Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
JESSE
An hour later, there was still no sign of Matt.
Or of anyone, for that matter. Jesse paced through the house.
He wondered again about going outside, and the part of him Matt said was his wolf was excited at the prospect, but Jesse wasn’t that reckless.
He also had the feeling that, while Matt would be pissed at him for disobeying, he’d also be disappointed. He didn’t like how that made him feel.
No, he’d stay here, just as long as Matt wasn’t much longer. He sighed and slid down the hallway wall, landing in a dusting of wolf hair and dirty paw prints. Classy.
The front door opened, letting in afternoon heat. It took him a moment to put a name to the dark-haired shifter who stood there, looking surprised to see Jesse sitting on the floor.
“Hi,” Jason said uncertainly. “Is everything okay?”
Jesse scrambled to his feet. He didn’t want to get involved in pack business, but he thought Matt would probably want to warn his pack that something was wrong.
“Matt thinks there might be trouble out there,” he said.
Jason’s eyes searched his face intently. “What does he want us to do?”
How the hell was Jesse supposed to know that? “Nothin’ just yet, I guess. I thought you should know.”
“Okay.” Jason finally closed the door behind him, obviously not inclined to do anything without Matt’s orders. It was just like Jesse had thought—a wolf that was part of a pack had forgotten how to think for themself.
He followed Jason through to the kitchen for no reason other than the delicious smells of fresh bread and barbeque sauce that clung to him.
“So, Matt’s outside?” Jason asked, turning in the kitchen to face Jesse. “Are you—have you eaten?”
“I mean, it was a while ago,” Jesse confessed.
“I could make you something, if you want.”
“You cooked last night,” he remembered. “Is that what you do in the pack?”
Jason, halfway into the fridge, stilled. “I do more than that,” he said into the cold. “Pack’s about more than just our jobs or roles or whatever.”
Jesse tensed, unsure if he’d said the wrong thing. But when Jason turned around with a container in hand, there was no sign of the upset he thought he’d heard.
Jason seasoned a beef patty and dropped it into a hot pan, where the sizzle and smell nearly made Jesse groan. As he hung over the stovetop, his wolf going into somersaults of hunger and delight, Jason set some leftover gravy and mashed potatoes to warm in the microwave.
“You’re not having any?” Jesse asked, as Jason piled everything onto one plate.
“Can’t face food after cooking all morning,” Jason said, grabbing a bottle of water instead.
“Yeah, well. Appreciate this,” Jesse said awkwardly as Jason headed out, throwing a wave over his shoulder.
Alone at the table, Jesse devoured the food while watching the back door. He kept wondering what Jason had meant—that pack was more than roles. And why he’d gone to the trouble of feeding someone who wasn’t part of it.
Curious, Jesse pulled out his phone, but it didn’t help. Sure, he learned about hierarchy, about how the alpha’s word was law and how bigger packs had several betas who enforced the alpha’s rules, but there was nothing about how pack felt.
If it was anything like this big, bright kitchen, the mouthwatering Salisbury steak and the feeling of care Jason had given him, then maybe it wasn’t a totally bad thing.
MATT
Matt growled in frustration, shaking his head. He wanted to rend and tear, but there was nothing out here.
He’d warned Dave and Christian, ensuring that, if there were trouble, they wouldn’t be taken by surprise, and then he’d roamed the perimeter of his territory. He’d come up with the grand result of absolutely nothing.
A quick, sharp howl summoned Karl, who gave the wolf equivalent of a shrug before they shifted to have a proper conversation.
“Don’t know what I can tell you, boss. Whatever I felt, it’s gone.”
That didn’t mean it was over. The quiet out here didn’t sit right. His territory felt... unsettled. Or maybe that was just the pressure building in his own damn chest.
“If it was the pack chasing Jesse, perhaps they’ve moved past us and missed him.”
Karl didn’t give away by gesture or word that a pack chasing Jesse was news to him. “I’ll keep watching,” he said.
Matt clapped him on one broad, capable shoulder before shifting to make the long trek back to the house. Back to Jesse. His wolf, so disappointed at the lack of an enemy, perked up at the prospect. Mine sang through his heart. Mate.
And when Matt opened the back door to find Jesse sitting at the kitchen table, his eyes warm with pleasure at seeing him, it was hard to remember all the reasons why this couldn’t happen.
“I told Jason when he got in,” Jesse said, thankfully interrupting Matt’s thoughts. “Figured he should know there might be trouble.”
