Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
CHARLI
It’s been years since I talked about my mom to anyone, much less someone I met less than a week ago.
Yet, I found myself wanting to tell him all about her, which would be bad.
She was a pretty popular artist with showings at galleries across the globe, and it wouldn’t be too hard for someone as sharp as Teague to put two and two together.
After work, Teague drove us home, but had to leave to pick up an order, so I rode the elevator up alone.
Macklin’s waiting at my door when I step into the hallway.
In dark jeans and a grey flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up, his massive forearms on display, he looks like a man who can take care of anything, including a wolf shifter like Leif.
I glance down at his massive hands and mentally grin.
Must have hurt like hell, not that I feel bad for Leif.
Macklin straightens the minute he sees me, a slow smile spreading across his ruggedly perfect face, which instantly warms me from the inside out.
“Hi,” I greet him, wondering why he’s here.
“Charli,” he replies in a deep tone. “I’m upgrading the building to a biometric security system. Instead of a key, your fingerprint will unlock everything—elevator, garage, your apartment. Do you mind if I install the reader on your door and hook everything up?”
Taken aback, I stare at him. “Is there a lot of crime in Greystone?” Should I be worried?
He shakes his head. “Not really. We take care of our own.”
I bet. I still haven’t wrapped my head around the idea of supernaturals, but the thought of facing shifters and vampires and gargoyles is enough to make my knees shake. “Oh, then why the upgrade?”
“With you living here, I refuse to take any chances,” he informs me, taking the key from my hand and unlocking the door. “I want you to feel safe. Like this is your home.”
I stand there, mouth open, trying to figure out what to say.
His words slide beneath my armor in a way I didn’t expect.
It’s been a long time since someone cared if I was safe or had anything more than four wheels to call home.
Not that I’m ready to call Greystone home.
I’ve moved some stuff into the apartment, but I haven’t unpacked yet.
“Here.” He bends down and picks up a brown bag from the floor. “With over two feet of snow, it will be tough to get to the grocery store. This should tide you over until they plow the roads again.”
In disbelief, I stare at him. “First Teague, now you. I’m feeling spoiled. Thank you.” I hold out my hands, but he shakes his head.
“It’s heavy,” he says, standing to the side.
“How much do I owe you?”
“You don’t owe me anything. Think of it as a welcome gift.”
Uneasy, I shake my head. “You’ve already done a lot for me.” He lifts a shoulder as if it isn’t that big a deal. I’ll have to think of something to do for him. “Thank you. Although, for a Southerner, I’m doing pretty good driving in the snow.”
His brows draw together. “Have you never driven in the snow?”
I smile and open the door, wondering if he’ll say anything about the unpacked boxes or the crate of food on the counter. “Maybe an inch or two, but nothing like this.” I wave to the left. “Would you mind putting them in the kitchen?”
He beams, steps in and sets down the bag, then returns to the front door. After propping it open, he flips the lid of his toolbox and grabs a screwdriver, then kneels to remove the doorknob.
“This is going to take about thirty minutes to install. Then, I’ll have to add your fingerprint to the system,” he says. “Feel free to go do whatever you usually do. Pretend I’m not here.”
I snort, and he stops and gives me a curious look.
“Not possible. You’re hard to miss.” That slow smile spreads across his lips again, and I swear my knees go weak. “Although, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get out of these wet pants.”
He clears his throat.
I wince. That sounded really bad. “It’s just. The snow is deep. No boots.” Huffing, I give up. “Forget it. I’ll be back.”
Those deep blue eyes stare at me with a mix of laughter and heat.
I completely ignore his muffled offer to help and beeline to the bedroom to dig through my small stack of clothes for a sweatshirt and leggings, then hang my pants over the shower rod to dry.
Sliding my feet into slippers, I return to the entry.
“Would you like something to drink?” I ask, trying to think of what I’ve got to offer. “Water or water?”
He shakes his head. “I’m good. Almost done.”
I shuffle into the kitchen and unload the groceries he bought. Bread, deli meat, soup, chocolate, crackers, eggs, and a bottle of white wine. Smiling, I stare down at the items. A warm, fuzzy feeling wraps around me.
I pick up the wine. It reminds me of the bottle Cara bought me for my twenty-first birthday.
