Chapter 16
Two days had passed since the rattlesnake almost killed Virgil.
I remained busy with my project. Robyn loaned me her large drawing table, and we covered the surrounding floor in plastic.
Although I was meticulous about cleaning my workstation and using tools to catch the glass, I wanted to be respectful of their home, especially with wolves and babies running around.
That meant cleaning the floor each and every time.
“I still can’t believe you ate that soup.” Hope leaned forward in her chair and pulled open a small drawer on the back wall of her desk.
“Tak said it was tradition.”
“Maybe with his people, but certainly not mine. My father would’ve made a belt out of the snakeskin though. What comes after cutting glass?”
“The fun part: painting. After that, I heat everything in a kiln to fuse the paint to the glass. I won’t start that process until I clean my workspace spotless.”
“Is that what the bread is for?” she said with a chuckle. “Or are you hungry?”
“It helps pick up pieces I can’t see, and the lint roller grabs the smaller ones.” I moved my eye protectors onto my head. “I clean the table after each cutting.”
“I’m the same way. I’m obsessive about wiping everything up no matter how time-consuming it is. When I shape the stones, it’s a process. Now with the little ones crawling around, I have to be extra careful.”
I had spread out a sheet of paper with part of the design and placed a large glass panel over it.
Cutting was easy since I traced the blade over the lines beneath, but after a while it hurt my fingers and wrist since there were so many pieces.
Straight lines were easy using a narrow piece of plywood as a guide, but curves and smaller pieces were tricky.
I glanced at the sunlight trickling in through the east-facing front window. Because the front porch didn’t reach all the way to the end of the house, the art room received direct morning sun. “It’s gorgeous in here. You’re lucky to have a workshop. My entire house is basically where I work.”
“Have you thought about building on to it?”
“It’s not worth it.”
“Don’t be silly.” Hope stood and rubbed her lower back. “It’s good to have a future goal. Maybe not now, but someday you can expand when you have more time or money.”
I smiled ruefully. “Someday. How do you get any work done with a baby?”
She wound her silky hair behind her head.
“Tak and I work out our schedules ahead of time. If he’s doing light work outside, he’ll strap the baby onto him.
Other times, Joy and Atticus volunteer to babysit.
Even with their help, sometimes I come in here to sneak a nap on the sofa. Without the pack, I’d be a mess.”
“My parents did it on their own. Now I know why they always looked tired.”
“What about you? Have you thought about joining a group and having a family?”
“That’s probably not in the cards. I’m a crossbreed.”
Hope twisted around in her seat. “Really? What kind?”
“Sensor and Shifter. My genes are defective though, so I don’t have a lot of common gifts. Mostly the Sensor side is affected.”
She shook her head as if not accepting those excuses. “That doesn’t mean you can’t have a pack, a mate, or even children of your own. Granted, your dating pool is smaller, but—”
“I don’t want a relationship.”
“My gosh, I’m saying all the wrong things. It’s rude of me to pry. Please accept my apology, Quinn. I would never dream of making any judgments on your lifestyle or ambitions.”
“It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not.” She set down a small pair of pliers.
“I never imagined finding someone until I met Tak, so I guess a part of me always wants to give that encouragement to others. But it’s not everyone’s desire to have a mate or a family.
You have an exciting business. I can’t wait to see the painting phase. ”
A doorbell sounded, which prompted me to remove my gloves and set my glasses down.
She squinted and looked through the front window. “That’s our gate alarm. Robyn canceled her classes today, and everyone’s here. Who could that be? Lakota!”
I turned around and watched a white convertible roll toward the house while Catcher barked at the intruder. As the vehicle neared, Scott’s face came into focus. I rushed to the window to make sure I wasn’t having a nightmare.
Oh, but I was.
“I think I’m going to throw up.”
Hope clutched my arm. “Are you sick?”
Panicked, I faced her and wondered how much of my story I could compact into a thirty-second explanation.
“I made a favor trade with an old friend. He wanted to marry me, so I ran away to live here. Now he’s found me and still wants to get married.
I told him I was already mated and thought that would make him leave.
He doesn’t believe me, so that’s why he’s here.
I didn’t mean to drag your pack into this.
I plan to pay him back someday, but not with my hand in marriage. It’s not right.”
“No, it’s not right. If he was a true friend, he would’ve never asked that of you.”
