Chapter Thirty-five
KARL
After leaving Matt, Karl went to find Colby, who was exactly where he should be at that time of day. Karl hadn’t expected anything else from him.
Colby’s face lit up when he saw him, only for a small frown to replace his smile as Karl closed the distance between them. He’d caught the unevenness in Karl’s gait that Karl was trying to hide.
“Good to have you back,” he said, then hesitated. “You okay?”
“More or less.” Karl leaned against the sun-warmed wall of the barn, watching the yard while they waited for the shift change.
Leon was under the big tree with Luna, heads close, deep in conversation.
Each time Karl looked at him, something thrummed deep inside, heat coiling low in his gut while his wolf murmured in the back of his mind. Mine.
He dragged his attention back to Colby, patiently waiting and obviously unwilling to let Karl get away without answering properly. Well, that was interesting—perhaps having to assume control in Karl’s absence had been good for his confidence.
“Hurt my leg a few days ago,” Karl said. “It’s fine, just complaining about the run home.”
Home. He wasn’t sure he’d called the ranch, the pack, that before. It sounded good. “What’ve I missed?”
Colby shook his head. “Nothing major. Matt was planning to send someone after you if you weren’t back today. I’d lined up Tom and Christian with Ava. They’ve been working together, learning how each other thinks.”
“Good,” Karl said. “If you still want to test-run a cat-wolf combo, there’s a stash box along the riverbank that we didn’t get to put away.” His gaze flicked back again to Leon. Any excuse. “See if Leon’s okay with it first. He might not want one of his cats off-site while Luna’s here.”
“I’ve actually been integrating them into our patrols,” Colby said.
“Yeah?” Karl looked at him, surprised. He probably should have done that himself, but he’d been so tied up in his mistrust of cats in general and Leon in particular, he’d sooner have wrestled an angry skunk.
Colby shifted self-consciously. “I mean, I’m not sure how well it’s going. Half the time they wander off. Or climb trees.”
Karl snorted a laugh. “Yeah, they do that. Listen, I’m gonna get clean. Matt’ll call everyone in soon for a briefing, once he’s talked to Jesse.”
Colby just nodded, not pressing.
“You did good,” Karl said, and meant it. Then he pushed off the wall and started toward—damn. His cabin would still be full of cats.
Jason and Riley’s bunkhouse it was. He could get a shower there and finally put on clothes that actually fit.
* * *
He felt better after a shower, the warm water easing the ache in his leg.
His hair, though—that was a tangled mess.
He snorted as he realized he’d been spending way too much time with Leon for that thought even to cross his mind.
It was just, it hadn’t been combed in a while, and he ended up using some of Riley’s expensive-looking conditioner to try and smooth the way for the comb.
He knew it was Riley’s rather than Jason’s because the guy still appeared each morning looking as if he’d strolled out of a Ralph Lauren ad, even if his plans for the day were sitting alone at a desk, working on his book.
It was nice stuff, making his hair look kind of glossy, and it smelled like coconut, only better.
As he looked in the mirror, he took a moment. He usually did the necessary ablutions, dragged on some clothes, and went about his day. But something—and he wasn’t sure if it was a slight edge of nerves or just pride—made him want to look like someone Leon would want.
Leon had somehow managed to make even those borrowed sweats when being held prisoner look good.
But when he was in his own clothes, tight enough to accentuate every single part of the lean, graceful body underneath, he looked amazing.
Not quite in a Riley way—more an I just stepped out of the nearest club way.
And God, it did things to Karl’s breathing.
It had done so when he still detested the ground Leon walked on, if he were going to be painfully honest.
Among the clothes he’d stashed here, when he’d given up his bunkhouse to the cats, was a brown lambswool sweater.
He didn’t wear it often, because it was kind of tight-fitting.
It’d been a Christmas present from Bryce, that year Bryce had decided the entire pack needed some kind of makeover.
He’d given up on that by December twenty-seventh, after they all showed up to breakfast in matching novelty Christmas PJs from the gas station, deadpan and daring him to say a word.
Karl usually preferred clothes that were a little more utilitarian, but as he smoothed it over his body, watching the way it made him look, he kind of thought it was the sort of thing Leon might wear.
Except Leon wouldn’t be wearing soft, worn-in jeans with it—his pants would be way more flattering. Still, it was the best Karl could do.
LEON
Leon spotted him instantly in the trees, sitting with his back against a trunk and looking down the long, sloping field to the house. His brown sweater, soft and clingy, caught the late light like it was made to be touched.
