Lycan Redemption (6 page)

His hair had been damp, and at that very moment, she’d wished that she was one of those types of girls who had one-night flings. She had no doubt he’d be pure heat between the sheets. But she wasn’t, and never would be, that type. She could never have sex with someone she barely knew, then walk away as easily as if walking away from a good movie she would remember fondly at times, but carry no emotional ties to.

“It wasn’t completely a lazy afternoon. You made me let you cut my hair,” Patrick said.

“It needed cut, Patrick. It was getting long.”

“Galen’s hair is long,” he scoffed.

Myka frowned.

“You’re right,” Galen said. “I’ve been traveling and haven’t had time to get it cut, but I’d be happy to let Myka cut it for me.” He looked at her. “If you’re up for it?”

“I could do that, if you’re sure. I’m not a professional,” she replied.

“If you mess it up, it’ll grow back.” Galen shrugged.

“Can I be excused?” Patrick asked, apparently bored with all the haircut talk.

“I don’t know. Can you?” She shrugged.

“
May
I be excused?” Patrick rolled his eyes.

“Yes. You may.” She smiled. “Why don’t you go and read? I don’t think you’ve had a chance to read your superhero series for a while, have you?”

Myka knew he’d look at the pictures more than anything since he couldn’t make out words that were more than four letters long. She’d worked with him on his reading to give him a head start for when he started school--and because she thought reading was important--but she wasn’t a teacher. He was a quick learner, but he was still only five.

“That sounds like a good idea.” Patrick stood and turned to leave the room. “See ya, Galen.”

“Later,” Galen answered.

“I hope he’s not getting a cold,” Myka muttered as she ate a forkful of green beans.

“I’m sure he’ll be good as new in the morning.” He stood and took his now-empty plate to the sink.

“You’re probably right.”

“I’ll do the dishes. Thank you for dinner. It was delicious as usual.”

“Thank you, but you don’t have to do the dishes.”

She stood and scraped what was left on her and Patrick’s plates into the trash, and went to dry the dishes Galen had already started to wash.

She needed to make it clear to Galen about what happened in the barn earlier—or rather, what wouldn’t be happening again. She didn’t quite know how to bring the subject up. Maybe it would be better to simply ignore it. Maybe it would go away.
Yeah. Right. It won’t ever go away. Even when he does.

“Um.” She cleared her throat. “We need to talk.”

He sighed after placing the last dish in the strainer and pulled the plug to let the water drain from the sink. Turning, he leaned his hip against the counter, crossed his arms over his chest, and stared down at her.

“Do you want me to leave because of what happened in the barn earlier?”

“What? Oh! No.”

“That is what you wanted to talk about, though, right?”

“How do you do that?”

“What?”

“Know what I’m thinking before I say it?”

“I’m perceptive that way.” He grunted, shoved his fingers through his hair, and walked to the back door to peer out the window. “What happened in the barn happened.” He turned to face her. “I’m not sorry it did. You are beautiful, and I won’t deny I’m deeply attracted to you.”

Heat rushed through her veins and right to her cheeks. “It can’t happen again. I don’t sleep around.”

“We already had that discussion. I don’t sleep around either. That isn’t what this is about.”

“Then what exactly is it about? Because we both know this thing, whatever it is between us, won’t end up going anywhere.”

He took three steps toward her, and she found herself pushed against the counter, surrounded by a big, hard, angry-looking Galen.

“But what if I want it to?” His hazel eyes held that strange shimmer again. His face was dark, and his lips were drawn in a straight line.

He was intimidating as hell. The top of her head barely came to his pecs, but she didn’t feel threatened. For some unknown reason, she was sure that if she protested, he’d back off in an instant. Now, however, she intended to enjoy the heat that surrounded her.

“You planning on settling down here now?”

Her words made him cringe. “If I could settle down, here with you would be my first choice.” He leaned closer.

“Why can’t you?” Her heartbeat sped up, and his heat bled into every pore of her skin.

“It’s complicated,” he breathed.

