Chapter 50 #2
“Good news: Jared doesn’t have a scent, or it’d be on you since you just hugged his mate.
Bad news? You’re about to get sticky again because you don’t just smell like me and that’s what I need.
So, go on up and take a shower because even though he doesn’t have a scent, I want Cicely’s scent off you. ”
“That’s mighty bossy of you, Jason Creed.”
I slap her backside. “And?”
Her eyes are lit up. Fuck yeah, she’s also aroused.
“And… I’ll go take a shower,” she advises. “But I also want a hot bath to soothe my muscles and feel my feelings, so I’m taking my coffee and a muffin with me. If you want to join me, you may.”
“I may?”
“Yes. Provided that you bring that cinnamon coffee cake.”
She grabs one of the take-out coffees from the cardboard tray and snatches the bakery box from me before climbing the stairs.
I’ve got zero interest in eating breakfast while in the tub, but I am very interested in bathing with my mate.
My girl was riding such a high from mating me that telling her best friend she has a wolf after all was an afterthought she almost forgot about.
Fuck, I’m a lucky guy.
***
“This isn’t making me salivate,” Bailey says, unimpressed eyes on the platter of raw meat I’m about to cook.
“Maybe once it starts cooking,” I suggest and drop the steaks on the grill.
Not even a minute later, she says, “Yep. Now I’m hungry.”
“Good sign.”
“Very good,” she agrees. “The smell of meat got this started last night. Oh! I’m feeling something.
It feels funny in my chest. Cicely once told me she didn’t feel her wolf until she’d shifted a few times, and then the connection was there, getting stronger and stronger until it didn’t feel strange anymore. Is that what it was like for you?”
“I remember the newness of the sensation just as I was shifting the first time or two, but I was real young, Bay.”
“Hm,” she ponders, watching me flip the meat on the grill.
“Won’t be long and your wolf won’t be a stranger, baby. She’ll just be part of you, part of your instinct.”
A minute later, I deem the meat sufficiently seared and add the steaks to our plates before moving them to the patio table.
It looks good back here since Bailey’s mom came over and spruced up the yard. It feels like our space back here. I decide I’m buying a hammock and putting a swing out back, changing the fencing, which needs doing anyway, giving us a better view of the river behind the house.
“Do just what you did last night,” I suggest, sitting across from her.
“What happened last night wasn’t intentional. I just saw the red and felt drawn to taste it. So…” She dips her fingertip in the red liquid pooled around her steak and looks at her finger, scrunching her face like she doesn’t want to do it.
“Close your eyes if it grosses you out,” I suggest.
She does, then puts her finger to her tongue.
“Bubbles!” is all she gets out before she shifts, vanishing inside my shirt.
I jump to my feet, looking down at the lump in my shirt on the chair. A wriggling, frustrated lump that puffs, then whines.
She’s tangled up in my shirt, stuck, but fighting to get out of it.
And last night there was a tiny spark of familiarity in my chest, like what I feel when someone in the pack shifts for the first time and my wolf recognizes theirs. Today, that spark is stronger. My wolf needs to meet Bailey’s wolf.
I lift the shirt up and Bailey’s wolf startles, then is immediately putting her front paws to the table, eating the steak.
“You want me to cut that into bites for you?” I ask.
She’s paying no attention to me. She’s going at that steak like I’m about to steal it. If I try to get in there, I’ll get bit again with those tiny, but razor-sharp baby teeth.
She doesn’t get all the way through it, only eating about a quarter of it, though she walks across the tabletop to mine and licks all the red off my plate before jumping down, missing the chair and tumbling to the deck, yelping.
“You okay?” I ask, squatting.
She gets up on her hind legs, balancing her front paws on my leg, wagging her tail and panting happily.
I ruffle the fur on her head and scratch behind her ear, but it’s cut short when something catches her attention and she’s darting to the steps that are four deep going to the next level of the deck, but halts and jumps back like the stairs make her nervous.
I can sense something in my chest. She wants at the grass.
I pick her up, tuck her under my arm, and bring her down there where she immediately puts her nose to the grass and sniffs, sneezes, then gets what can only be described as the zoomies. She’s running, ears pinned back as if it’ll make her go faster. Very fucking cute.
I’m in just sweatpants, so I take them off and turn to set them on the deck rail so I can shift and introduce her to my wolf, but before I get to it, she’s on the other side of the fucking fence!
Yep. Definitely need to fix this fence. She slipped through a two-foot gap in one corner of the yard.
“Bailey!” I call.
