Chapter 20 #2
Jesse couldn’t be sure, but it looked to him like Bryce had stamped on Tristan’s foot under the table, judging by the way he winced and bit off whatever he’d been going to say. “Oh,” he said instead. “I’ll go find Christian and ask.”
He slid away from the table, and as he reached the back door, he looked back at Jesse. His eyes were questioning and puzzled.
Jesse sat very still as members of the pack came and went around him, clearing away their breakfast things, bidding one another goodbye as they headed out to work.
Matt cupped the back of Jesse’s neck with his large, warm hand.
He’d already told Jesse he had to go to work today, so now he just pressed a kiss to Jesse’s lips.
“You know where everything is,” he said. “See you tonight.”
And then Jesse was sitting alone in the kitchen.
* * *
The house was too quiet, too still. Jesse prowled through it aimlessly. He didn’t know what he was searching for, only that something was wrong inside him.
He wasn’t a member of the pack. He didn’t want to be. That was the deal, always had been. But something about the way Matt had said it, flat and final, lodged under Jesse’s ribs. Like he’d lost something he hadn’t even known he wanted.
He wasn’t pack. Wasn’t family. Wasn’t anyone’s.
He shook his head sharply, as if that could clear the thought. He needed to do something. Maybe those damn devil birds needed feeding again.
At least the chickens wouldn’t look at him like he didn’t belong.
MATT
Janice was waiting for him at the office, a bitter black coffee in one hand and something much more ominous in the other.
“I was beginning to think you were avoiding me, Sheriff,” she said, passing him the coffee. “But I know you’d never miss the deadline for the Annual Report.”
Oh, fuck. Why had Matt forced himself to leave Jesse and come in? No one would have noticed another few weeks’ absence.
She slapped the manila file down on his desk.
Janice was old school. She spent as much time on her phone as Tristan, but when it came to work, she liked everything printed out and filed.
Probably in triplicate. “Systems can be hacked. Paper can’t,” she’d said, the one and only time he’d protested the destruction of so many trees.
“I’ve marked up the sections I couldn’t complete, and I’ve drafted your commentary on the statistics,” she told him, earning a groan of gratitude.
“Janice, I could kiss you.”
“While that would make my job description more interesting, you obviously haven’t read the updated harassment guidelines.” Her eyes were laughing at him over her half-moon glasses. “I’ll keep the rest of them at bay so you can get this done, Sheriff.”
He settled down to his least-favorite part of the job, and for a few hours, he lost himself in Excel charts and tables. Around lunchtime, Bryce popped his head in. Janice must have gone to lunch, because she was about the only person in the world Bryce couldn’t charm.
“Lunch?”
“God, yes.” Then Matt looked at the amount of work he still had to do. “Rain check?”
Bryce retreated with a sympathetic sound, but twenty minutes later, he was back, bearing grease-sodden boxes.
“As you can’t come to lunch, I brought lunch to you.”
Even the smugness in Bryce’s face didn’t make him and his boxes any less welcome.
Matt swept Janice’s papers to one side, and Bryce sat down opposite him while they worked their way through pizzas that would probably have Jason weeping in despair.
But they had grease and fat and cheese, and they were just the shot in the arm Matt needed.
Even though he’d slept a long time last night, he couldn’t help wishing he was still in bed. He’d woken up that morning with something inside him finally close to peace, and Jesse pressed against him. Jesse’s scent had been everywhere—the sheets, pillows, Matt’s own skin.
He should have gotten up. Should have gotten on with the busy day ahead of him.
Instead, he’d just stayed, breathing Jesse in, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against Matt’s.
Like he belonged there. And then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, Matt had fallen asleep beside him again.
“Jesse’s not joining the pack then?” Bryce asked, through a mouthful of pizza.
Not for the first time, Matt wondered if Bryce was slightly psychic.
He concentrated hard on peeling bits of pepperoni off his slice because he liked to eat them separately.
Only when he had a small pile in front of him did he answer, by then secure that none of his feelings would leak through his words.
“He’s made it very clear he doesn’t want to stay, and he’s not interested in joining any pack.” He glanced up at Bryce. “But yeah, you were right yesterday. When the time comes for him to leave, I’ll tell him about the mate thing.”
Bryce frowned. “Maybe I’m being too logical, but don’t you think that if you tell him sooner than that, he might want to stay?”
Matt huffed. “You haven’t spent much time with him, have you?
He doesn’t believe in mates in the first place, and his independence is everything to him.
I’ve tried to tell him alphas aren’t all about control, but—” He broke off before he could give any more away, and swiftly changed the subject.
“What did you and Shannon dig up for the audit?”
Bryce followed Matt’s lead, and Jesse wasn’t mentioned again. But something inside Matt was restless. He wanted to keep Jesse in his bed and in his arms. For the first time in years, he wanted to reach for something, to have something just because it felt good.
But it didn’t matter. Jesse wouldn’t want this. The minute he began feeling trapped, he’d leave.
The thing Matt hadn’t told Bryce—couldn’t tell him because he didn’t want Bryce’s pity—was that Matt wasn’t the kind of man Jesse would stay for.
The conversation with Lindsey had changed some things, but they didn’t take away the fact that Matt was everything Jesse hated.
He was overbearing, demanding, and always in control.
Jesse liked being in charge of his own life, and honestly, that was part of what Matt most admired about him.
He wasn’t willing to give up his freedom. And most certainly, not for Matt.
* * *
Back at home, Matt hadn’t realized he’d been counting on seeing Jesse again until disappointment kicked through him on finding the kitchen empty. Deciding Jesse was probably with Missy, Matt went to take a shower and wash off the scent of the office that clung to him.
