Dom devoured his sandwich, accepting as truth everything Tiana had said about Nick’s new cook and making a mental note to eat at the diner a lot over the next week before Nick helped Lulu buy her own restaurant, or sent her to culinary school, or whatever other noble thing he’d end up doing for the woman.
When Dom was finished and had paid, despite Jane’s insistence that his money was no good there, he wandered back out onto Main Street, pulling in a deep breath as he tried to clear Jane’s scent out of his nostrils. Clouds were rolling overhead, bringing with them a sharp, crisp taste of approaching snow.
The ski resorts in the area were probably ecstatic. It had been a good December for them.
He strolled down the street a ways, nodding to the occasional local he’d met before. The sidewalk trees were strung with little white lights that would brighten the area as soon as the sun set. Snowflake lights were strung over the main road, and most of the shop windows boasted some sort of seasonal decorations.
Tiger shifters didn’t share the religious and secular holidays humans celebrated except as a form of camouflage. Whatever holidays were the most popular and prevalent in the countries they lived in, those were the holidays tiger shifters celebrated. Dom had always liked this time of year, and all the different holidays observed at once in the US, especially the focus on light and color. And food. He loved the focus on food.
He purposefully strolled past the werewolf-owned clothing boutique, just to get a feel for the place. He hadn’t been so sure Nick made the right decision, letting so many wolves into his territory. But the boutique seemed to be doing a good trade, and he knew from Nick that they employed half a dozen Eirene citizens. Dom didn’t really like werewolves and rarely interacted with them—or any other shifter for that matter—but if the shop worked for the people here, he couldn’t argue with Nick’s choice.
And he’d met the new pack beta, a good man named Adam Walsh. The fact that Dom liked Adam almost immediately did bode well for the health of the once gang-like pack. Jane had told him the stories about the way the pack had been tormenting Eirene before Nick arrived—though of course none of the humans in the town knew the pack were werewolves; they assumed they were human thugs. The very slight fear in her tone when she’d relayed the story of the previous alpha threatening an old man with a steel pipe had set Dom’s tiger growling even though it was all in the past. Dom’s tiger just saw the fear in the woman he wanted even if she hid that feeling well. Dom’s tiger wanted to destroy anyone who caused her fear.
Fortunately for everyone involved, he had never had the “pleasure” of meeting the former pack alpha. Dom hadn’t been even a little unhappy to hear he’d been overthrown—a process that meant he had to die. From everything Nick had told him, the new alpha was a much better leader. Which meant Jane was safer now. And that was all that mattered to Dom.
He hovered outside the boutique, half-pretending to study the little display of children’s clothing in the window while he watched the comings and goings inside. Most of the customers seemed at ease, casually shopping, a few taking things off racks and heading to a set of curtain-covered changing rooms at the back.
But as he watched, Dom noted a more heated and tense-looking conversation near the counter. A woman with dark, reddish colored hair, her eyes narrowed, her mouth pursed, glared at a man at least a foot taller than her. He was smiling in a smarmy way as he said something Dom couldn’t hear from outside the shop over the traffic. As the door opened and closed behind a customer, though, Dom caught the tone of the very quiet conversation. The man speaking sounded insistent and threatening.
Dom also caught the smells and was pretty sure the arguing woman and man were both wolves.
He was tempted to go in and investigate, but they’d know instantly who he was from his scent. They had to keep wolf business out of Eirene if they wanted to keep running businesses here—that was the deal Nick had made with their alpha—so they wouldn’t want to say anything in front of Dom that could get back to Nick.
Instincts Dom couldn’t explain hinted at trouble. All the Chernikov brothers had gotten good at spotting trouble over the years. Their “outcast” status among the tigers and the frequent fights of their youth had made them all hyper-sensitive to danger. Dom had always been able to feel a fight coming.
And what he was watching was a fight waiting to happen.
He hovered a moment longer, gathering what details he could when the door opened and closed again, then he moved on so the arguing wolves didn’t take notice of him. He pulled his cellphone out of his coat pocket and texted Nick with his suspicions. They’d talk more when he went back to Nick’s place, but he wanted to give his brother a heads-up. Just in case.
He’d reached the side street that would take him to Jane’s house by the time Nick acknowledged the text. Stuffing his cell back into his pocket, Dom turned down the residential street with its cottage-like houses and almost non-existent front yards, breathing in the strong, pleasant scents of the pine trees that dotted the area and the burning wood from a few fireplaces. Clumps of grubby snow piled at the base of the trees, though a few of the yards still had thicker, cleaner patches of white. The approaching snowstorm would cover this area and add a sparkling freshness to an already charming stroll.
