Chapter Four
Patrick fell into a deep slumber. He was utterly sated, mind, body and soul. The events of the day slipped from his thoughts and he was happy to exist in the blackness of sleep, knowing Greg was at his side and would never let anyone harm him.
When he woke the next morning, the sheet tangled around his feet and the air fresh on his naked body, he found Greg on the floor in his dog form.
“Hey,” Patrick said, extending his arms over his head, pointing his toes and giving his back a good stretch. “You going for your run?”
As a dog, Greg was equally huge, one of the biggest in the pack. His black hair was thick, hiding the strength beneath. His tail was also laden with fur and his chest and jaw wide. The only thing the same as his human form were his eyes. They were the same rich hazel and sparkled with passion, intelligence and bravery.
Patrick stood then walked to the bedroom door, scratching his belly as he did so.
Greg followed him past the seating area, the large fireplace and the small kitchen. His feet were silent on the wooden floor.
Patrick opened the cabin’s only door, letting in the early morning sunlight. “There you go, enjoy your run.”
Greg brushed past him, his fur soft on Patrick’s leg. He broke into a gallop, leaped the central wall then darted into the forest.
Patrick smiled and shut the door. Greg was always in a much better mood for the day if he’d had his exercise first thing. Though they’d burned a few calories the night before, of that he was certain.
His body was craving caffeine, but he ignored the stove. He’d check on the dog before making coffee.
A nugget of anxiety curled within him. He hoped to hell the dog hadn’t died overnight. There was no reason for it to, unless they’d missed some major injury, but still, Patrick hoped he wouldn’t find a corpse.
Hesitantly he opened the door to the second room. The light was dim as he stepped inside.
But the makeshift dog bed was empty.
“What the…?” Patrick frowned.
It was then he noticed the sleeping figure on the bed. The man was, like him, naked. He had long, lean limbs, his hair was bright blood-red and his skin resembled porcelain. His right eye was swollen and he had a bandage around his right arm. There was a splash of bruises along the side of his torso, scattered along his ribs.
Shifter.
Patrick shook his head. How the hell had they not known? They’d just assumed it was a domestic dog and they were doing their duty to animal welfare.
The man opened his eyes, though the right one was only a thin slit.
A wave of embarrassment slid over Patrick and he concealed his cock with his hands.
“Hey,” the man said, pushing into a sitting position.
“Who are you?” Patrick asked.
“Thanks for helping me yesterday.” His voice was low and croaky. He cleared his throat.
“You’re welcome.” He paused. “Do you want some water?”
“Yeah, please.” Patrick dashed from the room, his thoughts in jumble. There was a naked man in their house. Greg wasn’t home. What was he going to do?
Water.
He filled a tumbler then paused to pull on black boxers. He grabbed another pair.
“Here.” He set the water down on the table next to the bed. “And something…to keep you decent.”
The man didn’t reply. Instead he drank deep, closing his eyes and finishing the water.
Patrick tried not to stare at his long, flaccid cock. The flesh was delicate and pale, and his pubic hair the same violent red as his hair.
The man then reached for the boxers, stooped and pulled them on. He winced as he straightened.
“You okay?” Patrick asked.
“Yeah, just stiff from the kicking.”
“Who kicked you?”
The man frowned and leaned forward, his forearms on his knees. “Titan’s young lackeys.”
“Titan. From the Rocky Mountain Pack?”
“The very one.”
“But why would they do that to you?”
He tipped his head and studied Patrick. “You weren’t here that night, were you?”
“What night?”
“When your Alpha’s woman went missing.”
“Well, no…I was out looking for her and then I drove to Titan’s camp.”
“I came here—I’m as fast as the wind in my dog form—and spoke to Aleco.”
Patrick frowned and thought back to that night. Now that it had been mentioned, he did remember someone from Titan’s pack breaching their territory.
“It was me. I came that night.” He held out his hand. “I’m Carlos, by the way.”
“Ah, yes.” The name rang a bell. “I think I remember. But I held back—my mate, Greg, is very protective.” He shook Patrick’s hand. It was cool, the skin soft.
“I can understand why.” Carlos bit his bottom lip and ran his gaze over Patrick’s chest.
“I might not be all muscle, but I pull my weight around here.” Irritation swept through him. He’d like to be a bit more defined, tougher looking—of course he would—but that just wasn’t the way he was made.
“I didn’t mean offense. I was just saying I understand why your mate would want to keep you for himself…you’re…cute.”