When he came back into the kitchen, he’d only just poured himself a coffee when Karl came through the door. The tension radiating from him had Matt’s wolf on edge before he even spoke. His pulse ticked up, senses sharpening, body recognizing something was wrong before his brain did.
“There’s nothing I can put my finger on, but something’s not right,” Karl said. “I’ve sent Christian and Dave out, but I’ll be happier if everyone’s out there before dark.”
Dread lurched in Matt’s gut. He’d truly thought the threat had gone—he’d let his pack down again, failed to protect them. He locked that thought away because he couldn’t let himself get distracted.
Leaning out of the back door, he rang the big brass bell that Tristan called the Bat Signal. It was mostly used to let everyone know it was mealtime, but it came in handy if he needed to call the pack together unexpectedly.
Tristan skidded into the kitchen, followed a moment later by Bryce, still shirtless and toweling his hair from his own shower.
Matt could see Jason rushing across the yard from his bunkhouse.
The only one missing was—ah, there Jesse was, wandering over from the barn.
He wasn’t hurrying. Matt clenched his jaw, unsure if Jesse was deliberately taking his time to underline that he wasn’t at Matt’s beck and call, or if he just didn’t know what the bell meant.
Once they were all together, he laid out the plan for the night, assigning sectors of their territory to the four patrols he’d identified, ensuring the less capable pack members were paired with a wolf who complemented them.
Karl, Bryce and Jason wasted no time in leaving to patrol, and then Matt was left with Tristan, looking uncharacteristically rebellious, and Jesse, whose expression he couldn’t quite decipher.
“I want to help, Matt,” Tristan said. “I’m not a kid anymore.”
Matt bit back his sharp retort because he knew Tristan’s urge came from a good place.
He also knew Tristan wouldn’t have a hope in hell against the kind of wolves Jesse had described.
The kid was only twenty but more than that, he was earnest and honest and good, without a speck of viciousness in him.
“Not this time,” he said.
Tristan’s shoulders slumped, and he slouched out of the kitchen. Hopefully to go and do some schoolwork rather than spend the night worrying.
“Kinda hard to miss you didn’t include me,” Jesse said. His voice was neutral, but when Matt met his gaze, anger was sparking. “I may not be part of your pack, but if what you said is right, that they’re following me, this is my business.”
“And that’s exactly why you’re staying in the house tonight,” Matt told him.
“I can look out for myself.” Jesse’s lip curled. “I been doing it long before coming here.”
“Remind me again how you ended up here? Bitten, chased, then taken down by Christian.”
The words had the effect Matt intended, shutting off Jesse’s complaint, but the cost—Jesse’s head went back and there was deep hurt in his eyes. As if Matt had betrayed him by listing out his string of failures.
Well, some hurt feelings didn’t matter so long as they kept Jesse safe. Matt turned on his heel, ready to leave, but Jesse’s voice stayed him.
“I ain’t your pack, so I don’t gotta do what you say.” He huffed, no amusement in it. “Don’t even know why I asked.”
And Jesse was sliding past him, heading for the back door. For the gathering darkness that might be hiding an enemy pack, seeking to tear him limb from limb. Matt reached out and grabbed him.
Jesse flinched violently, a full-body jolt of panic. The shock of it ran up Matt’s arm, stopping him cold, his fingers still clamped tight.
Then Jesse stilled completely, his breathing the only movement, ragged and harsh like it might rip him apart.
“Jesse,” Matt said, low and urgent, trying to undo what he’d just done, but still not letting go. “I’m trying to keep you safe, damn it.”
Jesse looked down at the hand clamped on his arm, then up into Matt’s eyes. “Got a funny way of showing it, maulin’ me like that.” The words were sharp, but Jesse’s voice trembled. Matt had really triggered something.
“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Matt ground out. “Why the fuck can’t you listen to me? Just once?”
Jesse snarled, his wolf flaring in his eyes, wild and dangerous. The shift in energy was so sudden it brought Matt’s own wolf to the surface, ready to fight, but he caught it in time. Jesse wasn’t attacking. Not yet. He was reacting to being restrained.
“You got no damn right,” Jesse flung at him.
Something in Matt snapped. “I’ve got every damn right,” he growled, voice low and rough, alpha in every word. “This is my house, my territory, and you’re my mate.”
The words were out before Matt could stop them. Christ. He froze.
So did Jesse, staring at him, unbreathing. Fear flickered over his face before it hardened into fury. Then he yanked free. This time, Matt let him.
“Nice line of manipulation you got going there, Urban.” Jesse’s voice was bitter, his eyes sharp with disgust. “Grabbin’ me didn’t work, so you try fairy tales?”
Matt dragged a hand through his hair, somehow resisting the urge to beat his head against the nearest wall for not keeping his damn mouth shut. “I shouldn’t have dropped it on you like that. When I come back, we’ll talk. But for tonight, I need you here, watching out for Tristan.”
“Why the ever-loving fuck do you think I care what you need?” Jesse’s voice was ice.
“Because you’ve got a brain, and you know going out there puts you in danger. Please, Jesse.”
Something in Jesse, the hard, obstinate thing that had been worse than a brick wall as Matt had battered against it, disappeared. Matt didn’t know why, but he’d take it.
“Guess I better get my colorin’ books out if I’m on babysitting duty,” Jesse muttered. His tone was sour, but the snark was back—and with it, a sliver of hope that things weren’t broken beyond repair.
Matt would have to try and fix it tomorrow. If he could.
Tonight was about keeping Jesse and his pack safe.