Jane’s house was a ten-minute walk from Main Street, a two-story bungalow that was small but well kept. A full porch fronted the house and was empty now as Jane had taken in the chairs and table she put out for the warmer months. She’d strung colored lights along the thick white wooden posts holding up the porch roof, and wound more lights around the rails alongside the front steps. The base of her house was stonework that needed a good wash, but the rock and shrub yard was tidy, and the house had been painted a soft moss color since the last time he’d visited.
He braced himself for the way Jane’s smell permeated the entire home, then rang the bell, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans and scanning the surroundings as he waited.
Ben answered a few minute later, his dark hair messy, his blue eyes distant and distracted…until he spotted Dom.
“Hey, Dom!” He grabbed Dom’s hand and shook before motioning him in.
Dom hid his grin at the boy’s strength. He’d never been sure if Ben realized how strong he was for his age. And Ben had a tendency to misjudge physical contact. The boy was gentle in spirit but his handshake could pull a grown man off his feet. Dom had always been glad for his own shifter strength around him.
“How’re you doing, kid?” he asked.
“I’m fine. How are you?”
“Good. Good.” Ben glanced over his shoulder toward the living room and Dom frowned. “Did I interrupt something?”
“Working. Got a job. Did Mom tell you?”
“No. What are you doing?”
Ben motioned Dom to the living room—a cozy area with overstuffed furniture, a lot of books and magazine clutter, a large-screen TV across from the couch, and a screened-off fireplace snugged into the corner. On the coffee table in front of the couch was a paperback from Jane’s favorite thriller writer sitting on top of a business management text book, a gaming console, and an empty glass Dom assumed belonged to Ben. Jane had set up a six-foot Christmas tree in the corner opposite the fireplace, near the front window, decorating it in all the colorful lights and ornaments Ben liked best—a detail Dom knew from previous year’s Christmas trees. More swaths of decorative color covered the fireplace mantel, weaving around pictures of Ben and Jane.
The space wrapped around Dom like a blanket full of Jane’s scent. He ignored his tiger’s purr.
Ben sat on the couch and picked up the gaming console, clicked a button and started playing what looked to Dom like a quest-type video game. Though Dom made his living on computers, and liked the occasional puzzle game, he hadn’t gotten into gaming much. He spent most of his time weaving down through layers of code, looking for cracks and vulnerabilities in a system’s security.
He watched Ben maneuver through a world that looked bleak and dirty, trying to figure out the point of the game. Finally, he gave up and sat in a chair on the right side of the couch.
“Video games are your job?” he asked Ben, whose full attention was on the TV screen and the action playing out.
“Beta testing,” Ben answered. “Developers send me their new stuff, and I see how long it takes to beat it.”
“Do you always win?”
“Yes. The longer it takes, the better the game.”
“How long did it take you to beat the best game so far?”
“Five hours.” Ben looked up and grinned. “That was a good game.” Then he focused on the screen again.
Dom laughed. Ben had a real eye for pattern and an ability to focus intensely on one subject—at least on the subjects Ben wanted to focus on—and that manifested in an uncanny ability to sort through puzzles and complex problem-solving games. A game that took five hours for Ben to finish would probably take an ordinary human several weeks of play.
“Good job, then,” Dom said.
“Best.”
“How’s college?”
“Good.”
“Any friends?” Dom asked.
“Yup.”
Dom waited, then rolled his eyes and said, “Anyone in particular?”
Sometimes you had to drag information from Ben, especially when he was doing other things.
“Got a girlfriend.”
That made Dom raise his brows. “Well done. What’s her name?”
“Emma. She’s autistic too but doesn’t like labels.”
“Fair enough. Did you meet her in a class?”
“Nope.”
Dom waited another few moments, then said, “How did you meet her?”
“We’re in the same group. They help us manage on campus.”
“Is she pretty?” Dom asked.
“Yup,” Ben said, and flashed another little grin at Dom before focusing on the screen again.
He watched Ben destroy the game he was testing and move on to a second one, which he’d just started when Dom heard a key in the front door lock. Braced for the sight of her, he was still overwhelmed when Jane walked in.
She hadn’t changed out of her work clothes yet, which meant his fantasy of stripping her out of that polyester shirt roared to life, filling his imagination with thoughts of unbuttoning the shirt slowly, easing it open to reveal her skin inch by inch… Something about the way it pulled tight over her breasts sent his lust into overdrive every time—which was ridiculous because it wasn’t exactly a sexy piece of clothing. But on Jane, it might as well have been lingerie.
The bun holding her dark hair up had loosened a little, with more tendrils of hair escaping to frame her face. Her skin was flushed from the cold, and her lips glistened slightly, as if she’d just licked them. Her scent hit him hard, that earthy essence that made him want to lick her everywhere, to see if her skin was as delicious as she smelled. And it was all he could do to stay where he was, his hands fisted on the chair’s armrests so he wouldn’t reach for her.
