Sixteen
Cam
Igroaned and clapped my hands to my face. “karla,” i protested, even as wyatt sat straight up and stared at her. i was glad he’d put his fork down; otherwise, it would have fallen out of his hand and clanged on the plate. instead, he just stared at my aunt, who grinned.
“Fated … mate?” Wyatt asked finally, tilting his head to the side.
“Karla,” Caroline said, and Karla jumped, which probably meant Caroline had kicked her under the table.
“What?”
“Cal said the boy just learned about shifters yesterday, and that’s how you want to start this conversation?” Caroline gave her wife a reproving look.
“Well,” Karla said, “how else would you start it?”
Caroline sighed, then looked at Wyatt. “Ignore her,” she commanded. “Tell us how you and Cam met.”
Wyatt blinked, then pointed between the two of us. “You think we’re … fated …”
“I got shot,” I blurted, hoping to forestall more questions about this whole fated mate thing. Honestly, I wasn’t sure I bought it—even though it made perfect sense.
“Got shot!” Karla echoed, her attention shifting to me.
“And what were you doing to get shot?” Caroline asked, lifting a brow. Somewhere in the background, Cal sighed.
“I smelled blood, so I went up to Bobby Lam’s to check on the sheep.”
“In your fur, I assume,” Caroline said.
“In my fur,” I conceded.
“He’d been bothering the sheep up there for a couple of weeks,” Cal added. “Council fined him a couple of times.”
Wyatt cleared his throat. “Vern and I were there—there was blood because one of the ewes was lambing.”
“Oh,” Karla said.
“Bobby took a shotgun to me. Got me in the shoulder.”
“Well,” Caroline said, “serves you right for nosing about and bothering the sheep.”
Wyatt cleared his throat again. “I saw him run off and figured he was going to die a horrible death—I … I didn’t know he was a shifter. I thought he was just a regular old coyote.”
Caroline and Karla shared a look. Caroline turned back to Wyatt. “And?”
“I got back to Vern’s, and in the morning, I got my own car and drove back to Lam’s place. Then I followed the blood, which led right to the back door here.”
Caroline sighed and looked at me. I shrugged; I knew I’d been careless, in a lot of ways.
Cal chuckled. “Can you imagine? Cam gets himself shot, and first thing the next morning, there’s this fellow at my door telling me there might be a wounded coyote running around the property.”
Wyatt’s brow crunched, as though he was thinking about something. He looked at me. “You were there for that conversation,” he said finally, voice accusing.
“I was.” I lifted a brow.
“And then you walked off and came back in your fur …” He trailed off, clearly trying to piece together my motivations.
I sighed. “I didn’t want to deal with Marnie. She’s spent enough time trying to patch me up lately.”
That made Aunt Caroline frown, but Cal crashed on with the story. “So Cam comes trotting around the side of the house, and Wyatt is freaked out a bit—”
“I was not.”
“Were so,” Cal retorted, and I was suddenly fifteen again, listening to my brothers argue. I slid a side-long look at Wyatt.
It was like he’d always belonged here, at the table, in our house, arguing with Cal and whoever else.
I never wanted him to leave again.
The thought rocked me, so I sank my teeth deep into my lip, hoping to keep myself from blurting out anything that crossed my mind.
Were my aunts right? Was there something to this fated mate mumbo-jumbo?
“I wasn’t freaked out,” Wyatt was informing my aunts calmly. “I was surprised, sure. Most wild animals don’t come trotting right up to you, especially not when they’re wounded—but here was this coyote, strolling up like he’d been scheduled for day surgery and had almost missed the appointment.”
Karla snorted. Cal waited a beat, then rapped his knuckles on the back of his chair. “Anyway, so Wyatt operated.”
“Got me all patched up, and now I’m good as new,” I offered, rolling my shoulder. It twinged a bit with pain, which made me wince, but it was nothing like it had been just two days ago.
“Stop that,” Wyatt scolded. “God knows what you’re doing to the ligaments—let alone what shifting’s done.”
“The liga-what?” I asked, and both of my aunts burst out laughing.
“Well,” Caroline said, getting to her feet, “I think you’re gonna have your hands full with him, Wyatt.”
