Dark Wolf Running (Bloodrunners) (15 page)

“No, I won’t.” She opened her mouth to argue that surprising denial, but he cut her off, saying, “I’m not the marrying kind, El.”

“Are you kidding me? You’d be an incredible husband.”

He shook his head, his fingers clenching on her hip. “I won’t. Just trust me. That’s not gonna happen.”

She went silent, studying him. There was a story there in those roughly spoken words, but it was clear from the look on his face that it wasn’t one he wanted to share. And she couldn’t push. She wasn’t that big of a hypocrite. What right did she have to go snooping after his secrets when she held so tightly to so many of her own? So instead, she simply said, “That’s too bad.”

A pained expression flashed across his face, and the next thing she knew he was kissing the hell out of her again, ravaging her mouth, his tongue moving against hers in ways that could only be described as wicked and wild. She shoved her fingers into his thick hair and held him to her, kissing him back just as hungrily, loving the way he tasted. Honeyed warmth and sexy male with a touch of coffee. She felt a hard shudder go through his powerful frame, and his hands moved behind her, gripping her ass as he jerked her against him, possessive and rough, his mouthwatering body giving off a feverish heat.

And then, as quickly as it’d began, it was over.

“Damn it,”
he growled, suddenly ripping his mouth from hers and pushing her away with his hands on her shoulders. “We have to stop.”

“Stop?” She blinked up at him, trying to bring him into focus through the fog of lust still clouding her gaze. “Why?”

With his nostrils flaring and his jaw clenched, he said, “I can’t lose my focus here. It’s not safe. I will
not
put you in danger, no matter how badly I want you. You understand?”

She nodded, relief sweeping through her system in a sweet, stunning rush. He hadn’t been rejecting her. He was simply worried about the location, which made perfect sense.

But instead of moving away, he just stood there, staring down at her as if he wanted to eat her alive, until she finally forced out a tight laugh and gave him a push. “Stop trying to melt my circuits with that hungry look in your eyes. We’re leaving, remember?”

“Right,” he grunted, looking very much as if he wanted to take her down to the floor and do things that would make her forget not only her name but also the name of every person she’d ever known. Then he jerked his chin toward the door and said, “Okay. Let’s go.”

It took Elise only a moment to grab some of the things she wanted from the house, like her laptop, throw them into a backpack and slip it onto her shoulder. Then she set the alarm and locked the front door behind them as they left. She knew he wanted to drive his Jeep into the town center but suggested they walk instead. She wanted to show him that she was proud to have him by her side, to hell with what everyone else thought.

But that didn’t mean she wasn’t still reeling.

Jesus, Joseph and Mary...

Now that she’d calmed down a bit, her heart rate returning to something closer to normal, she was stunned by what had almost happened between them. By the way she’d reacted to his touch and taste. Her thoughts were in chaos, same as her emotions, and she knew he could sense that she was pulling back in a way, trying to regroup. She also knew, by the hard set of his jaw, that he wasn’t happy about how she was feeling. Striving to ease the growing tension between them as they headed into the town center on foot, toward her office, she said, “Jillian’s house is just around the corner from here. Do you think she and Jeremy will ever spend any time there?”

He kept his dark gaze focused ahead of them as he replied, “They intended to, before all hell started breaking loose. I like to think that when we weather this storm, the town will be a place they feel comfortable spending time in. Because Mase and the others are right. If the Silvercrest don’t learn to live without hate, then they won’t have to worry about bastards like the Whiteclaw. They’ll end up destroying themselves from the inside out. And as much as I don’t like it here, I would hate to see that happen.”

She murmured her agreement, knowing he was right. And that her father had been responsible for so much of that hatred. He’d poisoned minds, and now it would take time to undo the mess he’d created.

Curious about what kind of family Wyatt had come from, considering how messed up her own mother and father had been, she said, “You never talk about your parents. Where are they?”

