Chapter 7 #2
Dane’s brownies. They were fudgy on the inside and crisp on top, the exact kind I loved. He usually made just enough for everyone to have a few slices, but it was never enough for me.
“Devon,” Mark started, rubbing the back of his neck, “I just wanted to say—”
I raised a brow but said nothing.
“—I’m sorry. About the other day.”
I didn’t reply. Just crossed my arms and waited.
He sighed. “You’re really going to make me say it, huh? Come on. I brought what you asked for from the clinic. And your car too.”
My gaze flicked toward the brownies.
He groaned. “Fine. You can have my share.”
That got him a smile. “Apology accepted.” I reached for the container, breaking off a neat square. The first bite was heaven.
Somewhere down the hall, laughter echoed as Carter’s low voice mingled with Dad’s.
Levi winced. “Has he shown Carter the door knocker yet?”
Mark peeked around the doorway. “Not yet. Still on the photo albums.”
Levi groaned. “That’s worse. You better go save him, Dev.”
Dad was in the middle of a long story when I found them, something about a pack summit from decades ago.
The old photo album lay open on Carter’s lap, and Dad was pointing at faces I hadn’t seen since I was a kid.
“—and this one,” Dad said, tapping at a faded photo, “that’s the Thornebane Alpha from back then. Can’t recall his name, but way before your time.”
Carter leaned forward, the polite smile on his face so genuine it almost made me feel guilty for wanting to interrupt.
“Sorry,” I said, stepping into the room, “but I’m going to have to steal him back. He’s got to head out soon.”
Dad blinked, then looked at Carter. “Of course. Don’t want to keep you. You must be busy.”
Carter stood, closing the photo album carefully before handing it back. “Not too busy for a story like that,” he said warmly. “It’s been a while since I’ve heard firsthand stories from the older packs. Thank you for sharing them.”
Dad’s chest puffed up at that, eyes brighter than they’d been all month.
It struck me then how good it was for him to talk to a new face. How much he missed having others around.
Once, this house had been alive, full of people coming and going, laughter in the halls. Now it was just him and Mom, rattling around in all that silence.
We were wolves. We needed our pack.
We lingered a moment, then I turned back to Carter.
As we stepped outside, the late morning air was cool, sunlight filtering weakly through the mist that hung over the trees.
Carter’s truck gleamed faintly where it was parked by the old gravel path.
“Thanks for coming,” I said a little awkwardly. “And for being so nice to them.”
He shrugged. “They’re good people. You’ve got a nice home here.”
“It is,” I said, then sighed. “But Dad doesn’t want to leave. I’ve been trying to convince them to move to Pecan Pines, but they’re both too stubborn.”
Carter smiled faintly. “He seems to love this place. And his old pack.”
“Yeah,” I muttered, bitterness slipping through before I could stop it. “Not like that’s going to help him.”
He didn’t comment, just looked around at the trees that surrounded the property.
“Air’s good here, though. You can feel it. Must help a bit with his health.” He inhaled deeply. “Can’t say I’d mind living somewhere like this.”
I huffed out a laugh. “Not for me.”
He tilted his head, curious.
“I only see gloomy trees and heavy fog. And I’m sick of the smell of pine.”
As I said it, something else caught my nose. It was a faint, clean scent. It reminded me of water, like rain over rocks. Subtle but sharp, fresh in a way that made my wolf perk up instantly.
I frowned, trying to place it, wondering if maybe the breeze had shifted from the nearby lake. But no, the scent was closer. Warmer.
Carter glanced at me, and I tried not to look too long at the exact shade of his eyes, now a deep, rich blue.
“So, if not this," he said, gesturing around at the trees and mountains, “what’s your thing?”
“I like places near water,” I said after a beat. “Feels more open there.”
He nodded slowly. “Like the one near Maria’s place?”
“Yeah.”
“You know,” he said, looking amused, “my cabin’s actually near there too.”
I blinked. “Really?”
“Guess you didn’t notice. The path to the lake is hidden behind the shed and some trees.”
He paused. “If you’ve got time before you leave, maybe we could take a walk down there.”
The sunlight hit his face just right, catching in his eyes until they looked almost translucent. Too bright. Too easy to get lost in.
“Maybe,” I said, quieter than I meant to.