He was so caught up in the sight of her, he forgot everything else around him. Just sat there staring at her like a teenager with his first crush.
She strolled into the room, slipped her scarf over her head, and dropped it behind Ben on the couch. She leaned over the back of the couch to kiss her son on the head, then frowned at the game he was playing.
“Which one is this?” she asked.
“Squirrels of Battle,” he muttered.
“Looks stupid.”
Ben snorted. “Is.”
She grinned at his head then faced Dom, glancing around. “Did Ben get you a drink or anything?”
Dom finally stood, wincing at his bad manners—something his grandmother would box his ears for. “I’m good.”
Jane rolled her eyes. “I’ll go put on the kettle. Tea okay? It’s too late in the day for coffee for me. I’ve got an early shift tomorrow.”
“Only if you’re making it. But really, I’m fine.”
She waved off his protest and headed back out to the hallway, to the kitchen at the back of the house.
“When are you going to marry her?” Ben asked when she was gone.
The unexpected question startled Dom, and he turned back from staring at the spot where Jane had been to scowl at the kid. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“You need to get married.” Ben didn’t even glance away from the game. He snarled at something and cursed under his breath.
“Hey, language. Your mom is home,” Dom scolded automatically.
“Sorry. Stupid game.”
“What do you mean by telling me I have to get married?”
“You love my mom. She’s lonely. You should marry her.”
Dom’s mouth hung open. He wouldn’t have been more surprised if Ben told him to stand on his head and turn green. Dom had never even suspected Ben might notice the way he felt about Jane. It was more than a little disconcerting to realize he’d given himself away to a kid who didn’t tend to notice social subtleties.
“Where do you get all this?” Dom asked, sounding gruffer than he meant.
“She likes you. You should kiss her.”
Dom almost choked. “Ben, I think maybe you better leave your mother’s social life alone. She might not like you telling me to kiss her.”
“She wants you to. Why would she mind?”
“I…” Dom didn’t know what to say to that. How the hell did he explain the complex and unspoken understanding between him and Jane to a young man who took everything literally and had to have figures of speech explained to him?
He was saved from figuring it out when Jane appeared with a steaming cup of tea.
She handed the mug to Dom, took one look at his face and frowned at Ben. “Alright, what have you two been talking about?”
“Nothing,” Dom said in a rush. He narrowed his eyes at Ben, who shrugged and put on a new game.
Jane continued to glance between them, suspicion obvious in her expression and her scent.
Dom’s heart pounded hard. He was still standing, too close to her now, and his imagination kept returning to Ben’s words. You should kiss her.
He wanted to, almost more than he wanted to continue living. Every part of him reached toward that image of taking Jane in his arms, lowering his mouth to hers, watching her eyes drift closed as she welcomed him. The first soft touch of her lips against his.
He blinked in surprise when the tea cup in his hands broke apart. “Fuck,” he muttered. “Sorry. Not sure how I did that.”
Ben glanced at him, his brows raised. “Language. My mom’s in the house.” Then he picked up a tablet and started in on yet another game.
Dom opened his mouth, closed it and gave in with a helpless shrug. “Sorry,” he said again to both of them.
Jane pressed her lips together in what looked suspiciously like a suppressed laugh even as she narrowed her eyes at the remains of the cup. “Don’t worry about it. It was an old cup. Probably had a crack in it I didn’t notice. I’ll get some stuff to clean up the mess.”
Dom flinched and glanced down at the wooden floor. Bits of the porcelain not still in his hands floated in a puddle of hot tea.
Jane returned with a small, plastic garbage can, some paper towels, a hand broom and a dust pan. “Did you cut yourself, get burned?” she asked, nodding to the clump of broken cup still in his grip.
“No,” he answered automatically. Truthfully, he hadn’t noticed one way or the other. His fingers could have been shredded and he wouldn’t have known because he was too busy berating himself for letting his imagination get away from him. Again.
He dumped the remains of the cup into the garbage can and motioned for the paper towels. “Let me clean it up. I feel like an ass already for the damage and the mess. I’ll only feel worse if you have to clean.”
She grinned and handed him the towels. “Help yourself.” She was still smiling when her gaze dropped to his hands and the smile was replaced by a scowl. “You did cut yourself.” She grabbed his hand and hauled it close to her face.
The move pulled Dom so close he could feel her heat. The touch of her skin against his robbed him of any remaining sense. He just stood there, staring down at the top of her head as she studied his palm, every muscle in his body on alert and ready to take what his tiger wanted so badly.
