Chapter 34
In the past four weeks since arriving home, Krys and I allowed our wolves to bond more closely, but we still hadn’t told the pack.
Being privy to a secret was my favorite thing.
We exchanged looks at the dinner table, stole kisses in the hall, and were intimate numerous times farther out on the property.
There happened to be a small cave that gave us a private place to enjoy the summer nights.
I loved our time together. Our intimate talks, our banter, the way he never let me get away with anything. The crazy adventures our wolves went on, even though he couldn’t remember any of it. And damn, how I loved the way he made me feel whole.
Cleo suffered a few night terrors, so my wolf curled up at the foot of her bed. Krys would lie on the floor beside her, pillow beneath his head while he told soothing stories about his bike rides along the West Coast.
She didn’t understand why her mother had rejected her. Cleo would likely spend years wondering if she wasn’t enough. Maybe being young and having us would help her through all that self-doubt.
When Calvin got wind that Cleo was back, he wanted to throw her a small celebration. It took a month before she was ready to venture out in public. We let her do things at her own pace.
As soon as I entered the Rabbit Lounge, I raised my arms. “Virgil Nightingale has arrived. The party can begin!”
Calvin gave me a cursory glance. “Gimme a minute on your Wild Rabbit. I have two orders ahead of you.”
“No need,” I said, astonished to hear the words leaving my mouth. “I’ll stick with a beer.”
Calvin blinked at me as if I had horns.
Mercy and Bear must’ve decorated. Streamers hung from the ceiling above the bar, balloons floated all over the room, and a row of tables were joined together with a Reserved sign on them.
“Is this for us?” Tak pulled out a chair. “I thought you’d stick us in the back.”
Calvin handed me a beer and faced the alpha. “If you want, I’ll kick all these assholes out of here.”
Instead of shaking his hand the way humans did, Tak clasped his forearm, and they greeted each other like gladiators.
When Krys passed by me, I inhaled his scent. A light spray of cologne wafted behind him, inviting me to follow.
Joy sashayed through the room in a stunning, strapless blue dress, and heads turned to admire her charismatic aura and…
Well, who were we kidding? They were salivating over her ample breasts and curvy hips.
Shifter men loved thick hips and a round ass, and Joy checked all those boxes.
When Atticus entered with Violet, all those eyeballs returned to their sockets.
Robyn snatched Montana’s hat and wore it proudly while Montana fixed his flat hair. When Hope walked past me with Jasper, the little guy heard the song on the jukebox and pumped his fists in the air.
He definitely had Tak’s personality.
The door opened, and Cleo walked in with Eden at her side.
“There she is!” Calvin boomed as he made his way over. He didn’t smile much, and when he did, it was borderline sinister.
We hadn’t told him what happened to her on the trip, but by the look on his face, he spotted a change in her demeanor. Cleo kept her hands in her hoodie pockets and gave him a reserved smile.
Calvin’s gaze fixed on her for a beat. The man was an asshole to almost everyone, but he treated Cleo like a long-lost granddaughter. He pointed at a large photograph on the wall behind the bar. “I’ve never seen a better-looking picture of this place.”
The image of the Rabbit Lounge was taken at dusk. It looked as timeless as the wooden exterior soaked in the last sliver of golden light. She’d captured the neon sign after it turned on.
When Cleo saw the picture, her eyebrows gathered in the middle. “How did you get that?”
“Your Packmaster thought I might like to see it, and it was my idea to frame it. Hope you don’t mind I stole a copy, but you have the negatives. I’m more proud of that picture than anything else in here. You got real talent.”
Cleo cautiously approached and wrapped her arms around his middle.
Calvin’s cheeks turned fire-engine red as he looked down at her in bewilderment. He patted her back. “Bear’s making fish soup. He says it’s your favorite. I’ve also got ice cream and ginger ale.”
Cleo drew back and wrinkled her nose. “Mixed together?”
He chuckled. “Well, I can do that too. If they can make a root beer float, why not?”
I clapped Calvin’s shoulder. “Don’t quit your day job. We’ve all tasted your cuisine. I still have food poisoning from two summers ago.”
Ignoring me, he jerked his chin toward the bar. “You can sit up there and watch me make it.”
Cleo’s eyebrows rose. “I’m not supposed to get on the furniture.”
He cackled and led her away. “My bar, my rules.”
“What happened to your ear?” she asked.
Calvin patted the back of her head. “Your aunt Mercy talked it off.”
