2. Chapter Two

I need your help.

Those words never boded well for me. Whenever someone needed my help, I ended up either killing someone or nearly dying, usually both. As a werecat, I was powerful, stronger than any werewolf I had ever come across, which meant lots of people wanted me to help with dangerous issues.

‘I need your help' were four words that immediately sank my mood.

"I don't like that," I said, letting go and stepping back. "We've had a lot of peaceful months recently. Please tell me we aren't going to Europe or something. Our trip to Russia was enough excitement to last a decade."

"And that was after a trip to Washington State," he said, chuckling at my panic. "It's nothing like that."

"No one is trying to kill us? No one has found out about this? None of that?" I was honestly surprised.

"None of that," he promised, grabbing my hand as he stepped closer to me again. "Scarier."

"Oh, now I'm really worried," I muttered. "Not helping."

"I think Carey is about to…uh…"

I could smell his embarrassment even better than I could hear it in his words. Something with Carey wasn't scaring him, but it was out of his depth. Considering he was over two hundred and fifty years old, there wasn't much out of his depth. What could a thirteen-year-old girl do that would be something Heath couldn't take care of?

The answer came to me slower than I was okay with, but once I figured it out, I nearly burst out laughing.

"Oh!" I did laugh then. "Really? You need my help with that?" I leaned over, wild giggles distracting me from whatever he was trying to say. When they slowed down, I straightened up and leaned on him. "Heath…"

"Laugh it up. I've never dealt with it before." He was stiff and started walking to my home in the woods. I followed, snorting repeatedly as I tried to stop my laughter.

A werewolf born before the American Revolution was scared of his daughter starting her period.

When we walked up the steps to my front door, I was finally composed. I put my hand on the door to stop him from opening it.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have laughed."

"I knew you would. Not that much, but I knew I would get a snicker at least. I know it's surprising, but I've never had to deal with this before. Sons don't lend themselves to teaching this particular set of skills and information. Added to that, I come from a time when…women didn't share this particular issue with the men in their lives."

"No human women in your pack ever thought to educate you? You've had lovers before. Carey's mother was human." I opened the door and held it for him but let him pour his own drink, seeing how he went for whiskey instead of beer. He poured a second and slid it to me.

"Adult women enjoyed a few nights with me, then went to live their own lives. They weren't committed relationships where we lived together and I was in their business twenty-four-seven," he reminded me. I drank my drink slowly as he threw his entire drink back. "Carey has been acting stranger every month, Jacky. You've seen it. She's telling us less and less about school, and when I asked about it, she told me she wanted to figure out her own problems. Problems. She's about to turn fourteen. She's not supposed to have problems. She's supposed to hang out with kids her age and have friends, hobbies, and all that."

"I know that," I said carefully as he poured a second helping of my whiskey for himself. "She's a teenager, and she's around intelligent, independent people. She has you for a father. Her classmates know what happened in Dallas, and they know who her family is. Of course she's not having a normal existence at school, Heath. That's…expected. That doesn't make it okay, but that's…Unless you change her name and send her to a boarding school, there's really nothing else you can do."

By the look on his face, I could see he was considering it.

"Heath…" I tried to put a warning in that.

He hired the best tutors, and Carey took extra classes. She was well ahead of her grade level. Her projects were literally child's play for her. Even if she didn't do extracurriculars, she would probably get into whatever college she wanted. She certainly didn't need to go to a boarding school to get ahead.

He sighed and put his drink down without swallowing all of it this time.

"Which gets us to tonight's problem," he said, looking down at his glass. "You know, a werewolf can smell these things, right? Very minor differences in a woman's scent throughout their cycle. As an Alpha, I trained myself to watch for them. That way, I could be careful with the human women in my pack." He gave the glass a sheepish smile, as if he was thinking about those times in his pack, definitely a happy memory. "I gave away a lot of chocolate."

