Chapter 9

The sound of whistling danced in my head, and I sleepily rubbed my eyes. When I opened them, I was lying on the pink sofa with a quilt over me. I had no memory of getting it out, but as groggy as I was feeling, maybe my memory couldn't be trusted.

Startled, I flew up to a sitting position.

What day is this? What time is it?

When I realized I wasn't late for work and the pieces of what had happened the night before fell into place, I breathed a sigh of relief.

Until a second thing startled me—smoke.

Across the living room, Tak was standing in the kitchen in front of my stove.

Shirtless.

A single braid of dark hair ran down his bare back, and he was whistling like a bird set free from its cage. I drew in a breath, the aroma of bacon eclipsed by the white smoke that filled the room like a thin haze.

"Ow!" he hissed, swinging his arm away.

I padded across the living room, still dressed in yesterday's clothes.

"Ouch!" This time, he added a sharp word. I didn't recognize his language, but I guessed I had just learned my first swear word in it.

"What are you doing?" I asked, rubbing the kink in my neck.

He turned around, holding the spatula as if he intended to spank me with it.

Now there was a silly thought.

"Trying to cook bacon."

"You're going to set off the fire alarm." I noticed the red spots on his chest from the bacon grease popping. "Maybe you should put on an apron. Haven't you ever fried bacon before?" Another plume of smoke billowed from the pan. "Turn down the heat before you start a grease fire!"

Tak rotated the dial until the burner clicked off. He scooped up the black pieces of bacon, a scowl on his face as he searched for the trash can.

I went to the island and sat down to watch the giant wandering around my kitchen in my blue sarong.

"I'm a good cook," he insisted, putting a lid over the pan. "I'm just not used to your stove. Something's wrong with it. Fire doesn't come from the burners."

"They're electric. We don't have gas stoves in this building."

After Tak opened the kitchen window, he sat across from me. I couldn't take my eyes off his massive shoulders as he rested his forearms on the countertop and stared at the door.

"Are you expecting someone?" I asked.

"You don't have any eggs. I was craving eggs."

"We have eggs. I keep them in the bottom drawer since Lakota likes easy access to all his meat. We probably eat more processed food than we should."

He kept looking to my right. "Do you want me to make some?"

"You're the guest. It's not right for you to cook anything for me."

He shrugged. "I'm not an invited guest. You saved my wolf. The least I can do is to cook you a meal."

Why wouldn't he look at me? Having a conversation with his profile was awkward and unnecessary, so I stood up and rounded the island. As I passed by him, I gently touched his shoulder. "You don't have to hide your face for my benefit. I've already seen your tattoo."

"I was just saving your appetite."

"It doesn't bother me. Do you want any leftover pizza?"

"I don't eat that stuff."

I dumped the cold pizza into the trash and set the empty box against the wall. All the excitement from the night before must have done a number on me. Maybe a little food in my belly would alleviate my headache. I found the carton of eggs in the fridge and a package of cheese. "Omelets it is."

"Cheese? That's not how you make an omelet." Tak rose from his seat and pulled veggies from the fridge before he took my cutting board hostage. "Set the fire, and I'll do the rest."

I found it curious that Tak couldn't manage something as simple as an electric stove. But from what Melody had told me, Shikoba's people were self-sustaining and had few modern luxuries. They probably canned food, made jerky, and roasted fresh game over an open fire. Just imagining it made me envious.

I put a clean skillet on the stove and moved the dirty bacon pan into the sink.

Butter sizzled when he dropped it into the hot skillet.

"Cast-iron skillets are better," he remarked. "These never last."

I regarded him as he cut into a green bell pepper. Even barefoot he was so much taller than me. "My sarong looks good on you."

Tak had a way of smiling with his eyes that sent goose bumps across my skin. "You think? Maybe I'll start a fashion trend with the warriors in my tribe."

"Are you sure you don't have brain damage?" I teased.

Tak finished dicing the peppers and pushed them into a pile. "My head still hurts, but I'll live. Did you see what happened?"

"You don't remember?"

