Chapter Twelve

"Want coffee?"

The words had drifted through a dream. Timber squeezed her eyes more tightly closed and stretched. "Hmm?"

Wreck tightened his grip on her waist and repeated, "I got the power turned back on, and I have one of those fancy one-cup coffee makers. Want coffee?"

She eased her eyes open and scanned his room, stretched her legs again under the covers, and made a little sleepy groan with how good it felt.

She was in Wreck's room for the second night in a row.

The flash of memory of him fucking her boneless last night after they got back from the bar flashed across her mind, and she smiled to herself. "I don't like hot coffee."

"I know."

She frowned at the fireplace, with the embers that were almost out. "You do?"

"You had a three-minute monologue about how you like your coffee."

She curled around the pillow she was hugging and cracked up. "Oh yeah, I remember that."

"I'm shocked. You had approximately thirty-seven shots."

"Four," she said through her giggling. "And it's not my fault. Sloane bought the middle two, and you bought the last one."

"Yeah, because you kept saying," he wrenched his voice up to a girly tone, "If you love me, Wreck, you will buy me a panty-dropper shot."

She died laughing. She'd totally done that. She remembered now. "Lucky man," she joked.

"I am," he ground out against her neck, and she melted against him on instinct. "I already got up and started the ice maker, since you like trash iced coffee—"

"Heeey," she drawled out, twisting around to look up into his face. "Iced coffee is delicious. Not everyone likes their drinks the temperature of fire like you."

"Yeah, yeah."

"I can't drink iced coffee black," she explained.

"I know. I went and borrowed some pumpkin spice atrocity cream from Corey. I nearly threw up when I smelled it."

She cracked up from her belly out. "Doesn't smell enough like fire to you?"

"There is probably a million grams of sugar in it."

"Sounds delicious."

He slid his hand over her hip and kissed her neck. "I have to leave for work in a few hours, but I want to show you something."

The giggles faded from her belly as she slid her hand to the back of his head. He was giving her another gift. He wanted time with her before he started his day.

"I would love that."

He looked so handsome in the glow of the dying embers in the fireplace. His eyes were reflecting like an animal's, in this reddish-gold color that made her want to say the L-word to him again.

"When is your first client coming in today?" he asked.

"Noon."

"Okay, good. Bring the blanket and dress warm. You don't need to put on your makeup."

"Why, silly boy?"

"Because I like you just like this."

Disheveled? Bare-faced and natural? Sleepy-looking?

But before she could ask, he kissed her on the cheek and pushed off the bed, assured her he would "Make her iced-pumpkin shit," and then disappeared down the hallway.

She curled in on herself again and made a soft squeal to expel some of the excitement that trilled through her body when he was that close.

Her phone was on the nightstand, and she pulled it to her to check the time. A couple of text threads showed up on the screen.

One was from her sister, Sasha. I am really happy for you, just so you know. You're on the exact right path. Your friends are awesome. So is Wreck. A trio of pictures were attached. One was of her and the ladies of the Fastlanders standing on the stage in that bar singing karaoke, huge grins on their faces.

The next picture was of Sasha and Timber in a selfie, with Sloane and Silver in the background of the bathroom, making silly faces.

The last picture was of Wreck, sitting at a table, ignoring whatever Owen was saying to him. Wreck's attention was on Timber as she looked through the songbook for karaoke night with the girls. He wore the softest smile as he looked at her.

The picture touched her heart. Wreck looked like he was completely in awe of her, and she didn't know if any man had ever looked at a woman that sweetly before.

Thanks, sis . Send. Want to come out with us next weekend? Send.

Timber knew there would be a next weekend, and she also knew Sasha could use nights out with no drama when she had shifts off from the hospital. The family stuff was heavy, and maybe at some point they would talk about what happened, but God, it was so nice just to have fun instead.

After she sent that message, she checked the next one, and her heart sank. It was from Brandon. Oh, she'd blocked him, but he always greeted her the same. Hey gorgeous girl. It was from an unknown number. This was the second time he'd found another phone to text her from.

She took a few seconds before opening the text, because she really didn't know her feelings on it.

Hey gorgeous girl. Last night was crazy, and it definitely made me reevaluate some things. You look good. Real good. I came to talk to you and make sure you're okay, and I saw you through the window of that bar you went to with those shifters. You were singing karaoke with some of them. You were smiling, and I made myself not go inside. I could never give you smiles like that. I hate your new dude. Hate him. You're different with him. Better. Happier. If I could've made you happy like that, maybe I would've been able to stop myself from making the decisions I did. You seem stronger now, and I didn't think I would ever say this, but it's hot. If you ever want to come back to the family, I can make that transition easier for you. And if you ever want to revisit old times, I'm different too. Maybe we would match better now. Miss you.

A flare of anger boiled her blood, and she gave in to the whip-crack urge to respond.

