Chapter 3
Lily
Ifreeze in the kitchen doorway, my feet glued to the floor.
Because the big, scary guy—the thunderbolt god, as I’ve been thinking of him while I was, uh, naked in the shower—has stripped off his leathers and is leaning casually against the sink, in a pair of low-slung black jeans and a black T-shirt with the sleeves torn off.
Holy fucking crap. What a pair of arms. Huge, bulging biceps and massive, thickly corded forearms, deeply tanned and covered in tattoos.
My nipples burn beneath my bra, and there’s a weird, prickly feeling in my chest. He’s stupidly hot. Too hot to be real.
He frowns. He’s probably wondering why I’m staring at him. Scratch that. He’s probably used to women gawking at him like that, but he’s wondering why his best friend’s daughter is looking at him with undisguised lust in her eyes.
“Nice tattoos,” I blurt out, focusing my attention on the fork of lightning that runs from his shoulder to his elbow. The lightning glows like the real thing, and seems to burst from the purple storm clouds that surround it. Kind of apt.
“Thanks,” he says, carelessly. “You hungry?”
“Starving,” I admit. “For something that’s not junk food, anyway.”
He indicates a bunch of Tupperware. “See if you like any of this. Or I can get delivery.”
I throw him a sideways glance, my impressions of him shifting at breakneck-speed. I’m not used to guys being kind, accommodating. In my family home, women are around to serve men. That was made clear to me from a young age.
My stomach growls. “This smells amazing,” I say.
He nods, pleased. “Mary, the chef at the territory, is the best.” I watch as he dumps the food on a tray and bends to put it in the oven, his powerful thighs flexing beneath his jeans.
I bet he’s all muscle. Big, bulky sexy muscle, from head to toe.
Suddenly I’m picturing him naked, and my cheeks flame.
I shake myself, clear my throat. “Territory?” I echo.
“Yeah. It’s a couple of hours away.”
“You don’t live in this town?”
“Not anymore.” He straightens up and flashes a half-smile, and his ridiculous handsomeness takes my breath away. He looks dark, dangerous, bad. But then there’s a hint of something softer underneath it. The boy he used to be. I wonder what happened to change him.
“I used to live next door.” He tilts his chin off to the right. “Nowadays I ride up here every couple of weekends to check on the place. Hire someone to keep the backyard nice. But my home is with a bunch of savage wolves.”
“You’re an Alpha,” I say.
“Yup.”
I stare at him in undisguised awe. Of course, a being as big and powerful as him couldn’t be anything else. But an Alpha who doesn’t show off about it? Interesting. “But you lived here in town?”
“I didn’t know I was going to be an Alpha as a kid. Long story.”
I open my mouth to say I’d like to hear it. But it’s none of my business. “Can you give me a tour of the house?” I ask instead.
His expression turns soft. “Sure can.”
He points out the downstairs bathroom, the storage cupboard and the dining room.
This time, I’m not picking up the scent he left behind in the house—because the man himself is right beside me, close enough to make my skin prickle.
I’m so aware of his presence, like he’s a magnet and I’m a bunch of iron filings, being tugged toward him.
In the living room, I take in the cozy-looking armchairs and couches, and the bookshelves which fill an entire wall of the room.
I give a little gasp. “These are my mom’s books?”
“Yup. She was a real bookworm.”
I rush over delightedly and run my hands over the old volumes. “She used to love The Chronicles of Narnia,” I say, imagining her snuggled up on the couch with a cup of coffee, book open on her lap.
He comes to join me, peering at the shelves. “You mean this one?” He pulls out an old, leather-bound volume.
I open it and sigh. It’s beautifully illustrated. “A first edition?”
He nods.
“How did you know—?”
There’s a trace of bashfulness in his eyes. “It was a gift from me.”
“Oh, wow,” I whisper and my eyes tear up.
After all my father put her through, I’m so glad that she had this love and friendship when she was younger.
My father treated her like little more than a servant.
But someone once thought a lot of her. She used to speak so fondly of her childhood, how cozy her home was.
I wish so much it hadn’t been ripped away from her.
Vaughn’s eyebrows tug together. “You miss her a lot, don’t you?”
I nod, too choked up to speak.
“You’ll have time to read all her books now.”
“Yeah.” I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. “Geez, I’m sorry.”
His frown deepens. “What for?”
I blink. He’s not mocking me for getting emotional, like my dad does. Calling me a pathetic female. He looks sympathetic. Like he’s just as sad as I am.
