Redeemed (14 page)

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Authors: Becca Jameson

BOOK: Redeemed
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The vision that met his gaze made him gasp as soon as he opened the door. He’d expected a package or maybe two, but not four gigantic boxes that bulged under the weight of too much information.

“Evan Harmon?” the man asked. He held out an electronic tablet. “Sign here.” He hardly acknowledged Evan’s nod of confirmation that he was indeed the man to whom the delivery belonged.

Evan signed and the young skinny driver jogged away, leaving Evan to drag the boxes inside himself.

It took a few minutes and it was fucking cold out. Drifts of snow blew inside as he worked.

“Jeez,” Ashley said as she approached him, pulling her sweater around her waist. “You said you needed to do some research. I thought you meant you had a file to read. This will take you until July.” She scanned the boxes.

Even though he had yet to officially claim his sweet mate, he could already feel her emotions. Her words were joking, mocking his lack of foresight concerning the amount of work he had to do, but her shoulders relaxed, her arms hung looser. She was relieved, hoping it meant he wouldn’t leave her.

His chest hurt, an actual pain he felt all the way inside. Not only would he have to leave this woman he loved, but he would undoubtedly spend months chasing her ex around the country until he nailed the bastard to the ground, and all the while he would be forced to lie to her about what he was working on.

Shit. He’d signed an agreement. He’d stated emphatically he would not discuss this case with anyone. And he was certain that included Ashley. Besides, she would freak out if she knew what he was doing when he wasn’t with her. Talk about stress.

Nope. He would have had to keep this project to himself even if he hadn’t agreed to sign a non-disclosure clause with The Council.

“I admit it’s more than I expected.” He set his hands on his hips and took a deep breath before he proceeded to heave the first box over to the dining room table.

“Can I help?”

He grinned over his shoulder, the box balancing precariously in his arms. “You wouldn’t be able to push one of these an inch, my love.” He set the box down. He didn’t want her near them anyway. He hoped he could set up shop at the table, be able to work in the dining room, keep an eye on her in the living room and kitchen and still avoid her eyes wandering in the direction of the files.

He plopped the first box in a corner and returned for another. “Sit.” He pointed at the couch on the way by. “You’re obscuring sensitive information,” he teased. Maybe if he made light of his predicament, she wouldn’t grow suspicious.

When he reached her, he physically turned her toward the living room and pointed at the couch. He hated her near the boxes, let alone between himself and the files. Even though he hadn’t seen the contents yet, he considered them dirty. Disgusting. He wanted to vomit thinking about what he would learn inside them.

Ashley lowered herself onto the couch, but she sat straight and tall as she watched him drag each box across the room. He was a fit man, but it was a workout.

Before he opened the first box to get to work, he wandered back over to her side. Her scent had already permeated every crevice of his home. He loved it and cursed it at the same time. He had no idea how he was going to concentrate enough to actually work. “How about I set you up a room you can turn into a studio?” Was that presumptuous?

Hell, if he converted the spare room across from his ridiculous, secret, Damon-hunting hovel into a studio, they could actually see each other more or less across the hall and he could keep his project out of sight.

“I’d like that.” She smiled and set her hand on his cheek.

He leaned into the touch, loving the feel of her skin against his. His worries surrounding this unconventional wooing were dashing from his mind. She might not be ready to rush to the finish line, but she wasn’t unaffected by him either. He was sharp enough to know she needed him as much as he did her.

It was only a matter of time.

“I have to get to work. You good?”

“Yes.” She lifted her book off her lap. It was for pleasure, but she had a few textbooks with her also. She intended to study at some point.

Evan stood and rubbed his hands on his hips. He took a deep breath as though fortifying himself for what lie in those boxes. All that did was fill him with more of her scent. He backed away as he exhaled and only managed to miss falling over the coffee table by an inch.

Klutz
.

•●•

Ashley watched her mate bustle around opening boxes and pulling out files. She peered up at him over the top of the couch. She held a book in her hand, open, but she hadn’t read a single word—not even before FedEx arrived. She wasn’t sure the book was right-side up.