Fingers flying, she typed out, You're different? You know I'm with someone, you saw that yourself, and you're with someone, and you're still texting me this absolute bullshit. Now you want me back? When I'm off the table? I'm assuming the ‘decisions' you are talking about are you cheating on me? Or is it stealing my family? Are you talking about the way you took everyone's side but mine from day one? Are you talking about how you took everyone's side AGAINST me? How much crap did you talk about me behind my back while telling me to my face that you loved me? That smile you saw on my face last night is because I'm happier away from you and YOUR family. I am stronger. It cost me dearly to get here, and I'm not going back. Not ever. Why would I go back to a low-value man who doesn't know a damn thing about loyalty, and will destroy any progress I've made for his own selfish reasons? You are a vacuum, Brandon. You won't drain anything from me ever again.

Wreck has me.

Message me again, and I will send every screenshot to your girlfriend.

That's a promise.

Out of your reach for eternity,

Timber

"You okay?" Wreck asked, and she startled hard.

Timber huffed a breath and hit send, then handed him her phone.

He handed over her iced coffee and frowned at her phone. "I don't need to see that. I trust you. I just didn't like that you looked upset."

"I know I don't have to show you, but I want you to read it. I want you to understand me."

"I do," he said softly.

"I want you to see all of me."

He huffed a sigh and sat on the edge of the bed. He read the two text messages—the one from Brandon, and the response from her.

He chuckled and rubbed the two-day scruff on his jaw. "If I got a text like this from a woman, I would take it to my grave. He'll be thinking about this all day. You're awesome."

"I'm irritated," she muttered.

Wreck gripped the back of her neck and shook her gently, slowly, eyes boring into hers. "You're a therapist. You know how it'll be. You'll have big feelings about it in the first stages of healing, and then it'll be less over time until you don't get triggered at all. The bigger you allow your life to become, the faster the healing."

She snorted, and sucked down a sip of coffee. It was delicious. "Do you want to take some of my clients, Mr. Emotionally-Educated?"

He kissed her on the forehead and stood, made to leave the room.

"Where are you going?"

"To give you some space with your thoughts."

But he had an empty look on his face, like he was covering up something.

"Mmkay, and what are you really doing?"

A slow smile took his lips. "I memorized the phone number, and I'm going to go remind your ex who you belong to now."

She laughed and nodded. "Well, that's about right."

"Do you mind?" he asked.

"Go get him."

"Don't tell me that," he muttered. "I'll burn his whole life to the ground and leave him in ashes."

"Possessive," she said low.

"Protective," he corrected her.

She liked it. As he walked out of the room, she felt this awed sensation creeping through her chest. Brandon couldn't ever bring himself to stick up for her, but Wreck? He was all protective instincts. She couldn't imagine him ever taking anyone's side against her. In fact, she thought he would back her, even if she was wrong, and gently correct her in private later on. To her, that was the epitome of a high-value man. Loyal, protective, steady, knew what he wanted, unselfish.

She knew she could naturally offer him the same, because that's how she loved. It's how she was built.

He had swung her by her house last night after the bar to grab a duffel bag of clothes for another overnight with him, so she had extra clothes here now.

She pulled on some leggings, and a pair of black hiking boots with gray wool socks hugging her legs up to mid-calf. She dressed in a slouchy navy-blue sweater, and pulled a black, wool-lined Carhartt jacket on over top. She quickly fingered through her hair, and then brushed her teeth in the bathroom.

When she came out into the living room, she was again stunned by the blue tarp that covered a big part of the home. She kept forgetting that he'd set his life on fire a couple days ago. So much had happened since then. She felt like herself, but a completely new woman all at once.

Wreck stood in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and facing her, with a faraway look in his eyes. He wore dark gray work pants that hung low on his waist, work boots, and a T-shirt that fit him just right, clinging to his muscular shoulders and tapering down.

His gaze met hers, and his features relaxed instantly. "You're so damn cute. Ready?"

"Sure!" She toted her iced coffee, and he brought two forest-green thermoses. She followed him out the front door and down the stairs. Perhaps he was one of those men who needed a gallon of coffee to get going in the morning. Or maybe his shifter metabolism burned it off faster, and he needed more volume. Either way, she already planned on getting a matching thermos to his in a color she liked next time she was at the store. Secretly, she liked the idea of having matching stuff. And that right there was how she knew she had it bad for this man.

It was still dark out, but there were gray streaks across the horizon that promised dawn was approaching. "I can't see very well," she uttered, scared to wake the shifters camping in the woods near where they walked.

He pulled a small flashlight from his pocket and handed it to her, and she illuminated her way as they hiked along a thin trail that wound between tents. Up and up they hiked, until the campers were far behind them. Her hand was cold from the iced coffee, but the rest of her was warm from the exertion, and also from walking this close to Wreck. He was hot right now, and was casting a ten-foot wave of heat around himself.

She was breathing heavier as the trail got steeper. Just as she was about to ask if they could take a little rest, he said softly, "We're here."

She scurried up the trail to look over at the clearing in the trees that he was staring at.

There was a flat foundation leveled into the side of the mountain, and on it was a picnic table. She could see now, as the sun was close to rising, and could clearly make out the back of a woman. She turned, and then stood to greet them, a genuine smile on her face.