Patrick’s heart fluttered, much to his annoyance. It had been years since anyone other than Greg had called him cute. And even then, never a handsome redhead. Because yes, Carlos was handsome despite the beaten-up state of him. His nose was large but dead straight, his mouth wide and soft, and he had a sprinkle of freckles over his cheeks as though tiny droplets of brown paint had been flicked at him.
“So, why did Titan’s gang go for you?” Patrick turned, opened the curtains then leaned his butt against the windowsill and crossed his arms.
“Titan found out about me coming here that night and warning Aleco, his enemy, that Titan, was getting out of control.”
“Aleco already knew that—he’d taken Julie.” Patrick huffed.
“Well, yes, but I didn’t want the Redwood Pack to think we all agreed with him. In fact, myself and the other elders found it abhorrent and inexcusable.”
“Titan was lucky to walk away with his life that night.”
“He was.” Carlos nodded. “Aleco had a good go at him. We hoped it would take him down a peg or two, slow him up, but it didn’t.” He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “If anything, it riled him up more. He’s been picking fights with packs farther north of here.”
“That’s not good to hear.
“I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news.” He ran his hand over his face as though checking the damage to his eye.
“Does that hurt?”
“A bit. Better than when they got me in that alley, though.”
“Thank goodness we found you.”
Carlos stood and straightened slowly, as though his bones and joints were aching.
“You want some coffee?” Patrick asked.
“I’d kill for some.”
“And food?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Come on, this way.” Patrick led Carlos into the kitchen area and pulled out one of the two chairs at the table. “Here, sit.”
Carlos did as instructed, rubbing his swollen hand over the bandage on his arm as he did so.
Patrick had a sudden rush of domesticity and the need to nurture. Carlos had clearly had a rough ride. And by trying to do good, stand up to an evil man, he’d gotten himself beaten up and left for dead.
It just wasn’t on.
He retrieved sausages from the fridge before tossing them into a pan then unwrapped a fresh loaf of bread from a red and white checked cloth and carved several slices. He set coffee down in front of Carlos, then sipped some himself.
A few minutes later, when Greg arrived back, the sausages were hissing and spitting and Patrick was pouring more coffee into Carlos’ mug.
Greg stood in the doorway, in his human form. The light rendered him in silhouette and his broad shoulders almost touched either side of the frame. “So, you are a shifter.”
Carlos set down his mug and stood.
“Yes.” He nodded. “Thanks for your assistance yesterday.”
“No thanks necessary.” Greg stepped into the cabin with his hand held out. “I’m Greg.”
“Carlos.”
“From the Rocky Mountain Pack, right?”
“Yes.”
Greg nodded at the chair. “Sit, you need to rest.”
Carlos sat, again as if testing which parts of his body hurt.
Greg moved over to Patrick and set his hand on his shoulder. “You okay, babe?”
His touch was reassuring and Patrick’s thoughts settled as the shock of finding another man in their house subsided. “Yes, fine. You want some of this?”
“Sure.” He stepped away and took out a box of pills. “Take these,” he said to Carlos, placing two white tablets in front of him. “For the pain.” He shrugged. “It’ll help.”
“Thanks.” Carlos knocked them back with a mouthful of coffee.
“You’ve been here before, haven’t you?”
“Yes, sir.”
Greg glanced at Patrick and raised his eyebrows.
Patrick bit on his bottom lip, suppressing a smile, and wondered if Greg was having the same fluttery feeling he’d had when Carlos had called him cute.
“No need to call me sir.” Greg puffed up his chest.
“I appreciate you taking me into your home.” He paused. “And a beautiful home it is, too.”
“Thanks.” Greg sat at the table and rested his elbows on it. “So, why’d you get a kicking?”
“I was telling Patrick here, Titan found out I’d warned Aleco about his behavior. I’m considered a traitor now, a rat. Even though many of the elders agree with me and encouraged me to come to the Redwood Pack and explain.”
“And they couldn’t help you when a beating came?”
“I was in the town alone. They jumped me. Five of them, I think.”
“Bastards.” Patrick shook his head and turned the sausages. “What kind of cowards gang up on a guy?”
“Cowards who are scared of what will happen to them if they disobey Titan, I guess.” Greg sighed. “I’ll have to go and tell Aleco you’re here.”
“Of course. And you know…I’ll be on my way, soon. Get out of your hair.”
Patrick set a plate of sausages on the table, along with bread and butter. “There’s no rush.”
“I agree, there’s no rush.” Greg stabbed at a sausage with a fork. “You need to build your strength up.” He nodded at Carlos’ arm. “And right now, you’re in no fit state to go anywhere.”