He’d never seen Karl wear anything that fit so closely, hugging every line of his frame and emphasizing the strength Leon already knew was there.
The jeans were faded and functional, but they gripped those powerful thighs in a way that made Leon’s mouth a little dry, hinting at the force and control coiled just beneath the surface.
And his hair—someone had clearly gone to war with the tangles.
It gleamed, subtle and glossy, with just a whisper of something sweet in the air as Leon drew closer.
He didn’t even try to fight the smirk that curled his lips.
“Well,” he said, easing down beside him, “someone’s been raiding a fashion magazine.”
Karl looked over at him, faintly wary. “Just clean, normal clothes.”
“Clean, yes. Normal?” Leon’s gaze drifted down Karl’s chest, slow and appreciative. “Absolutely not.”
Karl huffed a laugh, but didn’t look away. “You gonna keep staring at me until supper?”
“Maybe,” Leon said, his intended flirtation coming out as honest and intimate. But Karl didn’t flinch from it. His mouth twitched like he was biting back a smile.
It made something tighten in Leon’s chest, just a little.
He stretched his legs in front of him, glancing down toward the house.
The windows blazed gold with the reflection of evening light, Tristan was attempting to herd his goats off the porch, and Christian had a sack of feed over his shoulder as he headed to the ATV.
“It’s very rustic,” he said finally.
Karl laughed. “That’s one word for it.”
“No coffee shops. No clubs. No room service.”
“But it’s quiet,” Karl said, and there was something in his voice—a peace Leon hadn’t heard there before.
He glanced sideways and studied the lines of Karl’s face.
Softer now, less guarded. Still marked by years of discipline and grief, sure, but looser around the eyes.
Like something had been let go. Leon remembered the moment Karl had spoken of that old, old accident.
Maybe that had been the turning point. Or maybe it was just being home.
“It’s not the worst view I’ve ever had,” Leon said, continuing his study of Karl’s face.
Karl turned to look at him, eyebrows raised.
Leon didn’t elaborate. Just gave him a small, sly smile, and watched the understanding bloom slow and sure in Karl’s eyes.
Then, as the air between them was starting to turn electric, Jesse’s voice rang out from behind them.
“Figured I’d find you here.”
Leon suppressed a sigh, and Karl shifted beside him, adjusting his posture with the stiff care of someone whose leg was still bothering him more than he wanted to admit. Jesse dropped down beside Karl a second later and offered Leon a nod that Leon returned, casual but respectful.
“Heard you met my mom,” Jesse said, something strange in his voice. Nerves, Leon thought. “She okay?”
“She was bossy,” Leon said, instantly and honestly.
Jesse groaned. “Not enough I gotta put up with one of those already?”
“At least Matt won’t have a problem getting along with his mother-in-law,” Karl said. “They can swap tips.”
Leon watched Jesse carefully. There was curiosity and hope in his face, but something else, too. He looked almost as if he might crumple if Karl’s answer wasn’t the one he needed.
Karl must’ve seen that too. “She’s very like you,” he added.
Jesse blinked, surprised. “Yeah?”
“One of life’s warriors, refusing to let anything beat her,” Karl said. “And as kind as the day’s long, but hiding it so well no one would ever guess.”
Leon couldn’t stop himself. “You got that right.”
“Wait—she didn’t like you?” Jesse asked.
Leon suspected Jesse was struggling with the news about his mom, because from all he’d seen of him so far, he’d have expected a smartass comment rather than that confused-sounding question.
“Maybe she just doesn’t like cats,” he offered, trying to soften his statement.
“Or princes,” Karl murmured, leaning closer.
Leon elbowed him lightly in the ribs, which earned him a grin and zero remorse.
“She and Leon got off on the wrong foot, that’s all,” Karl said, probably more for Jesse’s benefit than Leon’s.
“Huh,” Jesse said. “Seems like there’s a bit of that goin’ around.”
Leon bit back a laugh.
“She’s snarky too,” Karl said. “I don’t know how it took me so long to see the similarity.”
Jesse snorted, but didn’t rise to the bait. He stood after a moment, lingering long enough that Leon saw something unguarded flash across his face.
“But she was okay?”
Karl’s voice softened. “She was well, I promise. And she’ll be happier once she sees you again.”
Some tension eased from Jesse’s frame. “’Kay then,” he said, kicking at the dirt with his boot, before turning to walk down the slope toward the house, hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans.