(Mis)fortune (11 page)

“Oh!” I said, finally understanding.  I spun on my heel, still clutching the t-shirt.  The ground lurched under my feet then held steady.

The rasp of his zipper had me closing my eyes in humiliation.

“Is it too late to ask for another shot?” I whispered in mortification.

“Yep,” he confirmed from behind me, a second before he scooped me into his arms.

The world spun in a slow motion, and I leaned my head against his chest.  Being carried was kind of nice.

“Now, you promised to answer a few questions,” he said in soft amusement.

Steady pounding woke me.  I groaned and pulled the pillow over my head.  It didn’t block out the noise.

“Mimi,” Liam said, shaking my shoulder.  “Someone’s at the door.  I think it’s Uncle Jim.”

Uncle Jim?  What?  I tossed aside the pillow, struggled to lift my head from the mattress, and tried to focus on Liam’s face.

Last night came back in a rush, and I groaned aloud, letting my head fall back down.

“Should I get the door?” Liam said quietly, shaking my shoulder.

Worst.  Sister.  Ever.  I pulled my hung-over butt from bed and looked at Aden.  He still slept on my other side.  Thankfully, only Liam witnessed my current state.  I stumbled into the kitchen and checked the clock.  Six a.m.  I was going to kill Jim.

I yanked open the door with a scowl and glared not at Jim but at Emmitt.  In one hand, he offered two coated pills.  In the other hand, he had a glass of water.  He elevator-eyed me, and a slight quirk lifted his lips.  I took pain relievers without comment and swallowed them.

“I heard Liam moving around and wanted to know if he’d like to come down and eat with me.”  His warm, soft voice melted my middle and brought back the memory of last night’s question and answer session that had followed Emmitt’s big reveal.  I cringed.

Emmitt: “If you’re not worried about David, who are you worried about?”

Me:  “Can I sleep in your shirt tonight?”

Emmitt:  “Why did David keep you locked away?”

Me:  “Blake told him to.  I really liked when you kissed my neck even though I tried not to.”

Notable pause in questioning.

Emmitt:  “Who’s Blake?”

Me:  “I like you without a shirt.  A lot.”  Long pause.  “I think I’m going to be sick.”

It could have been worse.

“I’m never drinking again,” I whispered.

Emmitt grinned.  “I like your pajamas.”

I looked down at myself.  I wore his t-shirt.  Damn.

“We’re not on speaking terms today,” I said, meeting his eyes again.

He laughed and greeted Liam who joined us, dressed for the day.

“Send Aden down when he’s up.”

*    *    *    *

I managed another hour of sleep before Aden woke.  Enough time to lose the headache.  I sent Aden downstairs, jumped in the shower, and contemplated the night before.

After failing to answer Emmitt seriously, he’d carried me upstairs.  I flinched as I recalled how I’d clung to him.  So much for my little talk about being less than friends.

He’d opened the door and set me on my feet, then waited in the living room while I shuffled into the bathroom with his shirt.  I’d sniffed it and grinned like an idiot for a moment before changing.  When I’d stumbled back into the hallway, I’d hesitated.  Despite the tequila, I’d realized the danger in getting too close to him again.  From a good ten steps away, I’d wished him a good night.  He’d grinned at me, wished me sweet dreams, and closed the door.  I’d crawled into bed between the boys.

I took my time drying my hair and getting dressed.  Moving slower seemed wise.  When I left the apartment, the smell of cooking food hit me, and I almost gagged.  I concentrated on the steps to distract myself, and my stomach settled.

At the bottom of the stairs, both apartment doors stood open.  Aden’s voice came from Jim’s place so I stepped through that door.

Nana sat at the island, supervising Aden’s attempt at cutting a sausage until I walked in then her watchful gaze fell on me.  She looked me over from head to toe, turned to Emmitt, and glared at him.  He wouldn’t meet her eyes.  Pretending not to notice, I planted a kiss atop each boy’s head.

“What do you guys want to do today?” I asked quietly.  Though the headache was gone, my head still felt tender.

Jim piped up.  “It’s going to be hot and humid.  Can we go back to the lake?”

I nodded, not really caring.  Napping on the beach didn’t seem like it had a downside.

