Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
LIZZY
My whole body is numb as Chase leads me into his house. It’s dark inside, but as soon as he turns the lights on, a feeling of absolute safety envelops me.
His cabin is larger than mine but still cozy. Native-print rugs cover the hardwood floors, and there’s a big leather sofa positioned in front of a wood-burning stove. Everything is clean and modern, but the pine accents and wood coffee table give the cabin a rustic feel.
“Make yourself at home,” he rumbles, going into the kitchen. I hear the clang of metal on metal, and I sink down on the couch. There’s a click of the range igniting, then a clatter of mugs on the counter.
I must have been shivering, because at some point, Chase comes over and drapes a soft blanket over me.
My mind feels strangely empty as I look around his cabin. There are a few photographs — mostly him and a beautiful blonde with long wavy hair and bright blue eyes.
A sour feeling leaches into my gut, but I shove it away. It’s irrational, this jealousy. Chase and I only just met. He’s been especially kind to me, but that’s all. I have no claim on him. No right to feel jealous.
Then the couch cushions sink down beside me, and Chase presses a warm mug into my hands.
“Thank you,” I say, bringing it to my lips. It’s herbal and slightly sweet — chamomile tea.
Chase sips his own and makes a face, setting his mug down on the coffee table.
“You’re not a tea drinker, I take it.”
He shakes his head. “My sister drinks this stuff when she’s pregnant.” He nods at the nearest photo of him and the blonde. “My brother-in-law called me earlier. Said she was in labor. I went over there to watch their other kids. That’s why I was gone.”
Warmth spreads in my chest as the details fall into place. The woman in the photographs isn’t a girlfriend. She’s his sister. Studying the pictures with that in mind, I can almost see a resemblance, though Chase’s hair is much darker.
“You were babysitting?” I ask, unable to fight a smile at the image of the big, burly marine handing out juice boxes and changing diapers.
He grins. “I thought I was gonna be there for the rest of the night, but it turns out it was a false alarm.”
I fight back a shudder as I imagine what could have happened if he had stayed at Riley’s.
“It’s okay,” he says in a low voice. “You’re safe. That guy is never gonna bother you again.”
I attempt a smile that feels all wrong. I wish I could believe that, but I know Bryce. He’s not going to give up, especially now that his pride has been wounded.
“What about you?” he asks. “Any siblings?”
I shake my head. “My mom left when I was little. Then it was just me and my dad until . . .” My throat clogs with emotion, and I try to swallow it down.
“He was a cop, and one night . . . He responded to a call about a domestic disturbance. The guy was having a fight with his girlfriend, and things got physical. When my dad came, the man pulled a gun and shot him. I was fourteen.”
A dark look passes through Chase’s eyes. “I’m sorry. Where did you live after that?”
“Lots of places.” I shrug. “Foster homes. Nothing horrible like you hear about, but . . .” I lick my lips. “No one was ever looking out for me after my dad died. No one cared where I was, if I was making good grades, if I was safe. It was . . . lonely.”
My cheeks heat at the confession. The pitiful truth of what my life has felt like since he died.
Chase looks at me — really looks at me — and the way those blue eyes burn, I sense that he understands.
“My mom passed away when I was young,” he murmurs. “Cancer. After that, my dad was . . . pretty checked out.” He licks his lips. “It’s not the same as actually losing him, though.”
“There’s more than one way to lose a parent.”
He nods and runs a hand through his hair.
“Did you ever try to reconnect with your mom?” he asks.
I let out a bitter laugh. “Would you?”
“Probably not.”
“I’m sure social services tried to get in touch with her at some point, but . . .”
A muscle works in Chase’s jaw.
“She didn’t want me.”
“Her loss,” he murmurs, his expression soft as he studies me curled up on the couch with my tea clutched in my hands.
Things are feeling heavy and charged when he gets up and goes to the kitchen, returning with the most enormous container of ice cream I’ve ever seen. Wordlessly, he hands me a spoon, then sets it down between us and pulls the top off.
“Mint chocolate chip,” I say. “Good choice.”
“Thank you.”
Smiling slightly, I dip the spoon in and take a bite. The bittersweet chocolate explodes on my tongue, and I feel marginally better. Chase takes a bite next, and something inside me seems to lighten.
While we eat, he tells me about his family. How he joined the military with his best friend Jonas, who’s now married to Chase’s sister. How Jonas went his own way while Chase re-enlisted, and how Chase has a little niece and nephew.
“Do you like it?” I ask around a mouthful of ice cream. “Being in the military, I mean.”
He nods slowly, though I sense some hesitation.
“The guys you serve with become like family. I go where the Marines send me, so there’s a simplicity to it.
I like feeling as though I’m making a difference, but .
