Wolf Next Door (3 page)

“All right, Ty, you need to calm down.”

“Calm?” Tyler’s voice cracked with force and she winced. “She’s been home five minutes, Dylan, and you’re already making a move on her?”

Meeting Tyler’s furious gaze, she flinched. He wasn’t looking at her at all. No, his full intensity focused on Dylan. Her wolf straightened. Excitement warred with irritation. It was her first real look at him. It had been too dark the night before, plus she’d been distracted by the fury rolling off him. His fury and her shock, to be honest, then his headlights had damn near blinded her when they’d cut on. At some point, the boy whose image she clung to for security in the dark of the night, had grown up. He’d changed—his lean frame had filled out. The broad shoulders, dark blonde hair and deep green eyes were the same, though.

Utterly unperturbed, Dylan studied Ty. “She’s free, single, and well over twenty-one, not to mention she’s under my protection at the moment. Go walk off whatever is eating at you, Ty.”

“Fine.” He dropped the basket on the bottom step, pivoted and stalked off without another word. Her heart sank when he didn’t look back.

“Dylan, do you mind if I—?”

“No, darling, I don’t. Not thinking it’s a good idea, since he’s definitely in a mood…”

Tyler was always in a mood. Leaving her coffee cup on the railing, Claire raced after Tyler. The previous night, she’d been stunned by their encounter and hesitated. Her inaction allowed him to make it over the fence and to his car before she could catch up. Pouring on the speed, she closed the distance with him just as he landed on the other side of the wall.

“Tyler?”

He stopped, but he didn’t turn around. The line of his back and shoulders remained absolutely rigid. The familiar wintergreen of his scent beckoned her, but anger darkened the tones, muddying them and causing an almost metallic after bite.

Suddenly uncertain, she shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans and blew out a breath. “It’s good to see you.” Her stomach bottomed out. She wasn’t lying. It was damned good to see him. Good and terrifying, provocative and dangerous. “Are you going to say hello?”

His silence was the only answer she received.

Running her tongue over her teeth, she nodded. “Well, you don’t have to, but I appreciate the basket.” Although she was dead certain his mother sent it, based on his current reaction. “If you would, tell your mother thank you for me?” She retreated a step, then sighed. “I’m going to sell the house.”

The moment she said the words, she hated the idea. Returning to Willow Bend offered her a fresh start, but how fresh could it be if she continued to war with the wolf next door? No, better for them both if she found a new place, maybe on the other side of town. If she couldn’t find a job in town proper, she could head out to the fringes.

Close enough to be home, but far enough away to avoid friction.
Maybe she should have done that from the beginning. The wolf facing his house still didn’t respond nor did he look back at her. The only assurance she had that he’d even heard her was his continued presence.

“I have to meet with Mason.” She chewed her lip. “He said I could come home, but we haven’t finalized anything.”

Nothing.

“I’ll go away now. I’ll ask whomever wants to buy the house to speak to your parents first.” The least she could do, under the circumstances. The Buckleys should have a right to say who moved into her place because of the proximity to their home. Heart thumping, she turned and headed back to the other house. “I’m sorry, Tyler.” She knew damn well he could hear her. Hell, Dylan could probably hear her. As aggravating as Tyler had always been, she’d missed him every moment of every day since she’d left.

She made it all the way to the house before she glanced back.

Tyler was gone.

Dylan waited for her, and she tried to ignore the sympathy in his eyes. “Ready?”

“Yeah.” She bobbed her head once. “I’m ready to be home.”

T
he day
she left replayed like a movie in his head, only packed with deleted scenes. Instead of discovering her absence after she’d gone, he and his brothers came home from their camping trip early. Instead of overhearing his mother discussing the Websters’ heartbreak in slow careful tones to his father, she’d sat on his bed and told him to his face of her plan to move to Arizona. Instead of miles of territory and open road between them, he’d persuaded her to stay.

