11. Easton

Chapter eleven

Easton

T he key slips into the lock of Emily's front door with the slightest of scratches.

"Hey," says a friendly male voice from my left shoulder. "This weather is something, ain't it?"

I pause and turn to face the man, Emily's across-the-hall neighbor, as he's heading into his own apartment. He's shaking his umbrella off in the entryway, just inside the awning.

"Supposed to rain all week," I tell him. "I need things to dry out a bit. It's making it hard to get anything done at work."

He nods. "Boy, you're telling me. Y'all have a good night."

I nod back. "You too."

Becoming part of the landscape so I can make these nightly visits has been almost too easy. I just let myself be seen–a plainly dressed, white-collar human man coming home every night at the same time doesn't cause a blip on anyone's radar.

As soon as I step inside, I allow myself to relax into my usual partial shift so I can take everything in. The only sound in the mostly dark apartment is the TV. Some evening drama is on and, as usual, my mate is already asleep. I stop in the entryway and take a deep breath. It's like breathing after holding my breath for hours on end. Her scent fills my blood and all at once, I'm immediately relaxed.

From where I stand, I can see her cat look up. He hops down gracefully from his perch at her side and comes to rub against my leg as he does every night. I pick him up with one hand, locking the door behind me with the other.

"You're a traitor to your mother," I whisper in his ear, as I scratch behind his ears before filling his food bowl. I set him down and he purrs against my leg for a moment before hurrying off to eat his ill-gotten gains.

I've learned a lot about Emily in the past seven days. She's a mess. She likes to be alone. The baby gives her really bad heartburn, so she sleeps in the recliner. She keeps really good financial records.

It was a relief to find she has no connection to the money, at least on paper. That will definitely make this whole mate thing a lot easier for us both, but I'm no closer to solving the mystery of where the money has gone. Despite her belief that he still lives in town, Neil Grayson has disappeared. Same for the father of her child, though hunting down a Russian man named Ivan is like searching for a needle in a haystack.

He's definitely far less of a problem. He left her carrying his child and according to my sources, hasn't contacted her once. I'm certain he can be bribed to stay away permanently should he resurface.

What's left is the issue of us. Werewolves marry all the time without finding their true mate, but having your true mate in the picture can be an incredible advantage. Healing, general health, mental acuity, and mental stability all improve for wolves who cohabitate with their mates. Strength increases too, which makes finding a mate important for men like me.

Among wolves, it's just expected that a true mate would stay with you until death, no matter how you feel about them. My old man got lucky–when he finally came across his mate, she was a wolf and they actually liked each other. Having a human mate throws a wrench in things I wasn't prepared for.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, interrupting my thoughts, so I move into the living room where I can be closer to Emily. I sit down on her ancient couch and pull out my phone.

Where are you?

Where do you think?

Can you quit fucking around and just ask her out?

You told me I needed to be careful with this one.

Her finances came back clean.

It doesn't mean she isn't hiding the money or Grayson.

What are you going to do when she figures it out?

She won't.

Women always find out.

I ignore the rest of his texts and lay my head back on the couch. Being near Emily when she's awake is torture. Every move, every look, every change in her mood has me wanting to shove her to the ground and rut into her. But for whatever reason, when she's asleep, it turns off, or at the very least seems to mellow out. I can just be in her presence and everything is right with the world. More proof that this isn't a false mating like my ex.

But it doesn't mean we're in the clear just yet.

I can'tjust "ask her out" like my little brother wants. I have to be patient. I have to wait.

Until then, this is all I can allow myself.

Across the room, she shifts in the recliner and begins ordering food in her sleep. I sit stock still until she sighs and falls back into a deeper sleep. Her golden hair falls into her face and I find myself walking across the room just so I can brush it out of her eyes.

My step-mom, Samuel and Daniel's mom, was dad's true mate. They always seemed to be fond of each other, but now that I'm faced with a mate of my own, I wonder if that's always the case. Do all mates grow to care for each other? Will Emily grow to care for me?

I hear Samuel's voice in my head answer the question.

Not if you fuck it up.

I sit in the dark watching her sleep for a long time, thinking until the early hours of the morning when I must go or risk her waking up to me in her home. I go through my normal routine–I cover her up, turn off the TV, and then all the lights. The cat doesn't even look up from its place across her chest as I let myself out the front door.