She looks over her shoulder at me but then chooses to ignore me, putting her nose to the ground and following along the riverbank.
I don’t have a back gate; it’s something I’ve been meaning to add so I can make use of the river without having to hop my fence.
I climb the fence, throw a leg over and shift mid-air so when I land, I land on four paws.
Fuck, she’s small. She’s a couple hundred feet away already, nose to the ground like she’s tracking something.
She spots me, stops and howls before giving up whatever she’s tracking, now running as fast as her short legs can carry her to get to me.
She’s whining, excited to meet my wolf. That spark in my chest swells as my wolf licks her face.
She yips excitedly, bucking and then pouncing with excitement before circling me, sniffing me, then pouncing and landing on her belly with her ass up in the air wiggling like she wants to play.
I regard her and I guess I don’t return the playfulness quickly enough because something catches her eye and she’s off and running, heading between two homes a few houses down from our place.
She glances over her shoulder and yips. She wants me to follow.
I follow, letting her explore but staying close.
She crosses the road between the houses four and five homes away from our place to go south and I don’t like that she doesn’t look both ways before crossing.
It’s okay, I’m directly behind her, and just as we’re halfway across the road, Riley is traveling this way on his motorcycle, so I shift to two feet and wave.
Rye stops and frowns, looking at Bailey’s wolf, who stops and sniffs the air. Erica is on the back of his bike.
She covers her eyes at the sight of my nudity.
“Bailey,” I tell them, covering my crotch for Erica’s sake.
Rye’s head jerks back in surprise.
“Oh! Oh my gosh!” Erica claps her hands with glee and Bailey’s pup startles and runs, frightened.
Erica looks horrified.
“Don’t sweat it, Erica. Her wolf just needs to sync up with her. It’ll happen. Later, guys. Better catch up and keep her out of trouble.”
Riley’s laughing as I shift back to four paws and catch up with her as she trots down her brother’s street like she knows just where she’s going, stopping every so often to sniff something. A lamp post. The fire hydrant. She picks up a stick and carries it in her mouth the rest of the way.
When we get to Grey’s house, he’s on the front lawn with a garden hose, talking to his neighbor Claire.
Grey’s eyes pivot to us and he frowns for a second before he watches Bailey’s wolf run to him, drop the stick at his feet, and jump up, putting her paws on his legs.
I shift to two feet.
“What the fuck?” Grey asks.
Bailey’s wolf changes her mind about saying hi to her brother and moves to the still flowing hose and puts her head under it, drinking it while getting drenched.
“Language, Greyson,” Claire, who is about seventy-five years old, berates.
Ironically, Claire is known for her potty mouth.
“She showed up last night,” I say. “Mating evidently triggered it.”
“Triggered what? Who’s child is this?” Claire asks. “The scent is familiar.”
“Bailey.” I gesture.
Claire frowns. “Bailey?”
Bailey’s pup backs off from the hose, shakes the water off, sits, and pants, looking between us.
“Bailey,” I confirm.
“I’ll be damned,” Grey says. “Hey, Squirt.”
She throws her head back and bellows a cute little howl. “Awoo!”
Grey cracks up.
“No synchronization whatsoever,” I say, “though I’m sure that’ll come.”
Grey squats and pats her head. “Congratulations to you two.”
He tosses the stick and she runs, grabbing it and bringing it back. As she drops it, she yips before she starts chasing her tail.
“Yes, congratulations, Jason and Bailey,” Claire says, looking down at Bailey’s crazy little pup who’s caught her own tail and is growling at it while it’s between her teeth.
“Thanks,” I say.
Bailey’s wolf suddenly pounces in the opposite direction, running for the flowerbed bordering Grey’s house, getting her face into a giant spherical pink flower with loads of petals.
She immediately sneezes, then follows a fat bee for a minute as it goes from flower to flower before we all watch her put her nose to the ground again and head down the road toward the park.
“Later,” I say, shifting back to four paws and following my mate through the park toward her parents’ place.
***
“Don’t think anybody’s home, Bay,” I tell her.
I’ve shifted back to two feet after she’s walked the perimeter of the house. Neither of her parents’ vehicles are out front and the front door is locked. I try the kitchen door and that’s locked too.
She sits and whines.
We’re in the yard now, nobody’s around, so I say, “You done for now or you want to stay like this for a while longer?”
There’s a tugging inside me and it’s a new sensation; it’s coming from Bailey.
Bailey’s wolf yawns and lies down, looking ready for a nap.
I squat and look her in the eyes. “Bailey, shift,” I command.