All that mattered in the room, the house, the planet was Evan and the way he moved around unpacking files. He was huge, especially compared to her. Broad and strong. How much time did he spend in the gym? His muscles bulged across his arms and chest as he heaved a box onto the dining room table.

“Did you play football?”

“Huh?” He lifted his gaze and stared at her quizzically, his head cocked to one side. And then a smile spread and he chuckled. “If I had a dollar for every time someone has asked me that.” He resumed scrounging around in the box he’d set higher. “But, nope. God made me this way. I like to work out. Lift weights. Run. But I never played football, much to the dismay of the high school coach, who hounded me every year trying to recruit me for the team.”

“Guess that’s what tall people get about basketball.”

“Yeah, no one ever asked me to play that sport for some reason.” He winked at her and then heaved a stack of papers onto the glossy table top. “I have two left feet. I did nothing but trip over myself in gym class.”

Ashley warmed inside. She loved this. This getting to know him. Watching him.

“How about you?”

“No. I never played football either,” she teased.

“Really?” He lifted an eyebrow. “I’d have pegged you for a linebacker for sure.”

“Yeah, guess the coach thought I was too scrawny. I never played a sport. I never left the art room. If my hands aren’t covered with paint, my shirt isn’t stained, and my hair isn’t dripping with some acrylic substance, it wasn’t a good day.” She sat up straighter, letting her book fall closed in her lap.

“That’s great, having a passion, I mean. Besides you, I’m not sure I know what my passion is yet.” He paused, leaning on the box and staring her in the eye.

And just like that the temperature rose in the room. Heat crawled up Ashley’s neck. She bit her lip and held his penetrating gaze. He wanted her and she couldn’t help but love the feelings it evoked inside. The ball of lust that had formed in her stomach yesterday continued to grow.

Somebody wanted her. Not just anybody, but the sexy hunk of man currently suffocating her with his presence.

Ashley. Broken. Ruined. Fucked up beyond all recognition. And yet, Evan couldn’t see any of that. All he saw was his mate. She read it in his eyes every time he looked at her. He wasn’t putting on an act to be nice. He wasn’t wooing her out of some grand sense of pity. No. He really wanted her. And the idea still boggled her mind.

Evan broke the connection. He shook his head as though he realized he’d been in a trance and turned back to his work, sitting on the nearest chair and opening a file. He tapped a pencil eraser on the table in rapid succession and then bolted up once more. “I have an idea.” He held one finger up as though indicating she should hold on a sec, although she had no idea what she was waiting for.

Evan grabbed a black computer bag from next to the wall, yanked out the laptop and whipped it open on the table like it would self-destruct if he didn’t hurry. He typed furiously for several minutes, pausing now and then to stare at the screen. Whatever the hell he was doing, it made her curious. But he was on a mission and she didn’t interrupt.

Finally, he looked up with a triumphant grin. “There.”

She lifted both brows. “Okaay.”

“Don’t you have some studying to do or something? You’re making me…nervous staring at me.” He nodded toward the computer he’d carried in for her and set next to the couch. “I assume your on-line classes require some sort of on-line work.”

She glanced at her own computer bag and exhaled. “Fine. Okay, but you’re acting peculiarly.” She reached over the edge of the sofa and grabbed the case. No part of her had any desire to actually study, but she also knew if she didn’t she would get behind in her classes.

“All in good time, baby.” He turned back to his work and left her hanging on his words.

•●•

Two hours later, Evan jumped out of his skin when the doorbell rang. He’d finally gotten engrossed in his research and had completely forgotten he was expecting a delivery. Not that he’d lost track of every movement Ashley made. Nope. The woman distracted the hell out of him with her sighs and the tiny noises she made while she tapped away at her computer.

Her eyes were huge round balls of fear when he stood and headed toward the door. “No worries. I ordered a few supplies.” He leaned over the edge of the couch and kissed her forehead on the way by. He found he would take any opportunity to touch her. The sweet torture of contact with her skin was always a conundrum. He ached for the contact, but then ached more from the contact.