With one hand, he cracked two brown eggs into a bowl. "It's fuzzy. I remember shifting, and then after a while, I got sleepy and let my wolf take over. I shouldn't have, but he's cunning enough to stay out of trouble."

I stared vacantly at the backsplash behind the stove. "Wait a minute. I thought you shifted to protect yourself against an attack."

He didn't reply. He just kept beating those eggs.

I turned to look at him. "Are you telling me you shifted before the attack? On purpose? This isn't the country. You can't just let your wolf run out in the open. It's too dangerous. Not just because of the cars, but animal control might capture you."

Tak threw back his head and laughed.

"It's not funny! Every Shifter's worst nightmare is going to the pound."

He set down his knife. "Do you ever laugh?"

"This isn't a laughing matter. What if the cops had arrested you? Who would have bailed you out?"

He flashed a grin, and curse me for thinking him handsome.

Tak jerked his chin toward me. "What's wrong with your neck? You keep rubbing it."

"I slept on it wrong. I just have a crick in it."

When he closed the distance between us, I sucked in a sharp breath.

"Can I do something?"

Wide-eyed, I stared up at him as he reached out and braced his hand where my shoulder and neck met. His thumb pressed deep, and he suddenly gripped the top of my head with his other hand and tilted it. Tak had large hands, and when he began kneading my neck, I had a funny feeling in my stomach. I closed my eyes, and he moved my head again, his other hand sliding down to my shoulder and then working its way back up.

My arousal startled me, and I slapped his hand away. "That'll be enough."

"Better?"

I turned my neck in a slow circle, the pain miraculously gone. "Yes, thank you. Did a healer teach you that trick?"

He studied me for a moment. "Your father must be a serious man. It makes me curious about your mother. Are they opposites or the same?"

Flustered, I grabbed the bowl of chopped vegetables and dumped them into the skillet. Why was he asking about my parents?

Tak suddenly pressed his body against my back and reached around me. I couldn't tell if it was the burner heating me up or his close proximity, but when he grabbed the saltshaker and said, "'Scuse me" in a rough voice against my ear, a flash of heat rippled from my breasts to my lower belly.

I wriggled free. "I need to brush my teeth."

The louder he chuckled, the faster I fled toward the hall. Once I reached the bathroom and slammed the door, I stared at myself in the mirror.

Oh. My. God.

No wonder he kept looking away. It wasn't about hiding his tattoo; it was me. I looked like a troll who'd been living between the seat cushions for the past three hundred years. One piece of my ratted hair had stuck to the side of my face where I must have drooled in my sleep. What little eyeliner I'd applied the day before had smeared around my eyes, and red marks that looked like grid lines covered the right side of my neck where the pillow sham must have wrinkled. I cupped my hand in front of my mouth and assessed my breath.

Just as I thought.

I quickly brushed my teeth and then stepped out of my dirty clothes. For a brief moment, I thought about taking a shower, but there was too much to do. Had Mr. Franklin finished repairing the store window? I'd also fallen behind on chores. Like making sure I'd wiped all the blood off the floor in the living room. Not to mention doing a load of laundry, checking the mail, and changing out my sheets and blankets. After I finished combing the tangles out of my hair, I gazed at myself in the mirror and reached for a bottle.

Tak would be out of my life in less than an hour, so why should I care what I looked like? Yet there I was, slathering my naked body with scented oil.

I swung the door open and gasped when I slammed into over two hundred pounds of pure alpha male. The moment Tak's hands rested on my bare shoulders, I panicked, stumbling backward into the bathroom and slamming the door in his face.

No laughter that time.

I wrapped a towel around my naked body and took a deep, calming breath. "He's just a man," I whispered to myself. "It's not like you're entertaining an important Packmaster."

I opened the door, expecting to see him gone. Tak was staring down at his chest, and fire burned my cheeks when I noticed two oily imprints in the shape of my breasts.

"I-I thought I— Th-the eggs are done," he stammered, still staring at his chest, a spatula in his hand.

"Can I get dressed?"

As soon as he stepped aside, I walked coolly into my bedroom and closed the door. The towel dropped, and I glanced at myself in the mirror.

Boy, was I shiny.

