Emmitt's Treasure: Judgement of the Six Companion Series, book 2 (12 page)

“Where in there does biting become involved?”

Winifred coughed to cover her laugh, Jim laughed outright, but I didn’t laugh at all.

Winifred, I didn’t say a thing about biting.  Ask Jim if he did.

There was a pause before she confirmed he hadn’t either.

“Can I ask where these questions are coming from?” Winifred asked Michelle.

“Just curious.  Maybe we should eat lunch.”

Michelle was obviously trying to change the subject.

I’m worried,
I sent to Winifred.

I think you are right to be.  I’m considering sending out a message to all werewolves asking for someone to step forward if they’ve shared information with a human or heard of someone sharing information with a human.

Let’s hold off on that.  There will be questions, and Michelle isn’t ready for attention from any more of our kind.

Very well.

*    *    *    *

After we got home from the lake, Michelle and the boys stayed in her apartment for the rest of the night.  Restless, I went upstairs and continued my work across the hall.  It didn’t take long for Jim to join me.  While I painted, he leaned against the island cabinets I’d installed and sipped one of the beers he’d brought with him.

“Spit it out,” I said after a long silence.

“Why?  It’s good beer.”

I shook my head and grinned.  I’d forgotten just how much he goofed around.

“You know what I think?” he said.

“That we should go to the bar and drink a week’s wages in an effort to get drunk?”

He laughed.  “That would have been my thought if Winifred hadn’t threatened to command me never to drink alcohol if I ‘wasted pack money’ like that again.”

“Ouch.”  I moved to paint under the hanging cabinets.

“Yeah.  Did you know she commanded me to go a whole day without eating?”

I stopped painting to look at him.  His expression was entirely serious, and I couldn’t tell if he was lying.

“She wouldn’t do that.”

“She would if she wanted me to learn what it felt like to be compelled to do something that I was completely against doing.”  He shrugged.  “Training exercise.”

“And, how was it?”

“I nearly died,” he said before tipping back his beer.

“Doubt it.”

“She baked all day.  I could smell the cookies.  I could see the cookies.  I could even touch the damn things.  But I couldn’t bring myself to put them in my mouth.  Man, I wanted to.  I really did.”

He cracked open another beer.

“When my time was up and I could eat again, I nearly ripped her door off trying to get to the cookies.”

“Bet she had something to say about that.”

“Yep.  She did.  Just like Michelle will when she finally gives you the go-ahead to have her cookies.  Don’t let your obsession control you, Emmitt, or it will drive her away.”

I stared at him, really seeing my brother and what he had to offer.

“When did you get to be so damn smart?”

“If you ask Winifred, I’m not.”  He grinned, then sauntered out the door.  I stayed in the apartment, working until exhaustion won out over my need to be close to Michelle.

The next day, Michelle brought Liam and Aden out to play.  They ran for the sprinkler, but she was pensively quiet as she sat on the porch.  Considering everything she’d been through in such a short time, I left her to her thoughts and played in the water with the boys.

The following day, I twitched with what I felt was a growing distance between us.  After Jim left for work, I went upstairs to the new apartment.  It was coming along nicely.  Another week or two and it would be ready for Michelle and the boys.  Then, I’d be living right across the hall.

Around seven, I heard the boys run down the steps, and Aden came back up crying not long afterward.

Problem?
I sent Winifred.

He wanted to play with Jim.  They’re growing bored.

I can come play.

No, I think it would be best for you to finish the apartment.  I have a better idea to keep them busy.

I went back to grouting the backsplash in the kitchen and listened to Michelle negotiate with Aden to calm him down.  A few minutes later, Winifred knocked on Michelle’s door.

“Good morning, Michelle.  Liam mentioned he didn’t know the ABC song.  Would you mind if they spent some time with me a few days a week so I can work on their alphabet with them?”

Silence greeted the question.

“There’s nothing wrong with them not knowing their ABCs, yet.  Four and five is just the right age to start learning.  I have so many of my old materials left, and, frankly, I miss working with children.  I thought I would offer.”

“I need to make cookies,” Aden said firmly.

I could just picture him crossing his arms in a stubborn stance and grinned.

“I’ll send him down when we’re done,” Michelle said.

Since both the apartment doors were open, I heard the two of them make the dough and Aden tromp downstairs when his part was done.  Michelle quietly put the cookies in the oven, and heat began to drift into the hall.  Even with the windows open, it was growing too hot to work inside.  I finished grouting the tiles on the bathroom floor then went to gather what I needed to paint the exterior.  I figured I’d start with the third floor and work my way down.

When I stepped out onto the porch, I found Michelle lying on her stomach on a blanket.  She looked up at me with a smile.  The usual t-shirt she wore over her suit was missing.  I swallowed hard at the sight of all that honeyed skin and almost dropped half the painting supplies.

She jumped and offered to help me.  I barely noticed surrendering two cans of paint because I was staring at the prettiest bikini top that ever existed.  My mind went into overdrive imagining what lay beneath.

She lifted a can.  “What are you doing with all of this?”

With effort, I met her gaze.  My head was fuzzy, and my ears were ringing.  It was like her chest had a gravitational pull on my eyes.  They wanted to drift down again.  Sweat coated my forehead.  I hoped my teeth weren’t getting longer.  Her expectant gaze had me scrambling to recall what she’d asked.  The supplies.  Right.

“The outside needs painting, too.  I thought I’d start on it while the paint dried in there.”