“Are you talking about the fake marriage?” Melody stood in the doorway, a bottle of root beer in her hand. “Lakota told me the whole story. Did I ever mention how I once made him pretend to be my husband? True story. We have something in common.”
Hope frowned at me. “Who did you say you were mated to?”
I swallowed hard. “Salem.”
Melody chortled. “You should’ve picked Virgil. He would’ve sold it. But Salem? Good luck with that.”
We focused on the window when Catcher’s barking became increasingly threatening. Scott was sitting on top of his seat, the sunroof open, black sunglasses shielding his eyes as he faced the house. I wondered if he could see us looking at him.
My heart sank in my chest. “Well, I guess this means I have to come clean and marry him.”
Melody sauntered farther in. “Why?”
“Because I can’t ask everyone to lie for me.”
She shrugged while lifting the bottle to her lips. “Might be fun.”
“You would do that? Scott isn’t a bad guy. I don’t want anyone being mean to him. His only real flaw is that he thinks I’m his other half. Well, that and his weird obsession with ironing his underwear.”
Melody sputtered with laughter, and root beer dribbled down her chin. “Now I have to meet the psycho.”
“Meet who?” Lakota asked from the door.
She elbowed him. “Quinn’s future husband.”
Lakota slowly curved his arm around her shoulder and clamped her mouth shut.
Melody pulled his hand away. “Calm down. I didn’t break my promise. I happened to walk in when they were talking about it.”
“Is that how you want to tell it?”
She shrugged while circling around him to leave. “That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it. Be right back. I need to invite our psychopathic guest in for a drink.”
Lakota tilted his head when he noticed Scott through the window.
“I need to speak with Tak and everyone else. Invite your friend around to the back so I have time to fill them in. Virgil’s resting.
If Mr. Wonderful out there wants an invitation inside the house, he shouldn’t sneak up on pack territory without scheduling an appointment.
” Lakota looked exasperated by Scott’s unannounced pop-in.
“He’s trying to catch me off guard so he can prove I’m lying,” I explained. “I’m so sorry about this.”
He wagged his finger at me. “I don’t want to hear another apology. This isn’t your fault. No one should force you into a marriage.”
Hope chuckled mischievously. “Not even your wife?”
He waggled his eyebrows. “I made an exception for Freckles.”
“You know how she hates that nickname.”
He smirked before stepping out the door. “You better go make sure my wife isn’t using our guest for target practice.”
The bubbles in my orange soda tickled my throat as I listened to Scott wrapping up another work-related story that had everyone enthralled. His blue polo shirt brought out the color of his eyes, and he only ever wore that color when he was trying to impress someone.
After collecting his beer bottle from the ledge of the deck, he said, “And that’s why I’ll never lift emotions from a dildo again.”
Everyone laughed.
Oh God. They love him. Why am I surprised? Everyone loves Scott. He’s the golden boy, and now I look like a lunatic for making them lie on my behalf. They must think I’m crazy for not marrying such a handsome guy with a great job and personality.
Scott was a wonderful storyteller, one of the many reasons we were friends. He loved to laugh and make people feel good, and his positivity was infectious.
Tak scratched his cheek from his Adirondack chair. “So you read emotions from objects that belong to dead people?”
Scott shrugged. “That’s one way to put it.
I like to call myself an artifacts detective.
It’s not just crime scenes. Luckily, my job doesn’t involve going to those.
I sit in an office, analyze evidence, and document whatever comes up.
Sometimes the impressions are old, but since I’m not a hypersensitive, I can’t always read those.
I solve crimes, reunite makers with their progeny, and even find missing children. ”
Tak’s eyebrows arched. “Missing children?”
“Sure. Parents sometimes have a hunch who might’ve taken them, or in some instances, parents are guilty of the crime. Objects aren’t the only thing I touch. When they bring in suspects for questioning, I can tell if they’re lying.”
Tak slouched. “Oh.”
Joy shaded her eyes from the sun. “Gee whiz. That’s an awful lot of responsibility.”
He held her gaze for a minute. “You know who you remind me of?”
Atticus wrapped his arms around her from behind and stared Scott down. “My beloved wife? A one-of-a-kind beauty matched by no other?”
Scott forced a smile and pointed at him. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I was about to say. You make a handsome couple. Just like Quinn and Salem over here.” He leaned his arm against the railing. “So how did you two meet?”