After rubbing the oil in, I grabbed my favorite pair of overalls and a white T-shirt. What I really wanted to do was go back to sleep, but someone had to sweep up the store and make sure there weren't any small particles of glass embedded in the fabric of our merchandise.

I finally emerged from my bedroom, fresh-faced and barefoot. Hopefully I could look him in the eye.

Tak was sitting at the kitchen island, watching me. Much to my relief, he'd wiped away the oil marks on his chest.

He cleared his throat. "I hate to ask, but I need to borrow Lakota's clothes. My truck is at the motel along with my things."

Which meant he'd shifted at his motel. Time for answers. "What was your wolf doing outside my shop at that hour?"

"Sit down and eat," he said, tapping the edge of my plate. "I don't like seeing a woman with an empty stomach."

Tak had plated our breakfast beautifully, and my mouth watered at the sight of the sliced tomatoes.

"This looks delicious."

"Maybe you should take a bite and let me know if it meets your standards."

I arched a brow and sat down. "I'm not going to judge your food."

He sipped his juice. "Shame. It's worth judging."

I cut the egg with the edge of my fork and flashed him a playful smile. "I'll be the judge of that."

"Ah, so she does have a sense of humor after all."

Tak's was the best omelet I'd ever eaten, and I wasn't a huge fan of them. "Not bad."

"Was there a compliment buried in that remark?" Tak chuckled and devoured a large bite. "That's funny."

"What?"

He spoke with his mouth full. "I only see that look on a woman's face when I make her come. If that's the look you make for something that's just okay, I'm tempted to serve you my famous grilled rabbit."

I lowered my eyes. "You shouldn't talk dirty while we're eating."

"I don't mean anything by it. So… Lakota is gone for the entire week?"

I stuffed my cheeks with more of his omelet and didn't answer.

"See, I was thinking about sticking around for a few days," he continued. "I've never been in the city before. Not a big one like Austin. Might as well look around while I'm here."

"Is that the only reason you're staying?"

"No," he said matter-of-factly. "Last night you asked me if I broke your window. Sounds like you've got trouble."

"Just some kids."

"Was it about the same time you found me? My wolf wouldn't have attacked a group of rowdy boys. And I don't think any kid would have the balls to knock an alpha in the head, even on a dare."

I set down my fork. "I thought alphas shared headspace with their wolves? Do you black out like the rest of us?"

"No. But sometimes I get tired and let him take over while I sleep. I trust my wolf. I just wish he'd woken me up when it mattered."

"What time is it?" I peered around Tak, but the microwave clock was showing the remaining seconds of whatever I'd last heated up.

"I guess ten by now."

"Ten?" I exclaimed, jumping to my feet. "It can't be." I cleared the microwave cooking time and stared at the clock display. What if I'd missed the repairman's call? Had Joe locked up the store like he promised? What if they weren't able to replace the pane and all my merchandise was wide open for anyone to steal?

"It's ten fifteen?"

Ignoring me, he continued stuffing his face. "I've never seen a woman sleep in so late. Is that how city wolves live? Instead of waking up when the rooster crows, you wake up at the honk of a horn?" He touched his chin with the prongs of his fork. "I guess if you do all your hunting at the grocery store, there's more time for sleeping in."

"I have to go. You have to go."

"You didn't finish your breakfast."

I slipped on a pair of sandals and grabbed my purse. "Come on!"

"I'm wearing a dress," he pointed out.

"I'll drive you back to your motel. Now let's go."

Tak stood up and swaggered toward me, the blue sarong fitting him more like a napkin around his waist. "In this?"

"If you're too good for it, then leave it behind. But I'm not lending you my brother's clothes. It would be disrespectful to him since you're not even supposed to be here. You wouldn't fit in them anyhow."

He smoothed back his hair and locked his fingers behind his head. "Have it your way, Duckie."

I was about to admonish him for giving me that silly nickname, but when I opened the door, the words dissolved on my tongue.

Folded neatly in the hallway at the threshold to my apartment were the clothes I'd worn on the day I went joyrunning.

The ones someone had stolen from my car.