Since I didn’t have any family, she went all out.
Threw me a party filled with good music, lots of booze, and all our friends.
Best day of my adult life. I sigh as I remember the anniversary of her death is coming up.
Every year I order pink roses for her grave. They were her favorite.
Shaking off the melancholy, I finish putting the perishables in the fridge, then store the remaining items in my crate.
“All done,” Macklin says, getting to his feet and holding out a scanner. “Once I have your fingerprint, I can set you up in the system.”
I stare at the small, dark screen. If I give him my fingerprint, is it going to go in some database where one of Hank’s hackers can find it?
He reaches out and lifts my chin. “It’s a closed-loop system. Only Teague, Andros, and I have access.”
My shoulders slip down a notch, and I press my finger against the glass until the green light comes on.
He fiddles with it for a second, then motions to the door. “Step out. Use your fingerprint to get in.” He makes me do this several times.
Every time I press the glass with my finger, it beeps, and the door unlocks. The brief sound is reassuring in a way I didn’t expect.
“Okay. You’re good to go.” He packs up his toolbox and opens the door.
“Thanks for this,” I blurt. It’s obvious he’s only upgrading the system for me. All three of them can easily take care of anybody stupid enough to break into the home of two gargoyles and a vampire.
His deep blue eyes stare steadily into mine, understanding in their depths. “Call me if you need anything. Any time. I’m always up.” He saunters out the door and down the hall to their place.
I stare after him. Reaching his apartment, he turns his head and motions for me to go back into the apartment, standing there until I do.
He knows I’m scared, probably because I wasn’t exactly subtle about the pass closing.
Hopefully, he doesn’t know the extent of it.
I exhale heavily. The car was easy in a way.
I could see every entry point. Here, I can’t sleep unless I can see the front door.
Even then, I’m constantly checking and rechecking to make sure it’s locked and nobody is standing outside in the hall.
Shivering in the chilly air, I turn up the thermostat and slide into the comforter on the couch. My insurance client paid me for his website today. So, there’s a little bit more on my prepaid credit card. And last night, I sent the line art drawing to the author for her review and feedback.
I contemplate taking on another gig after this one finishes.
There’s very little for me to do at night except watch TV, which holds little appeal, having spent too many nights in the hospital mindlessly bingeing shows.
Work is better. Plus, if I can make enough side money to cover my bills, I’ll be able to bank my entire salary.
Someone knocks on the door, and for a second, I freeze, but I force myself to get up and go look. Maybe Macklin forgot something. Peering through the peephole, I see a large box with a picture of a fancy coffee maker on it. Intrigued, I crack open the door.
Teague pivots to the side and flashes me that broad smile of his. The one I’ve sketched a thousand times but never get tired of seeing. “I brought you something.”
I stare at it. “It looks expensive, Teague. I can’t accept it.”
He lifts a shoulder. “Then don’t. Use it while you’re here, then leave it in the apartment for the next person.
” When I continue to hesitate, he motions to the stuff on the floor that I didn’t even see.
“I think I got everything, but you better check. Syrups, grinder, sugar, honey, tumblers with lids. You name it.”
He went to so much trouble. With a sigh, I give in and hold the door wide open. “Fine. To be clear, I’m not accepting it. I’m only using it temporarily. Got it?”
He chuckles. “Wait until you make your Campfire Mocha in your pajamas.”
I shake my head as he blatantly tempts me with one of my favorite drinks.
He sets it on the counter and takes it out of the box. It’s…fancy with its shiny stainless steel and digital screen. And is that a…frother?
“It might take me a few days to figure it out,” I murmur, biting my lip. Or a month.
He shrugs and returns to the hall to grab the rest of the stuff. “Why don’t I come over Saturday morning, and we’ll figure out how to use it together? All I ask is that you make me one of your coffees. I’m sort of getting addicted to them.”
I laugh at the wry smile he flashes.
He puts the rest of the items on the other counter, then bends down and murmurs in a low, sexy voice. “It makes hot chocolate.”
Heat curls low in my stomach. I throw my hands up. “Fine. I give up.” My lips twitch. “To be honest, you had me at ‘drinking coffee in my pajamas’.”
He hums. “Maybe I should come over in my pajamas and join you.”