“And it isn’t as if we haven’t got room for you to stay for a few nights,” Patrick added.
“A few nights?” Carlos widened his eyes.
“Yeah, you took a hell of a lotta kicks. Sleeping rough ain’t gonna help that.”
“I appreciate it.” He glanced between them. “And I would be sleeping rough. I can’t go back there.”
Greg nodded, his brow furrowed. “That’s true. You can’t.”
Patrick reached for his coffee and watched as the two men started on the breakfasts he’d made them. He was pleased Carlos would be staying. There was something fascinating about him— not just the way he looked, so different from himself and Greg, but also his desire to stand up to a bully was impressive and his humble appreciation of their help endearing.
When the breakfast was finished, Greg announced he was going to see Aleco. “I won’t be long.”
He headed out the door.
“Thanks for breakfast.” Carlos stood and collected the plates.
“No, no, sit. I’ll do that.” Patrick rushed to take them from him.
Carlos smiled, a gentle stretch of his mouth that balled his cheeks, including the swollen one. “You’re too kind.”
“No, I’m not. You’re sick...well...battered. You know what I mean.” He ran his gaze over Carlos, taking in the hard muscles that lurked beneath his pale skin. “I...er...why don’t you take a shower? Then we can redress the gash on your arm.”
“Yeah, I might. Feel like I’ve got grit from the alley stuck on me.”
“It’s that door there.” Patrick hurried to put the plates down then scooted past Carlos. He went to the cupboard and retrieved a clean towel, then went to his chest of drawers and pulled out a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. “Here.” He passed them to Carlos, who’d followed him. “Hopefully, they’ll fit.”
“It’s good of you.”
“Don’t mention it.” Patrick waved his arm in the air. “Watch the hot water tap, it’s either freezing cold or will blister your skin off.”
“I’ll figure it out.” Carlos took the towel and clothes, smiled then slipped into the bathroom.
Patrick loitered outside the door, listening to the water splashing into the shower tray and imagining Carlos stripping naked—his long torso, tight buttocks and cock surrounded by that stunning russet hair.
He adjusted his position as his cock stiffened. “Fuck,” he muttered. The sound of the shower changed, Carlos’ body interrupting the flow of water.
Patrick closed his eyes and was struck with a vision of Carlos holding his face up to the water, eyes closed, hair slicking to his head, his lips parted, and the water flowing in then spraying out on his exhale.
He shoved his hand down his shorts and gripped his cock. What the hell was he doing getting hard over Carlos? He belonged to Greg and always would. Other men didn’t interest him.
Until now.
What was it about Carlos? Sure, he was a nice-looking, sexy guy, but there was something else. It was an elusive air of confidence, appeal, masculinity, that so few guys had. Not to mention he’d risked everything to warn the Redwood Pack about Titan and had felt the powerful need to absolve himself of his leader’s actions. That in itself was admirable and, well…hot.
Patrick gave his cock a rub, root to tip, and wondered if Greg thought of Carlos as handsome, too, or if he were just another shifter who needed help.
He moaned as his balls tightened. He could masturbate, get rid of the need, the silly little infatuation.
Yes, that’s all it is, a ridiculous crush.
The front door slammed.
“Shit.” Patrick pulled his hand from his pants and hurried to the bedroom. He sat on the bed, a book on his lap, and pretended to be deep in the story.
“Patrick?” Greg walked into the room. He paused and frowned. “You okay?”
“Yes, of course.”
Greg narrowed his eyes, then shrugged. “Aleco’s cool about Carlos staying with us.”
“Good.”
“And he remembers Carlos from that night. Says he’d known at the time it wouldn’t work out well for the guy if Titan found out he’d been here.”
“Which he did…” Patrick paused. “And I’m not sorry he’s here.”
“You’re not?”
“No, he’s a nice guy.”
Greg bit on his bottom lip and nodded. “Yeah, he is.” He shoved his hand through his hair. “He’s in the shower, yeah?”
Patrick nodded.
“When he’s done, if he’s up for it, I’ll take him out in dog form, let him catch the camp scents.”
“Good plan.”
“You sure you’re okay, babe?”
“Yeah. Really. Just want to read for bit, I’m tired.”
“I’ll leave you to it then.” Greg smiled, though he still appeared a little puzzled, and left the bedroom.
Patrick swung his legs onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling. What the hell was going on with his heart and his libido? Carlos’ arrival had thrown his previous harmonious existence into the air. How would the pieces land? And would he survive it?