She brushed her thumb over his wrist, and he sucked in a breath. Tremors of need flooded him and his skin tingled in their wake.
It took him much too long to remember that she would notice his healing speed soon. Those little cuts would be gone in a few more minutes, as if they’d never been…
He pulled his hand away gently but insistently. “It’s nothing. I’m fine. Let me finish cleaning up.”
“I will not have you bleeding on my floor because of some damn fool male pride. Come into the bathroom so I can at least clean those out and bandage them.”
The bandage would hide the fact that the cuts were healed, but going with Jane into a small room while she continued to hold his hand would be very very bad.
And yet he didn’t argue with her as she dragged him out of the living room to the small first-floor bathroom just off the kitchen. He didn’t resist when she held his hands under running water. He couldn’t have moved even if he’d wanted to as she gently dried his skin and studied the no-longer-bleeding cuts.
Her slight, “Huh?” snapped him out of his desire-haze.
He tried, unsuccessfully, to pull his hand back. Jane’s grip was surprisingly strong.
“These looked…worse in the living room.” She glanced up at him, not quite meeting his gaze. “I just washed away blood, but I’m not seeing even a nick now.”
“Must have looked worse than it was. I told you it was nothing.” He swallowed hard, glad she wasn’t a shifter who could smell his lie. He didn’t like lying to her. But she didn’t know about the shifter world, and he didn’t want to endanger her by revealing it. What Jane didn’t know, in this case, would keep her safe.
“I swear there was at least one serious slice, though. There was blood.” She pulled his hand even closer, practically putting her face in his palm.
His pulse kicked up and every muscle in his body went tight in an effort to suppress what he really wanted to do. Her warm breath against his skin was a deliciously erotic torture because he could imagine that feeling all over his body.
Blinking hard, he tried one more time to pull his hand away. “It was just a little paper cut. Those can bleed and close up fast. The blood probably made it look worse.” His voice had gone an octave deeper, and gravelly. Damn. He had to get out of this tight little room and fast.
His conscience and self-preservation instincts urged him to leave. His tiger urged him to step just a little closer.
Then Jane looked up, her direct gaze clashing with his. Ben’s words echoed through Dom’s head again: You should kiss her.
Yes, his tiger growled.
Six years of resistance evaporated like smoke, the pent-up longing rolling over him and taking control. He closed the last bit of space between them, lifted her chin with his finger, and touched his lips to hers. A soft, slow tease…just a taste, he promised himself. Just a little taste.
The scent of her desire rose up around him, spicing the air with musk and freshness, a scent like basil and dill, mixed in with everything that was Jane. Her lips opened on a sigh. And he stopped teasing and got very serious, very fast.
Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulled her tight against him, groaning as her soft curves flattened against his harder body. He tasted her, savored her, a kiss that went deeper than anything he’d experienced before. Years of denial poured out in that kiss, years of want and resistance and desperation. He tightened his fingers in her work shirt and angled his head to take even more. Everything she’d give him, everything she’d denied for so long…
None of the lost time mattered then, because she was returning his kiss, her hands tight in his hair, her body flush to his. Her nearly inaudible moans drove him crazy, ratcheting up his desperation. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was aware of her eighteen-year-old son in the house, that this kiss was all he was likely to get, maybe ever, but that only drove him to savor and take whatever she offered.
He couldn’t have pulled away from her if the world were collapsing around him, so it was Jane who finally eased back. Her dark eyes were wide, her panting breath making her chest rise and fall quickly, her lips redder and just a little swollen. Her tongue flicked out to wet her bottom lip, drawing his gaze. He started to pull her in again, but she put a hand on his chest and pushed him back a step.
“No,” she said. “That shouldn’t have happened.”
“It was going to happen eventually, and you know it.”
“No. And never again. A kiss doesn’t change anything.”
“That kiss did. Don’t pretend it hasn’t, Jane.”
“I said no. I mean no.”
He shook his head. “Stubborn.”
“Arrogant.
“Not arrogant, hopeful. For the first time in years, I’m hopeful.”
“Don’t be.”
“You want me as much as I want you. You can’t deny it now. And I’m tired of ignoring it.”
“You’re my boss’ brother. You’re too young for me. And I’m never letting a man into my life again. This is never happening, Dom. Please let it go.”
“No,” he said, echoing her stubborn refusal.
But his body was humming from their kiss and if he didn’t leave now, he was likely to say something he’d regret, or push her too hard when she wasn’t ready.
“I’ll go. For now,” he said. “But this isn’t done, Jane. Not by a long shot.”
He waved to Ben on the way out the door and stalked out into the cold. Snow was just starting to fall, coating the narrow sidewalk in slippery ice. He was halfway back to Main Street before he remembered he’d never cleaned up his broken tea cup.