His gaze flicked down at my mouth and then back to my eyes. The faintest tug at his lips, somewhere between a smile and uncertainty, made my chest tighten again.
He leaned even closer, just enough that I could feel the warmth of his shoulder brushing mine. My breath hitched, pulse spiking.
And then he stopped.
He glanced back toward the house. Something flickered in his expression, a hesitation.
My wolf growled low and frustrated. My hands twitched at my sides, yearning to close the gap, to ignore the polite boundaries and just do it.
“Carter?” Mom’s voice rang from the front porch. She’d spotted us lingering by the truck. “You’re still here! You’ll stay for lunch, won’t you?”
Carter jumped slightly, just enough to snap me out of my daze.
He cleared his throat. “Uh—”
She waved. “Come on in! I’ll whip something up!”
He hesitated, caught between politeness and escape. “I shouldn’t—”
“Trust me,” I said, resigned. “You’ll lose that argument.”
And sure enough, one lunch turned into an afternoon of conversation and laughter, which somehow stretched into dinner. Dad brought out old bottles of something “for guests,” and Carter, ever the good sport, listened to every story he told.
When night fell, Dad gave a gentle nudge. “Don’t let him drive in the dark. Stay the night, Carter.”
Carter hesitated, like he didn’t want to be an imposition. Mom leaned over, smiling warmly. “I’ll make you breakfast before you go.”
I don’t think I’d ever seen a lead alpha fold so fast.
There was something disarmingly sweet about it, watching this man who could command a whole pack get gently steamrolled by my mother’s hospitality.
By the time the house went quiet and everyone had gone to bed, I found myself still awake.
I’d gone to check if Carter needed an extra blanket, though if I was honest with myself, that wasn’t really why I was standing in the entryway to the living room.
He was by the window when I cleared my throat softly. He turned at the sound.
“Can’t sleep?” he asked.
“Not really.” I nodded toward the phone in his hand. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Managed to reschedule the plumber.”
I nodded, feeling that familiar tug of guilt. He’d already bent over backward to help my family, and now even rescheduling appointments was just another way he was taking care of things.
I shifted slightly. “I’m… a little hungry. Want to come grab a snack with me?”
He hesitated, then nodded. “Sure.”
We moved to the kitchen together. My wolf hummed softly beneath my skin, alert and restless at Carter’s closeness. That familiar, fresh scent, like water over stones, wrapped around me again.
Finally, I understood. It was Carter. It had been him all along.
My chest warmed at the thought, and I had to shake it off before I did anything impulsive.
I opened the fridge, scanning quickly, and my eyes landed on a container with Levi’s name on it. I took two slices of brownies, handing one to Carter.
“Thanks,” he said, leaning against the counter.
“You’ve been really patient with my family today,” I said. “I’m surprised you didn’t bolt hours ago.”
He chuckled, low and quiet. “I didn’t mind it.”
The air between us shifted. Softer. Heavier. For a moment, all I could hear was the hum of the fridge and the beat of my heart, too loud in the quiet kitchen.
He tilted his head slightly, the corners of his mouth curving in that easy way that always made my chest ache.
I didn’t remember who moved first. One second he was standing by the counter, and the next, he was close enough that I could see the faint shadow of his lashes and the way his throat worked when he swallowed.
He reached up and brushed a stray curl from my forehead, the same small gesture from this morning, with that stupid leaf.
Something inside me tightened then, a rush of need I hadn’t let surface all day.
I didn’t think. I just leaned in, and this time, he met me halfway.
His lips were soft, uncertain at first, exploring gently. I caught my breath, hands finding his shoulders, grounding myself in the warmth of him. His scent, clean, cool, and so familiar now, washed over me, making my head spin.
Carter’s lips parted slightly, inviting, and I followed, brushing mine against his. It deepened naturally, lips and tongue moving in slow, careful rhythm.
His hands gripped my back, one sliding lower, the other pressing firmly between my shoulder blades until I was flush against him, like he meant to memorize every inch of me right then and there.
When we finally broke apart, I leaned back slightly, still close enough to feel the heat of him. Carter’s fingers lingered at my waist, thumb brushing lightly. My wolf growled, deep and satisfied.
“I’ve been waiting for that all day,” I murmured, more to myself than to him.
He chuckled softly, a sound that made my chest squeeze in a pleasant ache. “You’re not the only one.”
And when he leaned in again, I didn’t stop him.