A thousand things could have happened differently if even one of those deleted scenes occurred in reality. But, no, he’d come home from rough camping with his brothers and walked in to overhear a conversation between his parents. Tipping the beer bottle back, Tyler drained it then tossed it into the recycling receptacle. With a dozen cars worth of work to do, he’d killed most of the six-pack his dad kept in the workshop fridge instead.

Really, liquor was quicker. He’d knock all the dents out of the door. Then he’d head out to Route 23 to pick up a case of vodka and find a cave in the woods. If he could get himself blind drunk—even better, get his wolf blind drunk—then he could turn off everything long enough to figure out what to do.

Four of the twelve cars in the lot waiting for work had severe body damage. A bunch of the youths had decided to see how much they could survive with a
Fast and the Furious
reenactment. One lost a battle to a tree; the others had played bumper cars with each other.

Thankfully, all four younglings involved in the incident survived. Unfortunately for them, Mason took their discipline personally. Not even the memory of their chagrinned and humiliated faces as they walked around town in dunce hats to ask permission to enter and exit stores, pick up items, or purchase items alleviated his bleak mood. If they wanted to act like toddlers, they would be treated as such.

Removing the first of the doors, he pulled out a body hammer and began to bang out the dents. He’d rather use his fists, but if his father checked in today, he’d ask what was wrong. Better to look busy and professional than face his family’s questions. Claire Webster came home. Big deal.

Bang.

Claire Webster apparently excelled at abandoning her packs. First Willow Bend, now Sutter Butte.

Bang.

She’d left with a hunter—Justin Needs His Cock Whacked Off Something or Other.

Bang.

Maybe she repudiated him, too.

Slam.

The metal cracked, and the doorframe collapsed.

Fuck.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he blew out a breath. He needed to get his shit together. Claire Webster was not his problem. Not his
anything
anymore. So what if she came home? So what if she smelled as sweet and provocative as she had the last time he’d seen her?

There was a last time, and then not a damn word for years.

Worse, he’d barely had time to recover from her abandonment before A.J. ended up arrested, tried, and sentenced to decades in prison. Toman, the alpha at the time, ordered him and Linc home. Then he’d informed them, in no uncertain terms, they could not return for A.J.

He bound them to Willow Bend territory proper. Tyler couldn’t go for Claire. He couldn’t for A.J. No, he’d been stuck.

The rest of the metal gave way as he twisted it. The hammer also bore the imprint of his fingertips in the bent handle. Great, he needed to replace the door
and
his tools. Turning, he threw the hammer. It spun through the air and embedded itself in the wall.

“Okay, next time you can have cookies.” A.J. circled the car and leaned against the hood. “I’ll even throw in some milk for free.”

The last thing he needed was his big brother trying to talk him down. The moment the thought took purchase, however, guilt flared. If he’d been in wolf form, he’d have flattened his ears and dropped to the ground. His brother was home, so he’d take whatever the fuck A.J. wanted to dish out.

“Save ‘em. Your mate made them for you.” Tyler didn’t have to force a smile. “You deserve them.”

Arms folded, A.J. studied him with an enigmatic expression. “I know she’s home. You really trying to pretend it’s not bothering you?”

“Nope.” It bothered the hell out of him. “It’s not my business. She made that clear. I’m stubborn, but I’m not stupid.” Coughing, he retrieved the destroyed piece of door. Maybe if he cleaned up the evidence of his temporary lapse in sanity, A.J. would leave it alone. Or at least his father wouldn’t comment... Maybe he could replace the door before his father returned from the auction.

Pivoting, he faced the lot behind the garage. His father collected junk cars, and kept them parked in neat rows based on parts. Those closest to the shop had been cannibalized the most. If they could get it down to the frame, they smelted it and used the remaining metal to build something nice, like a new swing set or maybe some weather vanes.

Focusing on the mundane helped him survive her abandonment and A.J.’s incarceration. It worked once. It would work again. Spotting the car he needed in the third row, he glanced at his brother. A.J. hadn’t moved from his position except to run his hand against chin.