Wyatt startled, then colored up to his ears. “Er,” he said, slowly turning to look at me. His eyes were wide, full of apprehension.
I felt my own gut curdling with similar fear. What had him so freaked out?
“It’s late,” Caroline said as she sashayed into the kitchen, dropping her cup in the sink. “I’m going to turn in—don’t stay up too late, and don’t get into too much mischief.”
Wyatt rose from the table, the legs of his chair scraping across the floor. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I didn’t think about the time. I’ll get out of your hair.”
Karla shot him a look which, from anyone else, might have counted as a death glare. “Leaving?” she asked. “I don’t think so.”
Wyatt blinked in confusion, and I probably looked just as bewildered. Cal pursed his lips. “Karla,” he started.
She waved him off. “Boys, the good doctor looks dead on his feet. You’re not letting him drive home,” she declared.
“But,” Wyatt started.
Cal sighed. “I suppose we got room,” he murmured, eyes raking back and forth across the ceiling as he thought. He looked at me. “How’s Cash’s room?”
I grimaced. We’d closed the door and forgotten about it since our brother had shipped off to Canada.
Cal lifted his brows.
“Sounds like you need a maid,” Karla muttered.
Connor and Cody’s room was obviously spoken for, which left Cal’s room and the guest room, which were also clearly occupied.
That left one other room in the house—one that hadn’t been touched in years now.
Cal and I stared at each other for a long moment. “I’ll get some sheets,” he said at last, then disappeared down the hall.
“Y-yeah,” I agreed, then glanced at Wyatt.
“What?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.
“Um,” I said.
Karla sighed again. Aunt Caroline grabbed the sheets from Cal when he stepped back into the room. “Wyatt,” she said, “you can take the guest room. Karla and I will move up to the master bedroom.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. It had been years since Dad had passed, and even longer since Mom had been gone, but it still hurt. We’d closed the door to that bedroom and hadn’t thought about it for ages.
“Karla,” Aunt Caroline said.
“On it,” the burly woman said, lumbering out of the room toward the guest room.
Wyatt’s head was on a swivel. “What?” he asked. “What’s going on? Why—”
“It’s just that the room hasn’t been used in a while,” Cal said. “Caroline and Karla will freshen it up, so you don’t need to worry.”
Karla stumbled by with a couple of suitcases, heading for the stairs. “Room’s all yours, Wyatt,” she said, then tromped up the staircase. Aunt Caroline followed, silent as she ascended.
Wyatt’s hazel gaze darted to me, and he opened his mouth like he wanted to say something. Instead, we ended up staring at each other for a moment, before he closed his mouth tight.
“You need some pyjamas?” Cal asked.
“This is fine,” Wyatt said, plucking at the oversized t-shirt he was wearing. I had to bite back a growl when I realized it was one of the twins’. Something about Wyatt wearing one of my brothers’ clothes got my hackles up.
Stupid, I thought. I was being stupid. This whole thing was stupid.
“All right,” Cal said. “Good night then?”
Wyatt nodded. “Good night,” he said, then strode off in the direction of the guest bedroom.
I balled my hands into fists, letting my nails bite into my palms. I wanted nothing more than to drag Wyatt up to my room, to lock him in with me, and …
Well. I wasn’t a hundred percent sure what I wanted to do to him. Cuddle him or fuck him, one or the other. Maybe both.
Either way, it wasn’t happening; the door to the guest room closed, and I was left with Cal, who was looking at me with one of those meaningful big brother looks.
I trudged to the stairs without meeting his eyes. “I’m gonna hit the hay too,” I told him. “Good night.”
“Night,” he offered, then hollered at the twins. “Don’t stay up too late, y’hear?!”
“Shut up, Cal!”
“You’re not the boss of me!”
Cal scoffed and rolled his eyes. I almost cracked a smile. “Night, Mother Hen,” I told him.
He snorted at me, then swatted my hand. “Don’t make me nag you too,” he said as he started up the stairs.
“I don’t think you’d be happy without someone to nag,” I retorted, jogging up after him.
“You’d be surprised,” he muttered. “Night.”
“Night,” I replied for what felt like the tenth time, then slipped into the quiet of my room, closing the door behind me.