The day after my mom died, dad threw all her stuff out. When I got home from my driving lesson, he’d hired some guys, and it was all gone. All the precious things I’d wanted to keep and remember her by.
“For being kind,” I say at last.
Something shifts in Vaughn’s eyes and I see now that they’re not pure black, but rich chocolate brown.
“You deserve all the kindness in the world, Lily,” he says.
My heart flutters like a bird’s. And for a stupid moment, I long to be held in his arms again, enveloped by his huge, powerful body.
He turns back to the books. “And I’m real glad Elizabeth passed her passion on to you.”
“I always wanted my own bookshop,” I say quietly. It’s true; it’s something I’ve always dreamed of, but never said aloud to anyone before.
A smile pulls at his lips. “I think you should make that a reality.”
He turns and exits the room, and I follow him dazedly. How is it this stranger makes me feel capable, like a better version of myself?
We go upstairs. When we arrive at the master bedroom, he hangs back. “Where I sleep when I’m staying here,” he says gruffly.
“I’m so glad you’ve been looking after this place,” I tell him.
He rubs at the nape of his neck. “Guess I could ride here and back to the territory in the same day. But it’s usually late by the time I get away—” He breaks off. “To tell the truth, I like to stay, leave my scent here. Put off anyone who might think about moving in.”
I glance at the comforter and pillow for the second time today, and a weird kind of yearning goes through me. I imagine being in this bed with him. Imagine him stripping my clothes off. Taking my virginity…
Heat floods my face and chest and I take a big step out of the room. Gotta stop thinking these dirty thoughts about my mom’s old friend. I mean, he’s practically my uncle.
Except he feels nothing like a family member. He feels like… like he sets my body on fire. Like my soul is calling out for him…
He touches my shoulder and I jump.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”
“You didn’t,” I say, but automatically, my hand moves to the warm spot that his fingers left behind. His touch is pure electricity.
“There are three more bedrooms this way.” He leads me along the corridor. “A guest room.”
I poke my head in. It’s dusty. Guess it hasn’t been used in a long, long time.
The next is the room of a small child, full of primary colors and chunky toys.
“Thomas’s room—the younger kid.”
“Uncle Tommy? Oh my god,” I breathe.
Vaughn’s head snaps toward me. “How’s he doing?” his tone is cautious, as if worried I’m going to tell him something he doesn’t want to hear.
“He left the territory. Something like ten years ago,” I say. “I was pretty young. My mom hasn’t heard from him since, and I know she worried about him a lot.”
“Why did he leave?”
I shrug. “Same reason as me. He was a young human guy, and he was being bullied by assholes.”
“He was a real sweet kid. Used to talk a hundred miles a minute.” Vaughn’s lips tug into a wistful smile. “Always with the why? questions. I sure hope he’s doing okay.”
“Mom said he ran away. He didn’t get killed by the pack or anything. She always used to say she believed he was still alive.”
Vaughn nods, sadness and anger warring in his dark eyes. “Their father screwed them all over,” he mutters through clenched teeth.
He leads me onto the next room. “And Elizabeth’s room.” I don’t miss his more intimate tone.
“Go on,” he tells me, when I hesitate on the threshold.
I step into the room, my feet sinking into a fluffy area rug, and give a sigh.
It’s a beautiful space. Full of old-school toys—a rocking horse, a bunch of old stuffed bears, board games—while the walls are decorated with band posters from way back when.
The curtains are pink and gauzy and there’s a dreamcatcher hanging between them.
It reminds me of the way my mom decorated my own room when I was a kid.
“We used to spend a lot of time in here when we were small.” Vaughn picks up a toadstool ornament and turns it over.
“You did?”
“Yup.” He breaks into a grin—a real expression of happiness. He gets a faraway look, like he’s replaying their shared history, and I stare at him, wishing I was privy to whatever movie is playing in his head.
“Playing games, all the time,” he mutters, after a long silence.
“Building houses out of cardboard boxes, blindfolded hide-and-seek. Mini-Olympics. Elizabeth was the best at coming up with ideas for new games. Think we were pretty boisterous. We played a ton of word games, too. She was real smart, but she’d let me win now and then. ”
“Same,” I say, and my heart lifts at this shared experience of my mom.
He looks around with a sigh. “Some of my happiest memories are from this old room…” A dry laugh escapes his lips. “That is, until I got to about twelve and her dad banned us from being alone together.”
I blink. “Did you… did she ever…?” I stutter, not sure exactly what I’m asking. And even less sure that I want to hear the answer.
There’s that sexy half-smile of his again. “Nope. We were just good friends. I always knew she wasn’t my mate.”