’t mind the motorcycle.”

Mind? Hell, she’d sell her soul for another ride with him. Oh, my God, no, she wouldn’t. What in the hell was she thinking? He wasn’t that damn good-looking. She chanced a glance at him. Okay, that was a lie. He was sexy as hell, and who needed a soul? Realizing he was waiting for an answer, she cleared her throat and returned to rolling out more biscuit dough. “I appreciate that, but I’m sure you have better things to do than running me up the road when I can walk.”

“Do you know why we run perimeter every day and night?” Malcolm asked as he walked closer, stopping on the other side of the table. He didn’t wait for her to answer. “Because there could be danger. I know you are human, but you are still in Shifter territory, which means you are under the protection of the Lee County Wolves. If Dell finds out I allow you to walk home, I would probably lose my job.”

“And if that happened, I would serve Dell weak coffee for the rest of his life,” Clare vowed since everyone knew how much Dell loved his strong coffee. She snorted, giving him a look just in time to see him take a piece of raw dough and toss it in his mouth. “That will give you worms.”

Malcolm grinned. “No, it won’t.”

“My grandmother was never wrong about those things,” Clare warned him with a cocked eyebrow. “I bet you licked the cake batter spoon also.”

“That’s the best thing about cake,” Malcolm said with a shrug, then sniffed. “Is something burning?”

“Shit!” Clare jumped, running for the oven. Whipping the door open, she grabbed the closest thing, a dishtowel. Cursing, she hurried toward the counter. She tossed the hot tray and burnt biscuits, sending them sliding. “Ouch!” She looked down at her red fingertips, which were stinging like hellfire.

A strong hand gripped her arm, leading her toward the sink. “Dammit, Clare.” Malcolm’s deep voice vibrated through her body. “You need to be more careful.” He turned on the facet and then inspected her fingers.

“I never burn biscuits,” Clare mumbled, then moaned when the cold water hit her burning skin.

“My fault. I was distracting you.” Malcolm commented, holding her hand under the water.

That was a huge understatement, but she kept that to herself. “Can you get me the butter?”

Malcolm looked from her hands to her with a frown. “I think eating a biscuit can wait.”

Clare actually laughed at that. “Not for the biscuit.” She looked closely at her fingertips when he pulled them out of the water to inspect them. It didn’t look like they were going to blister, but the burning intensified once out of the water. “To put on my fingers.”

He started for the refrigerator, then stopped to look back at her with an odd expression. “For your fingers?”

“Yeah, butter helps ease the burning.” Clare gently dried her burning fingers and then started to blow on them. His gaze dropped to her lips, and she stopped blowing in mid-blow as their eyes met. The heat she saw in his gaze had her body exploding with such sexual energy it scared her a little. Holy shit. She thought she heard him curse before he returned to the refrigerator, opened it so hard she thought he had broken it, and then searched for the butter. “It’s on the top shelf.”

Malcolm reached inside, grabbed the butter, and then slammed the door shut without saying another word. He reached her and then put the butter on the counter. Clare grabbed the container without thinking and hissed at the contact. She tried to open it, but the stinging pain was causing her issues. She glanced again to see that a small blister started to form on her index finger.

“Here.” Malcolm’s voice sounded gruff as he gently took the butter from her. He opened it and then held it out for her.

Clare dipped her fingers in the creamy cold butter and sighed. “People who say this doesn’t work are dead wrong.” Once her fingers were coated and not burning as much, she glanced up at Malcolm. He was staring at the butter with a frown. “What?”

“Tell me that this is not the butter you cook with,” Malcolm said, a half-smile playing at the corner of his lips.

Clare glanced down at her finger indention in the butter, a smile appearing. “Only if I know they’re bad tippers.”

“Noted,” Malcolm said as their eyes met. Malcolm’s laugh was so genuine it melted her heart. Her laughter joined his as he held the butter container, and she again had her fingers in it.

“Well, isn’t this cozy?” Jamie’s voice came from the door, startling them both.

Disappointment was swift as Clare watched Malcolm’s laughter die a quick death. He pulled the butter away from her so quickly that it scaped her fingers, making her wince.

“Sorry,” Malcolm muttered with a frown, setting the butter on the counter. “I’ll keep you updated on your car.”

Clare nodded as she watched Malcolm walk past Jamie with a nod and disappear out the door.

Jamie was also watching her brother, then turned toward her. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt. Marcus called and asked if I could help you out today.”

“Oh, okay. I appreciate that.” Clare said as melted butter dripped from her fingers. Jamie stood there, looking first at the butter and then at Clare. “I burnt my fingers. Malcolm was helping me.”

“I saw. Butter is the best. Working in the restaurant business for most of my life, I’ve had many burns, and butter is my go-to.” Jamie smiled, walking toward the office and putting her bag down before returning. “So, Malcolm rushed over here to help with your burns, huh?”

“Ah, no.” Clare frowned, heading toward the first aid kit to grab a few Band-Aids. “He came over to update me on my car.”

Jamie took the Band-Aids from her. “Devon told me what happened. I’m so glad you’re okay.” She said as she handed Clare a towel to dab some of the butter off her fingers so the bandages would stick. “Malcolm saved you?”

“He did.” Clare wasn’t sure where all this was going, but she felt it was going somewhere. She was going to play along for now. Jamie was very nice, but she had a hard edge about her, and from things she had heard, she could understand why. She didn’t really listen to gossip. More times than not, she took it with a grain of salt, but Roxy was the one who told her some of the backstory; because of Marcus, Roxy was privy to a lot of legit information.

“And practically killed the man who almost hit you.” Jamie proceeded as she put the Band-Aids on two of her fingers. “Interesting.” She whispered absently as she focused on her doctoring.

“Your brother is a good man,” Clare said with a frown, feeling as if she needed to defend Malcolm. Why would that be interesting? Did Jamie not think her brother would stand up for a woman, any woman, that was almost killed by some asshole.

Jamie’s eyes shot up to hers. “He’s the best man I’ve ever known.” Jamie agreed with her and then sighed. “I just wish he knew that.”

Clare didn’t say anything as she cleaned up the Band-Aid wrappers and threw them away. “Thanks.” She said, wiggling her fingers slowly, relieved that they were no longer burning like the fires of hell. She glanced up to see Jamie staring at her oddly. “What?” A sadness filled Jamie’s eyes as she continued to stare at Clare. There was also another emotion that Clare couldn’t quite put her fingers on. Hope maybe.

“I haven’t heard Malcolm laugh like that in a long time,” Jamie said, then shook her head. “It was good to hear.”

Not really knowing how to respond, Clare just nodded. Then she smiled, remembering something from her past. “My grandma used to say that laughter is the best medicine.”

“Except for burns,” Jamie said, touching the corner of her eye as if wiping a tear.

“Except for burns.” Clare agreed with a grin. “Okay, back to it. We are going to have some hangry customers out there very soon.”

“Leave them to me,” Jamie said, heading toward the front. “I’ve had many run-ins with hangry people. I got this.”

Clare chuckled, turning to clean up her burnt biscuit mess, but stopped when she spotted the butter on the counter. She went and grabbed it, putting the lid back on. Walking to the refrigerator, she opened it and then smiled as she put it way in the back behind a bunch of condiments so no one would use it. Closing the door, she stopped as a quick flash of Malcolm laughing crossed her mind. Everyone deserved to laugh. No matter what life tossed your way, you should laugh. It was at that moment she vowed to make sure Malcolm did more of it because he deserved it, and she wanted to have that heart-melting feeling again. She was terrified to admit that Malcolm was the only person who had ever given her that feeling.