“Things are only as complicated as you make them. ‘It’s complicated’ is only an excuse that people who don’t want to deal with the
complication
use.”

“Maybe. But sometimes it really is complicated.” He reached out and stroked his thumb softly down her cheek.

“Uh-huh. I’ve been through complicated. Complicated can be dealt with.”

“If it was only that simple.” He sighed. “If it wasn’t complicated, what would you say then?”

Her lungs nearly stopped working when he bent closer. “I can’t deny that I’m attracted to you. Any woman in her right mind would be. But that’s not what I’m looking for.”

“What are you looking for?” His breath fanned over her cheek as he continued to softly stroke her face with his thumb.

“I’m not looking at all. But if I was, I would be looking for a man who would take care of me and Patrick. Who would always contribute, not because he had to, but because he wanted to. Who would consider us the most important things in his life. A man who was honest and hardworking. A man I could always count on. A man that would love me as much as I would him. A man who would be faithful and as loyal as I would be to him. A man who would always be by my side. A man I could share my life with. A man who would share his life with me.”

“Why do the things that matter most, the things that are easiest to give to those you love, always the first things neglected? If more people shared your view on relationships, there wouldn’t be so much heartbreak. I want the same in a woman. But know this, Myka. If circumstances were different for me, I’d take you up on the challenge. I’d be more than willing to fill the bill to your order. I’d demand nothing less in return. If I gave myself to you, you can bet you’d be stuck with me for life.”

His words sent slivers of hope through her, but those slivers were quickly doused with the reality of here and now. Galen had made it clear once again that he was passing through. Why did he have to come into her life if there was no chance of them being together? He’d proven to be hardworking. He cared about her and Patrick, or he wouldn’t have insisted on them staying out of the rain when they’d unloaded the hay. He was good with the animals. He had been up front and honest with her. Those were some serious points in his favor.

“I wish things were different,” she whispered.

He closed the small gap between them and took her lips in a slow kiss that scorched her blood. But he broke the kiss too soon for her liking. Her breaths came in short, excited pants, and heat pooled between her thighs as he stared down at her with eyes that seemed to glow brighter than before.

He sniffed at her—which reminded her of a wild animal learning the scent of its prey—then groaned.

“I wish things were different as well, angel. Now are you going to cut my hair?”

“Yes. I can do that. How do you normally wear it?” she asked.

“Short, with a little length on the top.”

She nodded. “I’ll get my clippers. Have a seat on one of the chairs.”

She left the room and came back a few minutes later carrying a towel, clippers, and some other things she needed. After plugging in the clippers, she draped the towel over his shoulders. “To keep the hair off your shirt.”

He stood, and removed his T-shirt, and she barely contained a gasp. Holy hell, the man was ridiculously perfect. He sat back down and pulled the towel over his shoulders.

“I’d rather avoid getting hair on it altogether if that’s okay with you.”

“S-Sure.” She fastened the edges together with a hair clip and went to work.

His unsettling gaze watched every move she made, and her hands slightly shook, making it hard to hold the clippers steady. She placed a short attachment on the end and cut everything below the crown of his head. His hair was thick and soft, and she ran her fingers through it more than necessary. Not to mention he smelled wonderful.

The way her body was responding to him told her that maybe being this close to him hadn’t been the best idea. She shut off the clippers, and when she reached for a longer attachment for the top of his hair, she dropped it. As she bent and scooped it up with trembling hands, long fingers encircled her wrist.

He lifted her hand until it was in front of his face. “I feel it too, Myka,” he said huskily.

She pulled away from him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She knew exactly what he was talking about.

He grimaced. Thankfully, he didn’t say another word as she finished up, because had he done so, she might have ended up jumping him right in the middle of the kitchen with Patrick in the other room. She folded the towel in half to contain the hair and carefully removed it from his shoulders. When he stood, he was only scant inches from her. She was eye level with a seriously ripped and broad chest.

She barely refrained from reaching for him, aching to see if he was as hard as he looked. But suddenly, he snatched his T-shirt from the table and backed away from her. She barely contained the urge to call him back.