“Michelle and I will get the groceries this time,” Emmitt said, pouring syrup over a stack of pancakes.  He handed the plate to me.

I wrinkled my nose but reached for it.

“No,” Nana said.  “I think you should take Jim to teach him how to shop.”

Emmitt turned back to the pan, but I caught his slight frown.  I managed a forkful of pancake before my roiling stomach let me know it wouldn’t tolerate more.  I discreetly slid my plate toward Jim.  He took it with a wink and ate the rest in a few large bites.

Emmitt and Jim left with the truck, and while the boys changed into their suits, I helped Nana Wini pack the car.

“So are you staying?” she asked with her head in the trunk.

“It’s not like I have a choice.”  It slipped out before I could stop it.

She straightened and gave me a curious look.  “What do you mean?”

Handing her the towels, I shrugged.  “There’s nowhere else for me to go.”

“And if there were?”

“Then, I wouldn’t have come here in the first place.”  I would have headed straight to that mystery place of safety and never met Emmitt in the diner.

She nodded and put the towels in the trunk next to the blanket.  “Fate has a funny way of working things.  I’d like to say it does things for the best, but how can I when there is so much death and tragedy in the world.  No, the best we can do is think there must be some kind of purpose to this mess.”

Words of wisdom.  There had to be a reason I met Emmitt and came here.  I liked thinking like that.  Better than dwelling on the possibility that he was in league with Blake.

*    *    *    *

Nana and I drove the boys to the beach.  They ran to the edge of the water while we carried our things to the shore.  I set my armful down, and Nana spread out the blanket.  Since they were content to play in the sand, I eased down onto the blanket, ready to soak up the warm sun.  From her beach bag, Nana pulled out a floppy sun hat and wordlessly handed it to me.  I didn’t realize how much the sun hurt my eyes, thus my head, until plopping it on.

Sighing, I laid back and closed my eyes.  With the heat relaxing me, I slipped into a light doze.

A drop of something cold splashed on my stomach, startling me awake, and I sat up with a squeal.  Emmitt stood over me.  I squinted up at him.  The sight of him glistening in the sun, without a shirt, made it hard to swallow.  In his hand, he held a sweating bottle of water, the source of the drip.

He apologized with a grin, not looking very repentant.  Before I could say anything, he sat behind me and handed me the water.

“Your head will start hurting again.  Drink up.”

As usual, my stomach went crazy with him so close.  Unable to lie back down, I accepted the bottle and eyed the water level.  It didn’t reach the top.  He shrugged and grinned when I arched a brow at him.

I took a few large swallows and handed him the bottle, expecting him to leave.  Instead, he settled back on his elbows and looked out at the water.

Nana mumbled something I didn’t catch, stood, and joined the boys at the water’s edge.

“About last night,” Emmitt started.

“Don’t want to talk about it.”  I moved over to Nana’s spot and lay back.  My head hit abs, not sand.  I sat up again and did a double take.

“How did you move...”  I didn’t finish my question.  I didn’t want to know.

“I thought after showing you what I am, you’d have more questions for me.  Other than if you could wear my shirt.”

My face flushed.  I tilted the hat to block his view of me and wrapped my arms around my knees.  “Nope.”

“You sure?”

“Yep.”  I didn’t really have questions, just a whole ton of worry and what-if’s.  Nothing I could talk about without getting into the deeper subject of
me
.

“Green.”

The random word caught me off guard, and I turned to look at him without thinking.  “What?”

“It’s my favorite color.  What’s yours?”

“If I tell you, will you let me lay down again?”

He flashed me a wide grin but didn’t answer.

“I don’t know that I have one,” I said honestly.  It wasn’t anything I’d given thought to.  “I like looking at the sky, though, so maybe blue.”

He moved over on the blanket.  His attention stayed on the water.  I drank some more, and after a few minutes of quiet, I cautiously lay back down.  With the hat blocking the sun and a light breeze to keep me from getting too hot, I gradually relaxed.  My breathing slowed.

Lying in the sun’s restful rays, I floated on the cusp of sleep.

“What kind of music do you like?” Emmitt asked quietly.

“I don’t remember,” I mumbled.