My voice was rough with need, and I hoped she wouldn’t notice.  My worry broke my concentration, and I looked down.  It wasn’t that I was a sex-starved pervert—I mean, I was that too—but there was more to this pull than that.  Every new inch I saw, every fact I discovered about her past, it all just made me crave more.  More Michelle.  More time together.  More of a relationship than what we had now.  And, if I wanted more, I needed to play it cooler than I was.  Just like Jim had said.

I turned away and walked to the far corner of the porch.  With each step I focused on my breathing and my pulse, trying to calm and center myself.  Then, the aroma of fresh cookies hit me, bringing back Jim’s reference from the night before.  I wanted her cookies badly...damn it.  Steady and cool, I reminded myself as I slowly breathed in and out.

“Is the apartment almost done?” she asked from behind me.  She set the cans next to the pile of supplies I made.

When I turned around, I felt more like myself and easily maintained eye contact.

“I still need to work on some plumbing, but it’s close.  Want to see it?”

While she hadn’t blinked at my prior eye-groping, my steady, respectful gaze made her nervous.

“That’s okay,” she said.

I didn’t want her to run away.

“I could actually use your input on the colors in the bathroom.  Nana bought a variety of cans on clearance, and I’m down to a yellow and a grey.”

She nodded, and I led her to her future new apartment.  I watched her study the large, open living room and kitchen.  Her gaze slid over the neutral wall colors, the roughed-in kitchen cabinets, and the large, earth-toned tiles.  She looked impressed, which made it easier to breathe.

“Wow.  This looks great.”

“I’m glad you like it,” I said.  “Let me show you the bathroom.”

I led her down the short hallway to the bathroom.  The toilet was sitting outside the door, waiting to be installed.

“We can’t go in,” I said, stopping by the toilet.  “The grout is still wet, but you can see the colors in the tile from here.”

She moved to peek in, her hair brushing over her shoulder and knocking the molding I’d set against the frame.  I reached out and grabbed it before it fell.  Something about my reaction scared her, though.  The sour scent of her fear filled the air, and she shuddered.

“Don’t,” I said hoarsely.

She looked up at me with wide eyes.

“You are the one person who will never have to fear me.”

Fear turned to confusion.

“I’m sorry I kneed you,” she said.

I was sorrier that I’d scared her enough to do it.  Reaching out, I gently touched her cheek, feathering my fingertips over her skin from temple to jaw.  Her pulse jumped, and the sweet smell of her interest in me filled the air.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” I said, moving closer.

Her gaze went to my lips, an invitation if I ever saw one.  The hitch of her breath as her gaze met mine was the confirmation I needed.  I moved in.

“And I’m sorry I missed it,” Jim said from the living room, making her jump.

I dropped my hand and glanced over her shoulder at Jim.  Michelle put some distance between us and gave the bathroom one more look.

“The yellow won’t work, but the grey might.  Too bad you didn’t have a blue-grey to match the flecking in the tile.”

“Thank you,” I said.  If she wanted blue-grey, I’d buy some.

She nodded and started toward the living room where Jim stood watching us.

“Why are you here, Jim?” I asked.

“Aden mentioned something about cookies.  Hope you didn’t give any to Emmitt.”

When Michelle stepped into the light of the large room, Jim wolf-whistled.

“I regret my decision to think of you as a sister,” he said with a grin.  “Nana can sure pick a suit.  I think you should really wear a t-shirt over that, though.”

Michelle blushed.

“Shut up, Jim,” I said, keeping my tone even as she walked out the door.  Once she was out of hearing, I turned on him.

“What was that?”

“That was me stopping you from making a mistake.”

“A mistake?  You’re telling her to wear more clothes.”  I ran a hand over the back of my neck, frustrated.

“She’s already confused and scared with what she has on her plate.  Kissing her would have just added more, and she would have taken off for sure.  I thought I made that clear last night.”

It annoyed me to know he was probably right.

“You haven’t taken your Elder vows, yet.  So stop interfering like you are one.”

He had the nerve to laugh.

“Even if I went downstairs and took them now, you still wouldn’t have liked what I did.  Hell, I didn’t like what I did.  But it was a necessary block to see this to the end, Emmitt.”

*    *    *    *

Michelle and the boys ate in their apartment that night.  Winifred didn’t comment when I declined to have dinner with her and Jim.  I opted to go for a run instead.  Sprinting between trees and howling at the moon—more like yelling my frustration at it—helped calm me down a little.  I was still too restless when I returned, so I worked in the apartment, touching up paint until close to dawn.  Jim’s couch didn’t really appeal to me, but I lay on it anyway, with the apartment door open so I could listen.

Jim unintentionally woke me from a light sleep when he left.  After a quick shower, I went back to the third floor and looked at my progress from the evening before.  I’d scraped the back side of the house so well, very little still clung to the wood siding.  Taking a wire brush, I went over the surface one more time.

From within, I heard Michelle and the boys wake and get ready for their day.  By the time I finished the back wall, Winifred had already claimed the boys for another morning of learning their alphabet.  I knew she was only too happy to teach two willing boys.  Jim wasn’t the only one who’d been lonely here.

A sound on the porch pulled me from my thoughts.  The steps were light, but not light enough for a werewolf.  I smiled and purposely met her as she rounded the corner.  She gasped in surprise, almost running into me.  I caught her with one arm and stole the cookie she had in her hand with the other.

She nervously smiled at me when I took a bite and offered it back to her.

“I actually brought it for you,” she said.  Anxiety coated her scent.

I studied her in silence and wondered how long it’d take to learn her moods and reactions.  According to Dad, Mom still kept him guessing.  I didn’t like it.

“Will you tell me about your family?”  She took up the broom I’d set aside and started sweeping.  “Please.”

I wanted to grin.  She was finally asking questions.