He’d done what any member of the pack would do.
“Good,” was all Matt said, though a warmth lit inside him. Especially at the way Jesse moved to the machine and started fixing Matt a coffee just the way he liked it—strong and black.
Jesse poured himself one as well, and then followed Matt through to the den.
None of the pack would venture in there uninvited, and Matt wanted some space.
Not from Jesse, he was surprised to find.
Jesse was restful to be with. Which made no damn sense—he was infuriating and contrary as hell.
But something in Matt was able to relax with him.
Placing his coffee on the desk, Matt slouched in his armchair.
It was only midafternoon, and he was already exhausted from the circles he and his wolf had been running in, fighting over Jesse.
He massaged his temples, willing his burgeoning headache away.
Fear had been nipping at his heels ever since Karl had told him what he suspected.
Fear that history would repeat itself, and he’d get his pack slaughtered.
“Being alpha seems like a hell of a responsibility,” Jesse said. “Why d’you do it?”
Surprised at the question that had come out of nowhere, he glanced over at Jesse, who’d curled up in the other armchair, feet tucked under him as he clasped his mug in his hands.
Maybe he saw Matt’s surprise, because he gave a little shrug. “You look tired. I was reading about packs earlier, and I just thought—I see why alphas of big packs do it, all the money and power they can get, but six shifters? What’s the point in all that worry?”
Matt picked up his coffee, giving him an excuse to hide his face. Jesse was looking at him, head tilted to one side, curiosity in his sharp blue eyes. Not just curiosity. He was examining Matt as if he wanted an answer. As if he were trying to figure Matt out.
“It just happened,” Matt deflected.
Jesse made a soft sound that Matt couldn’t interpret. “That didn’t answer my question.”
Damn. Matt hadn’t expected Jesse to push. Most people took his word as final. He rolled his shoulders, attempting to dispel his tension. He was not going down this road, the one that led to the past. Not ever, and definitely not with Jesse Turner, who’d already gotten under his skin.
“Because someone had to.” His words were clipped.
Jesse didn’t seem to hear the finality in his tone, closing down this conversation. His gaze was fixed firmly on Matt’s face, those perceptive eyes of his seeing too much.
Matt had the sudden, absurd thought that if Jesse asked again, he might actually answer. So he did the only thing he could. Standing, he picked up his almost full mug.
“You want another coffee?” he asked, already moving.
And Jesse let it go.
* * *
While the coffee machine was working its magic, Matt began to unload the dishwasher. To his surprise, Jesse joined in.
“If you’re feedin’ me, I should help,” he said, taking some mugs and putting them away in the plate cupboard.
“They don’t go there,” Matt said.
Before he could tell him where they did go, Jesse huffed exasperatedly. “They do now,” he informed Matt, and doubled down on his statement by shoving more mugs in amongst the plates.
Matt already knew Jesse didn’t like to be told what to do or to be corrected, but he had no idea how the hell he’d survived so long without someone wringing his neck.
“I can’t let you do this to Jason’s nice, orderly kitchen. He doesn’t deserve it.” Matt reached past Jesse for the mugs, and their arms brushed.
Matt halted, every muscle drawn so tight he was almost vibrating.
Heat licked up his arm, curling in his chest. He wasn’t even breathing.
Neither was Jesse, equally locked in place beside him.
Matt’s pulse hammered as his world narrowed to a single point of focus—Jesse’s warmth against him.
Even through the soft cotton of his shirt, he could feel the burn.
The creak of the back door swinging open broke the moment. Air rushed back into Matt’s lungs, like coming up from being underwater, and the rest of the world filtered back in, extra bright, extra loud.
He turned to see Jason hovering in the doorway, looking uncertain. God, Matt thought he’d lost that look, the one that had been his constant companion when he’d first come to Matt’s pack. The one that said he knew he didn’t belong.
“Coffee?” Matt offered. Sue him, it was his go-to.
Jason wiped his feet and came in, looking more sure of himself. Maybe he’d picked up that he’d interrupted something. Matt still wasn’t looking at Jesse, who, from the sounds of it, was intent on destroying any sort of order in the cupboard he was rooting around in.
“I wanted to get started on dinner,” Jason explained.
“Anything we can do?” Matt tensed for an instant at the ‘we’ that had come out of his mouth unbidden.
“I’m good, thanks,” Jason said.
“Think that’s our cue to get out of his hair, Jesse,” Matt said.