. .” He sighs. “After being back here . . . seeing Riley about to burst with her third, I’m starting to feel like I’m .
. . missing out. Like I’m over there when I should be right here. ”
Even though I know he’s talking about his family, the way he says it sends a flush of heat surging to my belly.
“Would you ever think of doing something else?” I try to keep my tone neutral, and yet everything inside me is begging him to say yes.
Chase studies me for a moment, and it feels as though his gaze strips me bare. “Yeah. I think I would.”
We talk until half the ice cream is gone, and I feel my eyelids beginning to droop. At some point, Chase moves the bucket of ice cream to the coffee table, and the two of us shift closer until our elbows are touching.
The warm cedar scent of him fills my lungs, and I have a sudden urge to bury my face in his chest and inhale deeply.
I’m not sure who moves first, only that my head ends up pressed against his shoulder. The weight of the day crashes over me like a wave, and I drift off to sleep.
CHASE
I wake to the sweet scent of vanilla and cinnamon, something soft and feminine that makes my wolf chuff in contentment. A warm female body is pressed against me, and I let out a long sigh as I feel myself being pulled out of the dream.
My cock is rock hard where it’s trapped in my jeans, and I have a faint crick in my neck that tells me I fell asleep on the couch.
Peeling my eyes open, I’m stunned to realize that those lush curves pressing into me weren’t a dream at all. Lizzy is curled against me, her straight blond hair falling across my arm and tickling my chin.
I can tell from the slow rise and fall of her chest that she’s still asleep, and for a moment, I just lie there, grinning like an idiot as the feel and scent of her surround me.
I could get used to this, waking up with Lizzy in my arms. But then the memory of last night comes rushing back, and I get a twinge of dread.
Lizzy’s ex was a shifter, which means I’m probably the last person she wants in her life. It doesn’t matter that all I want to do is protect her. The second she learns the truth of what I am, she’s going to run in the opposite direction.
Still, I let myself dream that we’re waking up together in my bed and that there’s not a stitch of clothing between us.
I fantasize about what it would be like to crawl between her legs and wake her with slow, decadent licks.
I imagine exploring every inch of her, lingering in all the divots and worshiping every soft curve.
I imagine getting a regular job — one that allows me to come home to her every single night.
Maybe she’d cook dinner while the two of us chat about our day.
Maybe we’d fold laundry together on the couch, and then I’d give her a foot rub.
One thing would lead to another, and we’d inevitably end up tangled in the sheets with my tongue tasting every secret, sensitive place on her body.
Stop it, I tell myself.
I’ve never fantasized about a woman this way before — never found myself longing for the simple rhythm of life together.
I only just met Lizzy, and my girl has been through the wringer.
I’m not right for her because I know myself.
I’m overprotective and possessive as hell.
I’d never be content with sharing her if she wanted to keep things casual.
If she were with me, I’d be all in. I’d want to mark her.
Mate her — tie her to me in every way possible.
Then I’d want to put a pup in her belly.
But Lizzy just got out of something horrific. She needs time alone to heal and put her life back together.
Suddenly, she stirs, and I grit my teeth, willing my erection to deflate. But then she makes a cute little noise in the back of her throat, and even more blood surges to my cock.
Lizzy moves against me, which doesn’t help matters, nestling deeper into the crook of my arm. Then she stiffens, sucking in a breath as if she just realized where she is.
Lizzy sits up suddenly, her cheeks turning a bright shade of pink as she looks from me to the gallon of ice cream, which has melted into a soupy mess.
“Sorry,” she says, her voice still husky from sleep. She turns to look at me, and I know I’m done for.
Her hair is gorgeously mussed, her eyes soft. It hits me how badly I want to see her this way every morning — as if that would ever be possible.
“We must’ve fallen asleep,” I say, watching her face carefully.
Does she regret ending up tangled around me, or is she just embarrassed? The last thing she probably wants is to get involved with someone else so soon after her breakup. If she knew what I am, she’d be gone already.
“I-I should go,” she stammers, her flush deepening as she disentangles her legs from mine.
Thankfully, she’s careful to look anywhere but at me, so she doesn’t notice my situation down south.
“I need to go into town to get a few groceries and apply for jobs.” She flashes me a sheepish smile, and the heated glint in her eyes sends another rush of desire straight to my cock.
“You hungry?” I’m a terrible cook, but my wolf is already whining at the prospect of her leaving, and I’d do anything to make her stay.
She shakes her head. “I’d better get going. Besides —” She nods at the ice cream. “I feel like that could’ve been breakfast.”
“No way.” I grin. “When I do breakfast, I go all out. Bacon. Sausage. Biscuits. The works.”
Lizzy smiles, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “Something to look forward to.”
And those five words might be the sweetest I have ever heard in my life.