Chapter 15
ROY
She’d been talking about me when I walked into the room. I didn’t know who she was talking with on the phone, but my wolf liked that she was sharing me with someone. At least right up until she said, “Maybe he’d move to Denver to be with me.”
Move to Denver?
Fuck.
I couldn’t live in Denver. It had over a million people.
It was crowded. Noisy. Too many fucking elevators.
I didn’t think I could survive any of that.
My wolf would go apeshit living in a city.
Even if we could find a place in the foothills of the Rockies to the west of the city, I’d still have trouble.
The nearby mountains were also loaded with people and their houses with views.
I needed to roam. To run on full moons. Hell, anytime I was around too many people these days, I went nuts.
The home show was in the huge convention center, except…
crowds. Concrete. Four very-far-apart walls.
I’d come to town to build my business and was gonna leave with a mate.
The sooner I could get her safe and get her the fuck out of this state, the better. Right now, I was halfway crazy, and I’d just run up and down the five flights of stairs twice to work some energy out. But stay here in Denver? No way.
I’d stopped by that mobster’s hotel room down the hall to see if I could tie up that loose end for Brooke.
By loose end, I meant snapping his neck, too.
If he was dead, he sure as hell couldn’t fuck with my mate any longer.
Unfortunately, the room was empty. The housekeeping cart had been parked outside with the door propped open.
I’d poked my head in, and there was no sign of anyone still occupying the suite.
No scent except for cleaning products and air freshener.
Dammit. I pumped some shampoo from the wall dispenser in my palm then washed my hair as my brain kept spinning.
With the assholes checked out, it still meant they might still be looking for Brooke. Not might, were. They’d known where she lived. It wasn’t hard information to get from her company’s HR department.
It was time to talk to her about next steps to get her out of this mess. I also needed to follow up with the Denver pack alpha and his guy in law enforcement about the dead bodies I’d left at her place. I trusted Rob to get it taken care of, but my mate was involved, and I had to ensure her safety.
I finished with my shower and stepped out, wrapping a towel around my waist before walking out into the suite.
Brooke stood at the large floor-to-ceiling window still in the hotel bathrobe, looking out. Fuck, she was pretty. I could see her looking out the window of my cabin and staring at the mountain view instead of the city laid out before us.
I walked up behind her and settled my hands on her hips. I couldn’t resist leaning down and kissing the side of her neck. She had my scent on her, which made my wolf very fucking happy. “Are you okay?”
She turned and gave me a weak smile. “Other than the dead guys at my house and the money laundering rap I’m facing?”
I hated that she was bothered by this. By anything. “Hey. We’re going to straighten all that shit out. I promise.” I vowed.
She turned back to the window and looked out. “I can’t believe this view. It’s so beautiful.” It seemed she either didn’t believe me or didn’t want to talk about it, so she changed the subject.
I didn’t think the view was amazing. I thought it was stifling. Instead of saying that, I only made a noncommittal sound which sounded awfully like a growl.
“You see those lofts across the street?” she asked, lifting her hand.
I followed her pointing finger. There was a building below us with rooftop gardens and balconies. “Yeah.”
“If I could pick any place in Denver to live, that would be my dream home.”
I almost choked on my own spit. That? That was her dream home? A high rise in the middle of downtown Denver?
Fuuuuuuuuuck.
My mate was an urbanite. A city girl. And I was a country boy.
On the phone, she’d said maybe I’d move to Denver, and her dream house wasn’t even a place in the suburbs near open land. It was a highrise in the city.
This…was bad. My mate’s dreams were so different from mine.
It wasn’t like we disagreed on whether the orange juice was pulpy or pulp-free or chunky versus smooth peanut butter.
This was being with my mate here in Denver and losing my shit or not being with my mate being back on my mountain in Cooper Valley and losing my shit.
There was no winning.
But, hell, what was I going to do? She was my mate. If I couldn't convince her to come with me to Montana, I’d have to stay. There was no other option. I couldn’t survive without my mate. I’d go Moon Mad.