They turned left at the next corner, nearing the street where her office was located. Nearly a minute had passed since she’d asked her question, and she’d thought he just wasn’t going to answer, when he finally pulled in a deep breath and said, “My maternal grandmother was Sioux. I spent most of my childhood on a reservation with her family and my parents. We would come here to visit, but that was all. My mom passed away from cancer when I was eighteen. Made my old man promise to keep it together for my sake, and he did. When I became a Runner, he stayed near her family. But I visit him a few times a year and we’re still close.”

“That’s why I never saw you, isn’t it? Because you didn’t grow up here.”

He glanced over at her with one of his ridiculously sexy, crooked smirks. “Even if I had, our paths wouldn’t have crossed. I sure as hell wouldn’t have been part of the social structure here in town.”

She looked away, biting her lower lip. “Still, it’s odd, isn’t it? The way we never met until the night of Max’s ceremony.”

“I never have been one for town,” he murmured, then gave a quiet laugh. “Which is a serious understatement. The times I was here before becoming a Runner, I laid low, hanging at my parents’ cabin that sat on the outskirts of town. I spent my time with guys like Mason and Jeremy, swimming in the local lake and hanging out down in places like Wesley, along with a few of the other human towns. But Shadow Peak never held any appeal to me. Hell, I don’t know how Carla and most of the guys stomached it for as long as they did.”

“Maybe it’s a good thing,” she admitted, tucking her windblown hair behind her ear. “If we
had
met, you would have hated me.”

He turned his head toward her, his expression making it clear that he didn’t like what she’d said.

“Don’t scowl. It’s true. If you think I’m a bitch now, you should have seen me then. I get embarrassed whenever I think about it. I had such a huge chip on my shoulder, I swear I went out of my way to be...awful to people.”

“Yeah, well, I like to think I’d have been smart enough to see through the act.”

Surprised, she lifted her brows. “What makes you think it was an act?”

“Despite what you keep telling me, I
do
know you, El. You’ve had a shit life, thanks to things that were beyond your control, and you haven’t always handled it well. But you have a good heart. You’re a good person.”

Oh, my God. She didn’t have any idea how to respond, his unexpected words hitting her low in her body, filling her with warmth. She wanted to tell him that he was amazing. That he was too good for someone like her. That even though she didn’t deserve it, she wanted to take a chance and—

“Wyatt!”
she suddenly screamed, reeling with pain as she clutched the side of her head and staggered into him.

“Fuck!” he growled, his strong arms wrapping around her as he quickly pulled her between two buildings. “Jesus Christ, El. Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered, tilting her throbbing head back to look up at him. “What happened?”

“Some bastard threw a goddamn rock at you and then took off running,” he said through his gritted teeth, gently inspecting the side of her head. When she asked how it looked, he told her that there was a small knot swelling up, as well as blood oozing from a shallow but painful-looking cut.

“Oh. Well, considering he threw the rock at me and not at you, I guess we can say that the Lycans here are definitely more accepting of the Runners now. At least more than they are of me.” She forced a grin onto her lips, trying to lighten his mood. “You probably shouldn’t be seen here with me, Wyatt. Want to put a bag over my head?”

“Don’t.” His voice was rough and guttural, with more of the beast in it than she’d ever heard before. “This isn’t the time for fucking jokes. That scared the hell out of me.”

“Sorry. But I’m fine. Really. You don’t have to look so worried.”

He gave a sharp nod, his nostrils flaring as he slowly released his breath. “We’re only a few doors down from your office,” he told her, a cold, deadly rage burning in his eyes. “I’ll cover you when we hit the street and walk you down. Then I want you to go inside and lock the door, okay?”

Frowning, she asked, “Why? Where are you going to be?”

Glaring at her bleeding scalp, he said, “I need to find the stupid asshole who did this to you and teach him a lesson.”

“Wyatt, no!” she argued, clutching the hard bulge of his biceps. “I don’t want you to leave me. And I don’t want you wasting your time on some idiot.” Forcing a smile, she added, “If you found him and tried to kill him, he’d probably just whine about it.”

“I’m not gonna kill him, El.” A muscle pulsed in the hard edge of his jaw, and his voice got lower. “But I wouldn’t mind making him sorry he was ever born.”