“Thank you for the haircut. Good night.”

“Night.”

She watched his retreat out the door. Holy moly. How was she going to keep her hands off him? He was temptation. Hell, he was more than temptation. He was temptation dipped in chocolate. She’d just told him no more than five minutes ago that what happened in the barn would not happen again. She squared her shoulders.
Okay, girl. The facts are simple. At some point Galen will leave, but right now, you need the help.
That meant she’d keep her lips to herself for Patrick’s sake.

* * * *

Galen sprinted through the woods after shedding his clothes. The chilly breeze cooled his hot skin and cleared his mind. His wolf leaped to the surface, and being an ancient, the welcomed change took place in a heartbeat. Where feet once were, four paws lightly smacked the wet ground as he ran.

He’d barely been able to keep his hands off Myka when she’d cut his hair. Whether she denied it or not, her trembling hands had been proof enough—minus the fact that he could scent her tantalizing excitement—that she was as affected by him as he was by her. If Patrick hadn’t been in the house, he had no doubt things would have turned out differently.

He stopped and sniffed the air. Nothing he could detect seemed amiss. Not a hint of another lycan on the air. He rubbed against a tree before going three trees over and doing the same. Throughout the night, he’d mark the whole perimeter this way to warn other animals and lycans away from the territory surrounding Myka’s.

Scenting the place also had its downside. It put up a huge red flag for any of those who were chasing him. That didn’t bother him so much since he’d be leaving before morning. If any of the other lycans who’d been hunting him did happen along, they’d simply assess the situation and realize he was no longer here. He hoped his scent would either conceal Myka’s presence from any rogue who might happen along or scare them off.

The thought of leaving her alone was crippling. His stomach churned, and his instincts screamed at him to stay. He vowed right then and there that he would take care of the current mess he was in and find his way back to her. They would be together no matter what he had to do to achieve it. She was his other half. They weren’t meant to be apart. He’d be damned if he let anyone take her from him now.

As the rain cleared, the moon rose higher and lit the sky. It was a beautiful sight in its almost-full phase. The canopy of the trees let enough light shine through to illuminate the leaf-covered ground with a pale glow. A few hours later, he’d finished marking the perimeter, and started back toward the farmhouse. Although it would make his leaving much more difficult, he had to see Myka one last time.

Once back at the barn, he shifted and dressed. After throwing his few belongings into his duffel, he started for the house. He’d planned a quick peek in the window, and then would be on his way, but fate, again, had other plans for him. Myka was pacing in the kitchen with a telephone to her ear. After speaking into the receiver, she hung up and sobbed. His gut twisted. Why was she upset? His protective instincts were overwhelming, and he quickly knocked on the door. When she answered, he could see the tears glistening in her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Patrick is sick. I can’t get his fever down, and Doc Wheeler isn’t answering. I left him a message, but I don’t know if he’ll even get it.” She took in a stuttering breath. “I’ve given him acetaminophen, but it’s not helping.”

“Can we take him into town and find the doc?”

“I don’t want to risk it. If Doc is on call somewhere else, I’ll have had Patrick out in the cold air for nothing. The only option left is to take him to the hospital, but it’s over an hour away.”

“Can I see him?”

Myka nodded.

Galen’s heart sank when he saw the listless boy lying in bed. He was drenched in sweat and shivering. His cheeks were dark pink and his face flushed.

“Has this ever happened before?”

“Not since he’s come to live with me, but Travis used to talk about Patrick getting horrible fevers.”

Galen laid his palm across Patrick’s forehead. Damn. The kid was burning up. He’d been around long enough to have witnessed fevers like this taking down grown men. It was urgent that they get Patrick’s temperature down as soon as possible.

“Myka.” When she didn’t answer, he said it louder. “Myka!”

She jumped. “What?”

“Get him undressed. We need to get him in a tepid bath. Okay?”

She nodded.

“I’ll be right back.”

She still hadn’t moved when he went to leave, and he gently took her by the shoulders.