“Why not?”  His soft voice neither lulled nor intruded on my peace.

“Blake hated the noise,” I said on an exhale and drifted away to that leg-twitching place between awake and asleep.

A gentle tug on my hair anchored me to the beach.

“Who’s Blake?”

A good question, and I wished I knew the answer.  The memory of Blake’s contorting face bobbed to the surface in an ocean of memories.  This time his long teeth didn’t draw my attention.  Behind him, the men at the table changed in small ways, too.  Hairier arms, miss-happened ears.  Nothing I noticed that last night but saw easily, now.  Richard’s ashen face, shaking hands, but otherwise calm presence as he sat at the table. 
Run as fast as you can.
He’d known. 
Richard’s dead.  This changes nothing.
  And Blake had killed him.  Why?  He had a plan.  Scent you...bite him...establish a Claim.

Another memory bubbled to the surface.  Emmitt leaning close as he held me still.  His breath tickling my neck on an exhale.  His nose gliding along my hairline, near my temple on an inhale.

*    *    *    *

I sat up abruptly.  Twisting, I saw Nana reclining in the spot Emmitt had occupied when I fell asleep.  Water splashed.  Giggles erupted.  Squinting against the glare of the reflecting sun, I spotted the other four in the water.

Nana glanced up at me.

“How long was I out?”  I asked.

“About an hour.  Almost time for lunch.”

I waited for my stomach to rebel at the thought of food, but it remained steady.  A good sign.  Digging my toes into the hot sand at the edge of the blanket, a sigh escaped.  I rested my chin on my knees and watched their water play.  Emmitt showed the boys how to cascade a wave of water at Jim, using his fisted hands.  As he spun, the muscles on his back rippled.

“Can I ask you a question?” I asked quietly, recalling the way Emmitt had held me when he’d begged me to stay.  Nana set her book down, an indication of her willingness to answer.  “Do I have a scent?”

“Everyone does, dear.  As unique as a fingerprint.”

I liked that she didn’t ask me what I meant.  I needed to face the truth.  Get the facts.  Start learning.  I watched Emmitt in the water.

“Why would a werewolf want to scent me?”

Emmitt’s head swiveled my direction.  Instead of blocking Jim’s spray, he unflinchingly caught it on his left side.  I bet he had an ear full of water.  He didn’t move as he stayed intensely focused on me.

“I’d be happy to answer that question, but I need to explain more than that for you to understand.  If you’re willing...”

I nodded.  Liam tugged on Emmitt’s arm, encouraging him to get revenge on Jim.  Emmitt turned away to rejoin the fun.

“Emmitt shared with me that he showed you who we are.  People use the term werewolf, but we are more than a shape-shifting creature of the night.”

I briefly gazed down at the sand the first time she used we, having a hard time picturing her with teeth like Blake.

“We are the opposite of a person with multiple personalities.  We are one personality with two bodies.  Who we are doesn’t change, no matter the form we choose.  However, there are benefits to each form we wear.  We are faster on four legs than two, but not by much.  When in our fur, we have better protection because of our teeth and claws.  However, some things don’t change.  Our sense of smell, hearing, and sight.

“Our sense of smell is more vital to us than our sight.  We can smell an object long after it has disappeared.  A scent can tell us more than we could ever see.  Emotions like fear and desire can flavor a person’s usual fragrance.  Through our senses, we read the world and react to it.

“Scenting is when we use our sense of smell to identify potential Mates.  Their scent calls to us.  It’s more than just liking the fragrance.  It’s the rightness of it.”  She paused for a moment and smiled kindly at me.  “I’ve never had to explain this to someone who didn’t have our noses.  So let me know if I’m not making sense.

“I like the smell of strawberries, but I wouldn’t want my clothes to smell like them.  It’s a good smell, but not right for clothes.  So, although my scent may be pleasant to several, it might not be just right for any of them.  Because of the nuance between an alluring scent and the rightness of that scent, nature threw in a backup plan.  It’s something we feel deep inside ourselves, like a tug in our stomach, reeling us toward the one we’re meant to be with.  The scent calls us, possibly from a greater distance than we can see, but the pull cinches the deal.”