Wreck broke the silence. "Timber, this is my mom."

Her heart jumped into her throat, and she jerked her gaze up to him to make sure he wasn't teasing her. "Your mom?" she whispered.

The one he hadn't seen in years? The one he'd been so scared to hurt on accident? The mother who had been good to him and raised him right, even through his terrifying years? The woman who had survived his father?

It felt like meeting a legend.

She'd never thought she would get to meet her.

Timber stepped high over the tall, dry grass and watched the woman walking fast toward them, her tear-filled eyes on her son. Wreck broke ahead and held out his arms, caught his mom up, and hugged her tight. The wind kicked up all around them, whooshed against the grass, and blasted into the sky.

Timber's eyes were burning. She took the two thermoses from his hands so he could hug her better, and he did. She set the coffees on the flat ground and stepped back, just witnessing the outpouring of such pure love.

God, this feeling. How incredible it must be to know a mother's love like this. To experience this deep embrace after going so long without seeing each other.

His mother cupped his face and studied it, tears streaming down her face. "My boy," she whispered. "There's my boy."

And then she stunned Timber down to her bones by turning to her, and hugging her up just as tight. "Thank you," the woman said thickly.

"For what?" she asked as she looked over her shoulder at Wreck. The look on his face broke her in half in the best way. That beautiful heart of his was in his eyes.

"For bringing him back to me."

Timber didn't understand.

His mom released her, and offered her hand for a shake. She dashed her jacket sleeve over her damp cheek with the other. "It's very nice to meet you. I'm Beth."

Her heart was so full as she slid her hand into Beth's. "I'm Timber."

The emotional smile on his mom's face as she squeezed her hand filled some hole that Timber hadn't known existed. This woman was good down to her bones. She could feel her goodness.

"Your son talks about you all the time," Timber murmured.

"He talks about you all the time too," Beth said softly. There was such joy in her eyes, it dragged a surprised sob from Timber. She hung her head as tears ran down her face. "I don't know why I'm crying," she forced out past her tightening vocal cords. "I'm just really happy you are back together."

"Oh, honey. That's because you love him. That's a big heart." Beth put her arm around Timber's shoulder and led her toward the picnic table. There was a spread of food across it.

When Timber glanced over, Beth slid her arm into the crook of Wreck's arm, and the three of them walked like that to the table.

"I made all of Wreck's favorite foods," Beth said. "When he called me last night and asked me to come meet you, and told me how he wanted the meeting to be, I knew I had to make it special."

"When did you even call her?" Timber asked, her voice hitching on the last word.

"While you were in your house gathering your clothes. I hated how your mom treated you, so I wanted to take away from that sting. I wanted you to meet my mom."

"He told me what has been happening to you," Beth said as she began opening container lids. "That's not how family should be. It is unfair. We don't have to talk about it, and you don't have to share. I'm sure you want to move forward, but it isn't right. Now, not all this is breakfast food, because when Wreck was younger, he didn't eat much breakfast. He was always on the go and would grab something fast, running on his way out of the house, so forgive me if you don't like eating gravy this early, but pot roast was his most-requested meal." Beth uncovered a glass container of pot roast in gravy, with cooked carrots and potatoes in the bowl next to it. Another container held fried okra. There was mac and cheese, and a cheesy broccoli casserole. There were pancakes slathered in butter, and sausage-and-cheese balls over buttery noodles.

"You made all of this since he called you last night?" Timber asked in awe as Beth handed her a plate.

"Yep. I couldn't sleep, anyway. Staying busy kept my excitement under control. I haven't gotten to cook for my boy in years."

"This is her love language," Wreck said. He'd gone still beside Timber, attention shifting between her and his mother.

"I like cooking, too," Timber said as she filled her plate. "I completely understand that."

After they had filled their plates, Beth sat down and chattered easily as the sun rose behind her, painting the sky in gorgeous pinks, yellows, and oranges.

The picnic table had been here for some time, and was weathered and worn. She wondered how many sunrises Wreck had watched here since he'd moved to these mountains.

It was special.

Beth was so easy to talk to, and was great at conversation. She moved easily from one topic to the next, and asked many questions of Timber to get to know her. She was open when Timber asked her questions too, and Timber's nervousness faded away naturally.

They sat there eating and chatting for a couple of hours in the light of the sunrise, and Timber was stunned by how easily Wreck spoke to her.

With others—especially shifters—he was tense, had little patience, and didn't seek connection. But with Timber and with his mother, he was softer.

She loved experiencing this side of him.

Watching him be the monster was hot, and mysterious—equal parts terrifying and intriguing.

Watching him grow protective of her made her appreciate him as a man.

Watching him be a son? Watching the bond with his mother, and how he cared for her? How he served her food, and was gentle with his words, and how much he clearly adored her?

Well, it made her appreciate his soul.

The Fastlander Phoenix was intimidating to others. He was power. He was a loose cannon.

Dangerous. Troubled. Secretive, and mysterious.

But to Timber, and—as she realized this morning—to Beth?

He was just himself.

He was just Josiah.

In this moment, his fire didn't exist.