Survivor: A Shifter of Consequence Tale (Shifters of Consequence Book 1) Page 9

  “How am I supposed to help you with my eyes closed?” He stepped inside, but I was on the other side of the bed, still out of his range of vision.

  “Fine, but don’t laugh, and if you tell anyone…”

  He was next to me and had his arms under mine in seconds. “I would never, sweetheart. Don’t you trust me by now?”

  He looked into my eyes the whole time. Even when I was back to standing and he bent down and felt around for my pants, his eyes were on mine. I stepped into the other leg and he pulled them up to my knees before standing and holding my waist while I pulled them up the rest of the way.

  “You’re going to make someone an amazing mate one day,” I said, tears filling my eyes at his simple but profound kindness, leaving me with my dignity while he helped.

  “I hope so. I really, really hope so.” He leaned forward, his eyes hooded.

  I knew where this was going, and I put my finger over his mouth before he got any closer. “I kissed Brandon yesterday. It was my first kiss ever, but yeah, I’m putting that out there.”

  He chuckled and moved to kiss my fingertips. “It’s okay.”

  “It’s okay?” I asked, confused.

  “Yes. I don’t mind. I’m not jealous. Right now the only thing on my mind is you and me.”

  “Most guys would mind.”

  He chuckled and leaned forward to touch his forehead against mine. “Well, I’m not most guys.”

  I nodded, and he kissed me once on the lips and then moved to my neck. He sucked and nibbled at the sensitive spots along my throat until I was breathless.

  “I knew you would taste like the best dessert ever.” He tipped his chin at the bed. “I already got the prize, but mind if I read you to sleep?”

  “Not at all.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  I let it slip I wanted to start working on the house, and Cashel showed up the next Saturday wearing paint-splattered jeans and spirited me off to the local home improvement store to purchase the necessities to paint my bedroom. We rode in his old, rusted pickup because it had plenty of room both for my wheelchair and everything we planned to buy. He objected to my description of the vehicle, calling the finish “patina.” But it looked like plain old oxidation to me.

  Either way, we cruised the aisles of the warehouse, piling a flat cart with paint, brushes, tarps, rollers, tape, a ladder, and so many other things. I’d set aside some money for these sorts of things, and was a little bit on the extravagant side, but consoled myself with the fact other girls spent a lot on makeup and clothes and things. My home was a lot more practical place to use my savings. We drove through a local fast-food favorite place on the way back and ordered huge breakfasts which I set on the patio table while my knight in splattered jeans hauled everything inside.

  He was so serious, and according to the other guys a worker who never slowed down, constantly putting the pack above his own needs and always there to lend a hand whether it was the alpha or the least of the members who needed him. And, to my shock, he could be funny as hell.

  “So, the alpha was directing a crew erecting a new pole barn on the lands about a year ago,” he told me, with a totally straight face. “And it wasn’t going well, not gonna lie. Anyone would have been frustrated. Someone had bought the plans online and the designer might have had a pot-smoking habit or maybe it was edibles, but whatever, his blueprints were straight out of Alice in Wonderland. The carefully prepared lengths mostly wrong and so was nearly everything else. By the time we’d managed to figure out a work-around, tempers were frayed and we were about thirty seconds from fist fights breaking out. Then even what we thought we’d had right was wrong.”

  I took another bite of the stuffed French toast, chewed, and swallowed. “That must have been awful. No wonder the alpha was upset.” I sipped my coffee, trying to think of where this project had taken place. “Where did you put that barn up? I don’t remember seeing a pole barn. Is it way out in the fields or something?”

  He roared with laughter and slapped his leg. “That’s the best part. There isn’t one.”

  “What?” I didn’t understand, obviously. “I thought you just said it was put up recently.”

  “I said we were erecting one. Not that it was completed.”

  “So you have to finish it still?” And why did he keep laughing? “What is so funny?”

  “Fire,” he gasped out. “All burned up.”