I doubt he wears pajamas, but it makes me wonder what he does wear to bed. Glancing into the bag, I grab a bottle of syrup and stare down at it, trying to get the image of his naked body out of my head.
“Oooh…peppermint. I love a good white chocolate peppermint mocha.”
While he finishes taking all the parts out of the box, I unpack the rest of the stuff and set the small bottles of syrup and other items along the counter.
He opens the cabinets. “Here, let me.” He frowns when he sees it’s empty. “Why don’t I run out and get you some groceries? Won’t take but a minute.”
Panic washes over me, but I motion to the crate behind him. “I have plenty of food. Just haven’t gotten around to unpacking.” I give a self-conscious laugh. “Actually, I have more groceries than I need since Macklin brought me a bag earlier.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Really?”
“He didn’t mean anything by it. I think he likes to take care of everyone.”
He tilts his head. “Macklin takes care of this entire town. Ask around. They’ll tell you a thousand stories.”
Disappointment fills me, but I shrug it off. I’m glad I didn’t make more of his gesture. Maybe that is Macklin’s love language. Taking care of people.
“I can see that in him,” I say softly.
Teague leans against the counter and crosses his arms over his chest. “He’s making lasagna for our lunch tomorrow. And just so you know…Macklin never cooks for the town, and in all the years I’ve known him, he’s never made lunch for me to take to work.”
I can’t help but feel a little giddy when I hear Teague’s reassurance. “Thank you.”
He motions to the front door. “I see he also got the new security system installed.”
I nod, relieved to have something besides a deadbolt that can be picked in less than a minute. “He did. I feel a lot better having something besides a regular lock.”
Teague picks up my hand and plays with my fingers for a minute, his forehead creased with concern.
Sterling blue-grey eyes stare steadily into mine.
“We want you to feel safe here. So, if we need to install a hundred systems or hire bodyguards with lethal magic to keep you safe, that’s what we’ll do.
I hope one day you’ll feel comfortable enough to tell us who you’re running from and let us find a permanent solution.
You deserve to walk this life and find love and a home without constantly looking over your shoulder. Think about it, okay?”
Hank’s name hovers on the tip of my tongue, but I’m not ready to share everything in my past that goes along with his name.
He must see my reluctance, because he drops a kiss on my forehead. “See you in the morning.”
Hard to believe I’ve only been here nine days.
I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to go back to living in my car.
For the rest of the week, Teague showed up with coffee from my favorite coffee shop every morning, and Macklin made us lunch every day.
At first, I didn’t know how I should respond, but neither of them acts like it’s a big deal.
Hopefully, we can get this fancy coffee machine up and running on Saturday, and I can pay him back by making us coffee next week.
Cabin fever is real. The snow finally stopped, and the streets are clear, which is good because I’m itching to explore the town this weekend.
Maybe peek into some of those shops on Main Street.
I can’t remember the last time I walked around without fear, but with the pass closed, I don’t have to look over my shoulder every second.
A meeting pops up on my calendar for this afternoon. One p.m. Legal briefing. I open it and see it’s for two hours with Andros. I check to see who’s invited and gulp when I see I’m the only one. Reluctantly, I accept.
I pick up my fork and push some of the corn and black beans around in my bowl. The delicious Southwest salad Macklin made isn’t as appetizing as it did a minute ago.
“Not hungry?” Teague asks, not looking up from his laptop. He finished his lunch a few minutes ago. Normally, we sit and talk, but he’s trying to finalize his notes for an important kick-off meeting in twenty minutes.
I glance across the table at him, wondering if he’s this attuned to everyone. “I’ve never eaten so much in my life as I have this week.”
He taps on a few keys, then leans back and stares at me with those perceptive sterling eyes. “Do you want us to stop?”
Do I? I lift a defensive shoulder, unable to silence the voice in my head that keeps wondering when they’re going to get tired of me. “I can take care of myself, you know.”
His eyes narrow. “You didn’t answer my question.”
Unable to say no, I press my lips together, and satisfaction crosses his face.
“Glad that’s settled. I’ll be out of the office this afternoon at that kick-off.
Macklin’s grilling steaks tonight. Seven o’clock.
Don’t be late.” He picks up his bag and strides out of the office, leaving me sitting there with my mouth open.
When did I agree to dinner?