“Well, considering he’s probably one of Farrow’s goons, I’m sure he’s already sorry. So let’s just get out of here. I...I want out of this place. I want to go home.”

“Home?” he repeated, an arrested expression on his face that told her just how deeply her words had affected him.

“I want to be back in the Alley, where I feel safe,” she whispered. “Will you take me?”

He nodded, keeping a close eye on her as they quickly grabbed what she needed from her office, then made their way back to the Jeep. They didn’t say much at first as he drove out of town, both lost in their thoughts...and she wondered if they were thinking about the same thing....

Trying to figure out precisely when she’d started to think of the Alley as her
home.

Chapter 9

T
hey eventually struck up a conversation about music and movies, of all things, as they made the drive back to the Alley. Wyatt was friendly and funny, as well as a good listener. Elise always got the sense that he was taking in everything that she said, no matter how trivial, unlike so many of the other men she’d known. Her brothers had never been dismissive toward her like that, but her father had. And then there were the chauvinistic jerks she encountered at work and in the local business groups. But she had Wyatt’s complete focus, and she’d have been lying through her teeth if she’d said it wasn’t sexy as hell. And yet, despite the camaraderie between them, he showed the unmistakable signs of tension and fatigue.

She could tell by the dark circles under his eyes that he hadn’t been sleeping well, and couldn’t help but wonder what secrets he was hiding. Considering how many she was holding close to her chest, Elise recognized the signs, and she wanted to know what haunted him. Had someone hurt him? It took her by surprise, the anger that spilled through her system when she thought of someone causing him pain, be it physical or emotional. She wanted to ask but knew better than to push. Knew that by doing so she could very well end up shoving him away, when there were too many parts of her at the moment that simply wanted to pull him a little closer.

That night, they stayed in and ate dinner in his cabin, just the two of them, since she’d had to take some pain meds for her head. He cooked, which surprised the hell out of her—and even more surprising was the fact that he was damn good at it. But she should have realized he would be. Wyatt Pallaton was the kind of man who excelled at anything he put his mind to, whether it was Bloodrunning, cooking fettuccine Alfredo, or making her open her eyes and start looking at the world again, rather than avoiding it.

And he was the man who’d somehow made her start thinking about sex again, when she hadn’t thought it would ever happen.

She hadn’t been a virgin when her world had fallen apart three years ago. There had been a few before that night. Not many, contrary to what most in the pack probably believed. She’d had attitude, and they’d assumed she liked to sleep around. But the truth was that it’d never been all that easy for her to trust a man enough to enjoy herself with him. Sadly, the few times she’d engaged in sex, it’d been more about rebelling against her father than it’d been about finding pleasure. And to be honest, finding pleasure had never been all that important to her. Not when every day of her life was a constant battle to feel worthy and useful.

But it was important to her now. To the woman she was becoming. And she’d finally admitted to herself today who she wanted to help her find it. Even knowing there wasn’t a chance in hell she could keep him, she still wanted to seize this moment and have it. Own it. As many of these moments as she could get, until it was too late and her secrets stood between them, keeping them apart.

They’d finished dinner over an hour ago, just sitting and talking at the table until well after the sun had finally slipped beneath the horizon. Then they’d loaded the dishwasher together, she’d gone to take a shower, and Wyatt had headed to his bedroom. With her hair still damp and her body clad in nothing more than a skimpy bra-and-panties set, tank top and cropped pair of sweats, she walked to his closed bedroom door. She counted out ten heavy, painful heartbeats, then reached down and twisted the doorknob, walking into the room without even knocking. He looked over from where he was sprawled across a massive king-size bed in nothing but his jeans, watching a ball game on the TV. Elise could tell by the look on his face that she’d shocked the hell out of him by coming in here, and she quickly blurted, “I can’t sleep.”

He muted the TV, and she watched his abs ripple as he sat up in the middle of the bed, the mouthwatering sight making her feel a little light-headed. “Nightmares?”

When she finally forced her gaze back up to his face, she shook her head. “No. I, um, I haven’t actually
tried
to sleep yet. But I know I won’t be able to.”