  “Cashel, will you chill for a minute and explain to me why your barn burning is humorous? My gosh, I hope nobody was hurt.” I began to believe he was the one who indulged in edibles, rather than the barn designer. I never realized anyone designed them, but I supposed someone had to.

  “No.” He straightened in his seat, wiping at a few tears on his cheeks. “About sundown, when it became clear the project was not going to happen because what we had would not go together to make any kind of a logical configuration for a barn, the alpha set the plans on fire.”

  “Okay, I suppose it might have been better to try to return them for a refund, but still not getting the humor here.” Maybe I was dense.

  “I’m just not telling it right,” he said, managing to calm his hilarity for a moment. “He burned it all.”

  “All?”

  “Once the paper burned, which took about twenty seconds, the alpha leapt to his feet and demanded we bring every bit of wood and build a bonfire. It flared up to the sky, and we cheered and danced, some shifted and howled. We brought out beer and tequila and whatever anyone had and drank until we passed out in the flickering light of that pyre.”

  His sigh seemed to come from his toes. “Best time ever. But funny. So funny.”

  “Yeah, so funny.”

  “Wait. I haven’t told you the punch line yet.” His grin was so wide, his eyes dancing. “Want to hear it?”

  “I’m all ears.” Because, at some point, I needed to know what the unholy fuck he was laughing at.

  “The next morning, the alpha woke up and wanted to know who was responsible for the whole thing.”

  “He didn’t remember?”

  “Turned out, the only one stoned was him. He’d somehow gotten ahold of some gummies that were not the kind he thought. It was nobody’s fault, just a simple mistake, but when we went over the whole day, we realized the plans had been fine, the wood was fine…everything was fine except for the guy in charge who was stoned out of his mind.”

  “No!”

  “Yep. The new plans are expected to arrive any day, but he has appointed a beta to handle the project.”

  “And it’s funny? He wasn’t enraged?”

  “Nope. Even he laughed. He said life was too short and big parties are too hard to come by.”

  “Wow.” I was pretty sure you had to be there to realize how funny it was, but I did know one thing. “He really is a great leader, your alpha.”

  “Our alpha,” he reminded me gently. “And he sure is.” With a sigh he gathered up the debris from our breakfasts and moved around the house to dump the packaging in the trash then returned. “Shall we paint?”

  The rest of the day was every bit as delightful, although I ended up as sore as I’d ever been by bedtime. I did the low parts, so I could be in the chair most of the time, and Cashel did the high parts. Midway through the afternoon Brandon and Escher arrived along with Moss and we finished the job and had my room back together by sunset. I celebrated by buying them all pizza along with another pack member on duty in my yard. I had an early class the next day, and so they all left at nine or so, each one leaning down to plant a sweet kiss on my cheek as he left.

  Another best day ever.

  Next morning, I couldn’t lift my arm above my shoulder to brush my hair, but it didn’t matter. My room was a gorgeous shade of pale spring green, and every stroke of the brush or roll of a roller had been done by either me or someone growing very dear to me. I rolled off to school with messy hair and a song in my heart.

  Chapter Twenty

  When I rolled out
of the library the next day, my arms more like noodles by my sides, from painting the day before and several hours of shelving the heaviest tomes we carried, I crossed paths with Christie.

  “Hey, what are you doing here?” she asked, her mouth making an O, her eyes wide.

  “Well, I work here. But you know that.” I snorted.

  “Oh, I’d forgotten.” Her voice sounded like I imagined a fairy who’d flown into a cloud of smoke might. She cracked up at her own antics. “Seriously, I stopped by to see if you wanted to hang out a little. I’ve been texting you but…”

  I reached into the bag at the side of my wheelchair then my back pocket then my purse. “I must’ve forgotten my phone at home.”

  “I bet the boys are all up in arms since you aren’t answering.”

  “How do you know they’ve been texting? Did they say something to you?”