Unease settled on his brother. Tyler narrowed his eyes. Sharing the same face, the same upbringing—occasionally the same soul, as far as he was concerned—Tyler used to be able to read all of A.J.’s moods. He’d been harder to decipher since his incarceration. “Everything all right?”

Blue eyes which mirrored his own gazed back at him. “That would be my question for you.”

“I’m fine,” he lied, and his wolf bristled. It hadn’t even been a good lie. A.J.’s raised eyebrows said he thought pretty much the same thing. “I
will
be fine. I’m pretty good at adapting to disappointment.”

God knew, he’d had a lot of practice.

“Uh huh. Do I need to give you the speech?” So very dry, A.J.’s tone managed what all the alcohol hadn’t. Tyler’s mood buoyed. Having his brother back rocked.

“I’m having a bad day, and you want to give me the speech?” He found the will to smile. “Seriously? What have I done to piss you off? I didn’t even try to find Vivian’s cookies.”

The wry amusement in his brother’s expression didn’t alleviate his concern. “I was there the first time, Ty. I know everything went in the shitter soon afterward, but I was there when she left. I remember what happened.”

Of course he did. It had been Linc and A.J. who’d followed him into the deep woods when he’d taken off. He might have lost Linc, but when A.J. set his mind to something, there was no shaking him. When Ty refused to leave wolf form to talk, A.J. hadn’t given a damn. He’d stayed with him like a sticky burr on his hide.

“She’s back, A.J. It’s not my problem. It’s not my business.” He shrugged. “Yeah, some warning would have been nice, but it’s been years. She hasn’t called, or written, or said a damn thing to indicate she regrets the choices she made and…” He sighed and walked over to the fridge to wrench it open. Finding a couple of bottles tucked into the back, he pulled them out and tossed one to his brother before twisting his own open.

Not enough alcohol in all of Willow Bend to numb the gaping wound where his heart used to be. The scar tissue had thickened over the years, roughened, and almost seemed to fill the hole. Almost.
Kind of like Linc and I are almost A.J.
They could never replace their brother.

“She’s moving into her parents’ place,” A.J. said after a long silence. “She and Mason talked about her plans.”

“I don’t want to know.” His wolf snapped at him for another lie, but Tyler didn’t give a good goddamn. He really didn’t want to want to know. It had been bad enough at her place earlier, when he’d delivered the food for his mother. Claudia Buckley had pressed the basket of baked goods into his hands, and said “Tyler, take this next door so I don’t have to worry about whether or not she’s eating.”

Rooted to the spot, his wolf had scrabbled inside, torn between the excuse to see her and resentment for his mother’s charge. Ranae and Linc were both there. Why not send them? His mother would have said because she asked him, if he’d challenged her request.

Taking the basket, he’d stormed out of the house and stalked over to Claire’s. He didn’t plan to ring the bell or knock, he’d just dump the damn food on the porch and she could trip over it or leave it for the squirrels.

Dylan’s scent hung like a heavy pall over the place, and he’d found the Hunter cradling Claire’s face. Like so many of their kind, Dylan was an aggressive sexual being, so his interest in Claire aggravated the hell out of Tyler. Not that he had any damn say in the matter—not with Claire or any other woman. Claire because she’d repudiated him, and as for other women?

Well, she’d pretty much neutered him of any interest. “I need a woman like Vivian,” he said aloud, because he’d found his equilibrium and a tacit chance at happiness. No way would he allow Claire to screw it up for him again. “She’s beautiful, kind, and
loyal
.” The last quality peaked his interest more than any other. Vivian had barely known A.J., yet she’d remained utterly in his corner. She’d never given up on him, not even when his family seemingly abandoned him.

If not for the russet-haired beauty, he might never have gotten his brother back.

Yes, he needed a mate like Vivian. “Too bad she doesn’t have a sister.”

Without affront or jealousy, A.J. grinned. “I wish it was in me to share, little brother, but it’s not.” Tyler appreciated the kindness and the concession. If it’d been any other wolf making the suggestion, A.J. would have beaten the crap out of him.