The trouble was, I wasn’t sure I could survive here in Denver with her, either.
That might drive me just as feral or worse than Moon Madness.
I cleared my throat. “What…uh, what about it do you love?”
“I love the city feel. And they’re super luxurious. I toured one once. Not that I can afford it. But my dream would be to have my own loft, not a rented place. Something I could build equity in.”
I leaned down–way down–and set my chin on her shoulder.
“Yeah, I get that. My brother used to be a financial guy. Used to work on Wall Street in New York. He’s all about building equity.
He made sure I invested every dollar of my military pay the entire eight years I was enlisted.
I was able to save up a decent nest egg, and with his consistent help, it’s continued to grow. ”
“That’s what I want although I don’t have an investment-savvy brother.” She turned to face me, her hands coasting over my abs, exploring my skin. I wanted to devour her. Throw her on the bed and eat her pussy until she screamed again. But I also wanted to listen.
I needed to get to know my mate, so I could understand what made her tick. How I could satisfy her beyond orgasms. How I could convince her to let me stay with her. How she could be mine. Or how I could be hers.
“My dad left us when I was a baby. I don’t remember him.
Growing up, my mom always looked to a man for financial stability, and it backfired every time.
I gave up counting the number of times she told me she’d found The One .
” Shadows moved across her face, and I wanted to chase them away.
“She never worked. She had this idea that a man was supposed to take care of her–of us–so she was always looking for the next meal ticket. She made some really awful choices.”
I frowned. “Did any of them…hurt you?”
Because if they did, I would fucking rip them to shreds. I needed names.
She let out a surprised chuff of laughter. “Why? Would you kick some ass?”
“Damn straight.”
She laughed again, like I was joking. “No, nothing like that. Just scary, unstable situations. Narcissists and controlling men. Throw in a couple sexist pigs who thought having a Korean woman in the house meant he’d be waited on hand and foot.
” Brooke rolled her eyes. “My mom wasn’t having that.
She wanted to be doted on and cared for, not the other way around. ”
I studied her. “So did you have to do a lot of caring for her?”
There were a lot of kids who acted more of a grownup than their parents who couldn’t take care of themselves.
I didn’t like the idea that this was how Brooke had grown up.
Dealing with a mother who was always looking for something bigger and better without the hard work to go with it and the men who she expected to give it to her had to have been fucking rough.
It made sense now why she was so focused on her work. How it was something sturdy. Dependable. That would always be needed. She had job security in accounting.
The clouds returned to Brooke’s face. “Yeah. Sometimes. And it doesn’t take three years of therapy to figure out that’s why I became an accountant. I was looking for something quiet and stable. Numbers don’t lie, and everyone’s got to pay their taxes.”
She said exactly what I’d been thinking.
“A safe, controlled environment,” I replied. “Low risk, job, and income security. That makes sense.”
My sweet, beautiful mate. I’d give her all the safety and structure she could ever need, if she’d just let me take care of her.
“So that’s why I want to own my own little city loft. I need to know I can take care of myself, you know? I don’t want to be like my mom and rely on someone else.”
Right. She didn’t want me to take care of her. She wanted to take care of herself. Got it. It didn’t subdue my desire to be there for her though. If she wanted to stand on her own two feet, that was fine, as long as I stood right beside her.
“I definitely see a woman who can take care of herself,” I affirmed. My filthy mind instantly went to very dirty ways she could take care of herself, like letting me watch as she got herself off.
Except before I could suggest it, there was a knock on the door. Brooke went rigid, and I went still, trying to use my powerful hearing to pick up anything.
“Take your bag into the bathroom and get dressed, sugar,” I said, dropping my arms from her and going to the door. If we had to run, I wasn’t having her do that in a robe.
Through the peephole, I saw a man. Even distorted, I could tell he was big.
Broad. He wasn’t dressed like the last man who’d knocked on the door, the big fucker who’d been after Brooke.
Then I caught his scent, even through the closed door.
I didn’t know who the hell he was or why he was here, but I did know one thing.
He was a shifter.