  She shook her head. Her brown, shiny hair was in a messy bun while I had barely gotten mine into a braid, not because I liked braids but because my arms ached when I tried to do anything else. “Nope. But they are smitten, so I’m sure they did.”

  Smitten? I blew out a weighted breath and hung my head. It was like the last month or so came crashing down on me all at once.

  “Hey, do you need to get home right now? I think you need some girl talk time.”

  Understatement of the year.

  “I am going to make time. Mind if we go over there on the grass?”

  “Let’s go,” she said, and we parked ourselves under a huge oak tree. I climbed out of the chair and sat next to her, our backs resting against the trunk. “So, what’s bugging you?”

  “Sometimes, it’s a little overwhelming.”

  “What is?” she asked with concern, resting a hand on my arm.

  “From the time my parents died until a few months ago, my aunt took care of me. The only people I really saw were her and the housekeeper. She was a hermit of sorts, and, after a while, I became one, too. But then one day, I woke up and knew there was more in the world I wanted to do and see. My aunt didn’t like it, told me all the bad things the world had to offer. I guess I let some of her dire warning get in my head and almost expected them to come true.”

  She didn’t bob her head while I spoke or make any get-on-with-it noises. “Sometimes, parents make the world a monster so we will always hide with them, but the monster is so appealing, isn’t it? We want to see how bad he is.”

  I huffed out a laugh. She wasn’t wrong. “Yeah. And then I got here and…I’d actually expected to be lonely and making an effort to be social.”

  That made her laugh hard and loud for some reason. “And then boom! You’re a member of the pack and never have a moment’s peace.”

  “That’s not how I meant it.”

  She hunched over. “It’s okay. We can be a little…much sometimes. Not for other shifters, usually. I mean our animals crave the discipline and the pack mentality. But you were basically raised human. It has to be a lot to handle. Plus, all those beautiful men lining up for you.”

  “And another thing…” I murmured but didn’t finish the sentence, mainly because I didn’t know how.

  “Do you want advice, or do you want me to listen?” she prompted and then went silent.

  “Advice, I guess. I kissed Brandon and I kissed Moss and then I kissed Cashel, and I haven’t kissed Escher, but I want to, and…I’m a ho.” The words ran together under my breath. Cashel had said shifters had better hearing than humans, so I was hoping she heard me. I sure as hell wasn’t repeating it.

  She was fighting a smile, her lips tucked in between her teeth. But my friend could never hide the smile in her eyes.

  “Wendi, you are not a ho. Stop. I think you should let things happen naturally. If they don’t mind all being in your life, then let it develop. I know you are just coming into your wolf…”

  “What do you mean?” I interrupted her.

  She bit the inside of her cheek like she didn’t know whether to answer me or not. “I can feel her, scent her… She’s still so far away, but when I first met you, I wouldn’t have known you were a shifter if you weren’t pack. Now…”

  “I stink?” I asked, and we both cracked up.

  “No, but I can scent your wolf inside you. And for the record, she’s okay around me.” Her eyes flashed gold then she took my hand. My hackles went up.

  “What is it?” I asked as my spine went rigid.

  She scanned the common area. “I don’t know. Maybe nothing. Let’s talk about something else. I feel like we are being listened to.”

  While my senses were heightened, I didn’t feel scared, so I shrugged the whole thing off and went back to our previous topic. She was right. I should let things organically progress with the guys. See if maybe one of them was my mate.

  “What about the dance? Are you going?” Her voice was strained, guard still up.

  “Do people go to the dance?” I’d seen the posters around campus but hadn’t given it a second thought.

  “I haven’t, but then again I’ve never had a friend who attended school here. Usually, the only ones who go are those high-profile couples. The ones who go by Samanda or Johngelica. You know the ones.”

  I didn’t but nodded anyway.

  “We could go. I’ve never been to a dance.” It wasn’t as if I’d be dancing anyway. “I can just hang out and talk to people, right?”