Rightfully so.
Fuck.
Tyler would have helped A.J. smack down any other wolf trying to poach on his mate. “I know, and I appreciate that you would if you could, but you can’t, so you won’t.”

“Damn, did you become a poet? How long was I in prison?” The quirk of humor deflated some of Tyler’s tension, and they laughed. It felt good to laugh.

“You didn’t come all this way to talk about
her.
” Better to just not say her name. Maybe he needed to not think it. He had nothing to say to her, nothing kind anyway, and his thoughts boiled.
So, yeah, forgetting her name begins today.

When A.J. said nothing, Tyler sighed.

“Fuck me, you did.” Grabbing a wrench, he stalked out into the junkyard and headed for the car door he needed to harvest. A.J. didn’t follow him, but his brother waited patiently for his return. Swallowing a growl, he said. “I don’t want to talk about her.”

“Okay, then listen.” Without flicking a muscle, A.J.’s strength filled the garage area and, as much as Tyler would have loved to give his brother the finger, he couldn’t. A.J.’s will had led them from infancy onward. Natural as breathing, he assumed the position of the decision maker, but he rarely forced them to obey when they didn’t want to. While he and Linc were usually glad to follow, today he wished his brother hadn’t made it an issue.

“I’m listening,” he said through gritted teeth and concentrated on attaching the new door without destroying it.

“Thank you, little brother. I know you don’t want to.” The command populating the air around him diminished. Bad enough A.J. was strong enough to force the issue, his position as second to the alpha called to Tyler’s wolf as much as his brother did. The combination made him damn near impossible to resist. “Three things you need to know…”

Tighten the bolt, don’t rip it out.
“They are?”

“Claire.” Her name did not belong on his brother’s lips. He had Vivian, he didn’t need to talk about
her
. His brother went quiet, and Tyler swallowed his growl. Only when he stopped the snarl of sound did A.J. continue. “Claire emailed Mason after he came home and won the alpha challenge. She asked him to consider allowing her to return.”

Mason returned to them nearly eighteen months before—hell, almost two years.
Why do I care? She could have emailed eight years ago. Doesn’t change a damn thing.
Shaking his head, he resumed working the bolts. One was in place.

“His initial reaction was caution, as he explained to me this morning. Mason had enough issues getting a grip on Willow Bend and her current population. He didn’t want to allow passage to someone when he didn’t know why she’d left in the first place.”

When A.J. paused again, Tyler scowled. “If you want to tell me, tell me. Don’t sit there and wait to see if I have a comment. I told you, I don’t want to talk about
her.
”

“Fair enough. So, Mason put it on hold. He had a pack to unite. Alexis was pregnant and had to have the baby. Taking care of them consumed him. He didn’t forget about the request; he just didn’t have time to do anything with it. Two weeks ago, we received a call from Cassius.”

Cassius, the alpha of Sutter Butte. Fucker allowed his goddamn Hunter to steal Clai—
her,
dammit,
her!—
away.

The door was on the hinges, and he tested it. It fit snugly to the frame and closed properly. The latch, however, needed some work. After exchanging tools, he grabbed his beer and took a long pull. He’d already burned through the earlier alcohol.

“Cassius ordered her out of his territory. His call was a courtesy to Willow Bend, to let us know she was packless.”

Tyler didn’t move.

“Mason granted her permission to return and, this morning, he told her it was probationary.”

The latch needed delicate handling. He had to get the metal to bend just so.

“She has ninety days to get her affairs in order, square away her parents’ house, and make some decisions. She will also need a sponsor.”

He barked his knuckle as he got the widget in place. Ignoring the torn skin, he glanced at A.J. and took another swig of beer.

His brother’s sober expression didn’t hold a trace of teasing. “Her family’s dead, Ty. The Websters were only children, they had only one child, and her closest relatives are Dylan’s family…and they aren’t blood. She needs more ties to keep her here considering she already cut and ran once. Mason’s a forgiving type, but he said his pack comes first. Claire isn’t pack anymore.”

So, ninety days.
“And if she doesn’t find a sponsor?”
Why the fuck do I care?