"My sense of smell isn't nearly that strong. That was very sweet of you, though."

"I tried." He sighed again. "I caught it in Carey's scent yesterday. I'm not uncomfortable with periods, they're a fact of life, but I'm…I'm not used to being the one responsible for making sure a girl is ready…" He groaned, and I watched the stressed father run a hand through his hair. His grey-blue eyes were particularly stormy at that moment. "I don't know how to talk to her about it, or…" His face flushed a little, just a light pink. I had never, in the two and a half years of knowing this man, seen him blush like this. It was fascinating. "I don't know what to buy for her."

I snorted and had to put my drink down to consider that. A mental image filled my mind and sent me into a fit again—Heath and Landon, each with a deep frown, standing in the feminine products aisle, staring at a literal wall of products. There would be a debate on the merits of each product and the differences between a light or heavy day. It was an utterly horrendous moment I wished I hadn't thought of, but I saw the problem as I laughed hysterically.

Knowing them, they would buy everything, and Carey would drown in all of it, if the embarrassment of the situation didn't get her first.

"I can solve this," I declared, slapping my hand on the island counter in my kitchen. "It's very easy. Do we have a few days before it starts?"

"A week if my memory serves right." He stared at me as if I had grown a second head.

"Tomorrow, we'll go bowling, although it's not bowling weekend, and I'll take Carey after. She can crash here for the night, and we'll talk it out, then I'll take her to the store. I used to have a cycle, so I understand, although it's been over a decade." I tapped my temple. No werewolf or werecat had that sort of cycle. Our fertility was something of a mystery to everyone, but I had grown up human. I knew all about what Carey was going to have coming for her. "See what I did there? You don't need to have the talk anymore. After I drop her off at school on Monday, I'll drop off the stuff at your house. Then you'll know what to replace when the time comes!" I smiled. "Easy as that."

"You make it sound too easy," he said cautiously. "Are you sure I shouldn't…talk to her?"

"What you can do is keep everything supplied and listen to her when she tells you something feels wrong. This doesn't have to be a big event, Heath." I watched the tension leave him as he listened to what I had to say.

"We've…had the talk, obviously," he said, drumming his fingers on my counter. "So, I guess I can leave this one up to a woman to deal with…"

"You are such a control freak," I teased as I walked closer to him. "Heath, I can handle this, and we won't ever talk about your talk with Carey ever again. Do you know how hard it was for me to listen to a thirteen-year-old girl rant about her weird dad giving her the sex talk when I'm sleeping with him? ‘What would my dad know about this, anyway? He hasn't been with anyone since my mom, and I'm thirteen! He's old. Things were different back then.'" My imitation of Carey was, in my opinion, spot on. Heath's full lips curled into a smile—an embarrassed, rueful smile—as his eyes filled with fatherly exasperation.

"Can we laugh about how she thinks thirteen years is a long time?" he whispered with a smile, leaning in to kiss my cheek. "Thank you, by the way, for making this easier for both her and me."

"You two are my most favorite people in the world," I replied, shrugging. "It's not a big deal, and it's not something you needed to worry about. You know I'll give either of you any help I can." I elbowed him playfully. "And thirteen years is a long time. We're not all ancient freaks who have seen the world change. I'm not even forty, so don't try to give me years I didn't earn yet."

"Fine, fine," he conceded. "Now, what was your plan for tonight before I decided to dump my parental duties on your head?"

"Honestly?" I looped my arm in his and started walking, dragging him into my living room. "I was sort of enjoying that conversation because I was really worried you were going to need me to fight someone, and honestly, I'm tired of fighting. Any other normal family stuff? Are you okay with my plan for bowling tomorrow?" I released him to sit on my couch. Putting down my drink, I grabbed my remote and turned on the TV, letting whatever was on play as background noise.

"Well, it's just going to be me, you, and Carey," he said, sitting beside me, his arm making its way over my shoulders as I leaned into him, getting comfortable. "Landon is going fishing."