  “I think you’ll manage a little dancing. Your admirers probably won’t let your feet touch the floor anyway.” She whipped her head around to look at me instead of shifty-eyeing the quad. “I keep forgetting you haven’t had these experiences. Um…have you ever been on a real date?”

  I shrugged one shoulder. That was my answer.

  “Oh…we are so going to the dance. Invite the guys, and let’s go as a group. It’s not like they are going to let you go alone anyway. Might as well.”

  She was probably right.

  They were protective as heck.

  “I don’t have a dress.” I knew that would lead to shopping. It was like I’d put out fresh meat to a tiger.

  “Then shop we must. Tomorrow good for you?”

  “Definitely.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The boys were more than happy to go to the dance. Moss bought us all tickets since he was a student and claimed it wasn’t right for me to buy them.

  I bought Christie’s ticket to be nice and also because I could.

  We’d bought our dresses the next day, and, ever since, the guys had been bugging me to see it.

  Wasn’t happening.

  Christie and I got our hair done and even mani-pedis the morning of the dance, and Moss told me he would pick me up and we would meet the others at school.

  I got dressed and knew I was ruining the drape of the dress by sitting in my chair, but as I got stronger and walked more day by day, I also ached all over and was more tired, not weak like I was before, but exhausted.

  Getting stronger took hard work.

  A knock at the door made my belly swirl with excitement. As I opened the door, Moss stood with a corsage in a plastic holder in his hands. An orchid was the center of the corsage, white with purple splices, surrounded by baby’s breath. It was the kind that slipped on your wrist instead of pinned on the dress.

  Did people really do corsages in this day and age? I didn’t care if they did. I loved it!

  He sucked in a breath and stood, speechless. A real feat for Moss.

  “That bad, huh?” I said, looking down at myself. I wasn’t one to get dressed up and do the whole makeup thing, but even I knew I looked damned good in this scarlet red. The dress itself was a one-shoulder dress and was poufy at the bottom.

  “Wendi, I couldn’t breathe when you opened the door. I’m sorry.”

  My entire body seemed to smile at his appraisal. “Thank you. You look pretty good yourself.”

  “Can I put this on your arm?” he asked, and I nodded while my cheeks rose in a temperature that swiftly snuck down m
y neck.

  He bent down and slid the corsage onto my wrist and then leaned forward and I swore he inhaled deeply while nuzzling my neck. “This red dress makes me want to do things that wouldn't be appropriate at a dance, Wendi.”

  “I should wear red more often, then.” It was crimson nightfall according to the saleslady, but I wasn’t going to correct him. I struggled for my next breath and heartbeat.

  He pulled back. “No way. Black is your signature. But feel free to wear this dress anytime. Breakfast. Class. Whatever.”

  I hadn’t really worn a lot of black before the first trip with Christie, but I had been adding to my boutique collection. My signature. Cool. “Noted. Shall we go?”

  He nodded, and I thought we would take my car, but he guided me toward a truck parked at the curb.

  “New ride?” I asked.

  “Yeah, um, the car wasn’t really practical for things.”

  “What things?” I asked. He wasn’t a carpenter like Cashel, so unless he carried a ton of books to class…

  “Not practical to take you around in. I’m planning on spending a lot of time with you, and your chair didn’t fit in my little sedan.” He tangled his fingers in his hair while he spoke.

  “That’s really considerate. Thank you.”

  If I’d been standing, I would’ve pulled him down for a kiss.

  More reasons to work on my strength.

  The dance was being held in a conference room, or it looked like one to me. The dance floor was already crowded with couples who were more squishing their bodies together and swaying while making out than actual dancing.

  Christie barreled toward me as we entered, and, though she had been with me when we got our hair and nails done, she gushed over the finished product as I did with hers. She really was gorgeous dressed in her shorter navy blue dress that set off her eyes. I wondered when she would find her mate.

  It soured my stomach to think one of my guys was her mate.

  My guys.

  Some guys show me some attention, and, all of the sudden, I think they’re mine.