I put my arm around Salem’s shoulders. “I’ll make sure Bear gives you an extra fish head.”
Quinn spun on her heel and laughed brightly. “Salem loves fish soup.” She touched her braid with a look of mischief. “Isn’t that right, my love?”
He shook his head while pulling out a chair for her.
The swing doors to the kitchen pushed open, and Bear presented two large baskets of bread. A few jealous customers craned their necks to see, but I had a feeling when the soup arrived, their jealousy would quickly disappear.
Tak leaned over a table behind ours and greeted a local Packmaster.
Archer and Cecilia were supposed to be getting beers for everyone, but they were too busy flirting with each other at the bar.
Despite not being physically affectionate in public, they had a deep and unwavering love.
It made me wonder what Krys would be like.
I guess Cecilia and I can sit at the same table and keep each other company, I mused.
Krys and I disagreed on occasion, but we’d had our first big fight the previous night.
The pack meant everything to us, and we worried that keeping our relationship a secret could earn us the boot.
But I also understood that he had more at stake.
Coming out to those you loved was never easy.
No matter how much you thought you could trust them, the fear of potentially losing that love could be crippling.
I’d been out for over a century, but all those old insecurities resurrected each time I kept parts of my life secret and then revealed them, like when I told the pack I was part Gravewalker.
I suggested he confide in Archer, since they were kin, but when he refused, I wondered if he ever intended to make this public.
Archer and Cecilia finally joined us. After setting beers on the table, he pulled out her chair.
Melody was telling one of her animated stories, Hope chased after Jasper when he slid off her lap and darted off, and Robyn had Violet on her knee while Joy pulled out her knitting needles to work on a custom winter hat for Cleo’s animal.
Catcher sat with his eyes fixed on the door. His lips peeled back, and a growl settled in his throat.
“What’s the matter?” I asked, tapping his ear. “You don’t like the fish soup either?” I pivoted to see what had caught his attention. “Well, as I live and breathe. If it isn’t Mr. Turtleneck Douchebag himself.”
Ian Mason strolled into the joint with his coal-black hair combed back like a fashion model.
He and his sister Serena tried joining the pack in the beginning but were kicked out after Ian’s wolf attempted to eat everyone during a meet and greet.
Even during the drive down on the bus, they sat by themselves, and when they interacted with us, Ian always took control of the conversation.
We’d spotted them around town over the years, but I hadn’t seen his sister since the bombing at Dragonfly’s. Salem said she had a pretty nasty facial scar, but the poor woman couldn’t remain in seclusion forever.
Here he was, all by his lonesome in his sporty brown turtleneck, black trousers rolled at the ankles, and sockless loafers.
“Cheerio, good chap!” I called out, mocking his posh accent.
Ian gave me a cursory glance as he approached the bar. Then he noticed the gang was all here. Ian usually avoided us like the plague because of all his hurt feelings about getting thrown out.
Catcher continued growling.
I flicked his ear. “Stop that. If you maul someone, Tak will leash you to the mailbox when we get home.”
Catcher lumbered toward the main entrance and sniffed the air. When the door opened and two guys bustled in, he skipped out on us. Catcher was his own wolf, and though he lived in our pack, he was entitled to come and go as he pleased like the rest of us.
Krys’s laugh snared my attention. He was scooted away from the table and shaking his head as if he’d told a wicked story.
Archer slapped the table, and a laugh pealed out of him. “Virgil, we can’t take you anywhere!”
Uncertain what they were talking about, I put my hand on Krys’s shoulder and leaned over him. “What mischief is this? Are we telling fictional stories about me?”
Krys glanced up. “I was telling them about our gas station trip. I didn’t even get to the best part with the sprinklers.”
Archer chuckled before lifting his beer. “Never a dull moment with Taz.”
“You can say that again.” Krys hooked his arm around my waist and hauled me onto his lap.
I sat there in surprise, especially when he kept his arm locked around my waist and continued talking.
“That’s how it all started,” he said. “You know how much his wolf loves water. One minute we’re standing outside, having a conversation. The next, I’m chasing his ass across a parking lot while he races back and forth through the sprinklers.”
While Krys told his story about our convenience store adventures, my heart was pounding against my chest. Nobody blinked twice when he pulled me onto his lap. But that changed when his hand wandered up my chest until his fingers traced the outline of a nipple piercing.
“When did you get this?” he asked.