He stroked one hand down her face as he stepped away to get the door, intensifying his lust. Making matters worse for his permanently stiff cock.

“Evan Harmon?” the man questioned as Evan opened the door.

“That’s me.” He reached for the electronic pad and scribbled his name for the second time this morning. A variety of boxes littered the front porch once again. This time, he knew well what the contents were. Nothing as ominous as research into the disappearance and drug trafficking of Damon Parkfield. Not this time.

As the man dashed back to his truck, Evan hauled several boxes inside. It took him two trips, but finally he shut the door and dead bolted it behind him.

“How many times a day do you get deliveries?” Ashley asked.

“Never. This is a first.”

“You sure are popular.”

“This time it’s not for me.” He smiled at her. “Come. Help me out.”

She stood cautiously, her gaze roaming around the various boxes. As she stepped around the couch, she gasped. “What is all this?” She had to have recognized the writing on some of the packages.

“Art supplies.”

“I can see that. Why?”

“It’s your passion. You’re bored without them.”

“I was fine. You didn’t have to do this.” She rubbed her hands together in front of her, her body language defying her words. She was itching to rip open the boxes and examine the treasures they held.

“I wanted to.” He heaved the largest oblong package up and headed toward the hall. “Come on. I have the perfect place for you to set up a studio.” Evan nudged the first door on the right open with his foot and stepped inside. He set the easel down against the wall and rushed across the room to gather his belongings from the desk.

“Is this your office?” Ashley asked as she set another box down on his desk.

“It was.” He stacked papers and files and gathered them up in his arms. “It’s your studio now.”

She shook her head, gasping. “You can’t do that.”

“Why not?” He glanced over his shoulder as he headed across the hall. He took a deep breath and turned the knob. This room had been designated as the Hunt-for-Damon office. He was seconds from transforming it into a real office.

“Because it’s crazy. We barely started speaking to each other yesterday. You can’t just … move all your shit around and…” she voiced from her new studio.

Evan dropped his stack on the floor inside the Damon room. He glanced around, ensuring there was nothing particular that stood out and would give away any hint he’d been obsessed with finding Ashley’s asshole ex. Somehow he didn’t think she’d approve. And besides, now that he was working for The Council, he didn’t have a choice. He needed to keep her out of this room and all would be good.

She was standing in the same spot when he returned. He wanted to touch her. Hell, he wanted to flatten her against the wall and engage in a lip lock. But he resisted. She was still fragile, and the best way to ease her stress was to keep the pace slow.

What he knew for sure was he wasn’t alone, and that fact kept him moving. As he leaned under the desk to detach his desktop from the wall, he smiled. He wasn’t close to being alone. Thank God for wolf senses and their hormones. It boosted his confidence scenting her. He both loved and loathed that she was so aroused.

Baby steps, Evan

Hopefully when he got himself set up across the hall, he would be able to see her, but not have to inhale her essence with every breath.
Sure, you can tell yourself that, but you know good and well her scent has filled this entire house now and you are doomed to distraction.

Chapter Fifteen

By mid-afternoon, Ashley had a new studio she hadn’t dreamed of owning in this house twenty-four hours ago. It had taken some rearranging, but Evan had moved all his belongings out of the room and tugged all her art supplies in. They’d worked separately for several hours, each organizing across the hall from one another.

Ashley had the better end of the stick it seemed. Evan had left the mahogany desk for her and a love seat sat against the wall under the window. She’d arranged her schoolwork and computer on the desk and filled the rest of the space with the numerous art supplies. The man had gone a bit overboard when he’d placed the order.

When she’d questioned him he’d simply shrugged. “I didn’t know what you might need,” he’d said.

“You could’ve asked.”

“And ruin the surprise?” He’d winked and moved on.

As she sat at the stool in front of her easel, she watched Evan across the hall. He had placed his desktop computer on a folding table. The rest of the room was filled with two other long folding tables that were covered with a haphazard spread of papers. Whatever he’d been hired to do, the case sure had a lot of baggage.

Midway through the rearrangement they’d stopped for lunch. Evan had made sandwiches and they’d sat at the kitchen table as if they did so every day.

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