I blinked a couple of times, then smiled. "I knew it," I said, reaching for my drink.

"Knew what?" Heath chuckled, his chest shaking under my head.

"Dirk is going fishing, too, and he said the friend he was going with knew how to handle things if they got dangerous. You know I don't like when Dirk or Oliver leave my territory." I sipped my drink. "But he never told me who the friend was, and I wasn't willing to ask. Dirk gets cranky when I get nosy."

"They talk all the time."

"I know, so I considered Landon was an option, but I also know Dirk has other friends. I think they're just a cover for him to live a normal sort of life. They don't know he's German or anything, but they're still his friends."

"I'm glad to see Landon making a friend." Heath took the remote and started surfing for something to watch like he always did. "Does it bother you that they're friends? I can put an end to it. It would piss both of them off, but Landon would understand if I approached it from a political angle. It's weird enough that we're hiding you and me. Landon becoming friends with Niko's adopted son adds another layer of complication."

"No, it's better than him running around with humans. I don't have to worry about his safety when he's hanging out with Landon or any secrets slipping," I said. "I just find it amusing he's trying to keep it from me as if I couldn't find out from someone else."

"It's a test," Heath declared, shifting around to get more comfortable under me as he hit play on a movie.

"A test?" I frowned at that. "What do you mean?"

"I raised three kids, and he sees you as an authority figure. He's testing your limits. He's wondering if you're just worried about him, or maybe you're too controlling for him. There's a fine line between worry and paranoia, or anything worse. Werewolves often do it with pretty much everyone. I got it from every member of my pack, every day." Heath ran a hand through my hair. "I find it more amusing that it"s Dirk, who was raised by Niko…"

"And Niko was raised by werewolves," I finished, nodding against him.

"He's quickly becoming the only person my son likes enough to have as a friend. Landon has always been withdrawn, as you might have noticed."

That made me snort in agreement. It took Landon over a year to have a full conversation with me, and I had seen him nearly every week.

"It takes him a long time to decide if he can trust someone. He never got comfortable in the Dallas pack, you know. People would rather talk to me than deal with Landon. He's purposefully made himself intimidating to protect himself, and that never really comes off. But today…he spent the entire day preparing for this fishing trip. And he's warmed to you. It took some time, but I think living outside the werewolf world has done good things for him."

"That's nice," I said softly. I felt petty pride that Landon had warmed up to me, but not his own pack. Last year, he had started talking to me like a normal person. Well, as normal as Landon got. He was still quiet much of the time, but when he wanted to be in a conversation, it wasn't short, simple responses. "I'm glad it's those two. There are worse people for Dirk to be hanging out with. At least with Landon, he can talk honestly about us. And I don't mean this." I waved a finger between us. This wasn't about our secret relationship. This was more. "I mean all supernaturals. Dirk grew up with them, and I can always feel this…undercurrent. He has opinions about our kinds he's not willing to say out loud. Maybe Landon will give him an outlet or a different impression of us."

"I've noticed that in my time with him as well," Heath agreed. "But I never smell anything from him that worries me." He moved an arm and started rubbing my back. "Let's leave it for the night. There's whiskey calling my name and a beautiful woman sprawled all over me."

I could go along with that. We drank our whiskey and watched the movie he picked out. Eventually, the whiskey was gone, and the movie was ignored as I kissed him in the glow of the screen. He growled as I positioned myself to straddle him. It was a sound that I craved.

This was our time—our time to be a normal couple, to talk about everything under the sun and the people around us. It was our time to be everything we wanted to be. No one was watching us. Here, on this night and in this space, we weren't two supernaturals going against centuries of hate and war. We were just two people, and nothing could stop us from doing whatever we wanted.

He wrapped his arms around my waist as I slid mine over his shoulders.

We always took full advantage of this time that was only ours.

An hour later, we made it to the bedroom.