I smiled. “That’s such a human thing to say.”
“Would you rather I suggest you dismember their corpse in a wood chipper and feed it to wild boars?”
“How did I find such a romantic?”
He kissed my head. “I’ll never feed you to the hogs.”
Switch swaggered over, flipped Wyatt’s chair around, and straddled it. “Do the lovebirds have plans today?”
“You’re a wanker,” Christian said.
Switch gave him a bored look. “News flash—I don’t give a shit what you think. I’m not here to impress you.”
“Mission accomplished.”
Switch addressed me with a look. “Going to see your old man?”
“I hadn’t planned on it. Why?”
Switch rubbed his chin against his arm and looked at the empty cookie tray. “Just wondering.”
“What’s wrong?”
He shrugged and averted his wolfish eyes, which went against his nature. Switch wasn’t supposed to meddle in my work or personal life, but something was bugging him, and apparently he couldn’t help himself.
“Switch, I’ve got a knife in my boot. If you don’t tell me what’s going on, I’ll add two more ornaments to my Christmas tree.”
His gaze darted to the gathering room and then back to me. “I don’t know for sure. I’m not around the local packs as much as I used to be, but I drove out there yesterday, and something’s off.”
“Off how?”
“My father had a few important people over, including Crush. When I walked in the door, they got real quiet and gave me the look.”
“What look?”
“The look Keystone gives me when I accidentally walk in on deep discussions.”
I folded my arms on the table. “Why would my father be involved in Shifter business?”
Christian snorted. “Why wouldn’t he be? Your da has a gift of inserting himself where he doesn’t belong.”
When Switch sat up straight, his chair creaked. “If there’s anywhere Crush belongs, it’s in the middle of pack business. Well, at least with the packs in that area. They’re family. Anyhow, just thought you might want to pay him a friendly visit.” Switch stood and flipped the chair around. “They don’t tell me much about pack business anymore. Not since…” He rapped his knuckles against the table. “I need to put together some study guides. See ya.”
I watched Switch strut out of the room with a rock star stride that must have beckoned the ladies… up until they learned about his sketchy past. From my understanding about Shifters, the protection that came with belonging to a pack was paramount, but none of that mattered now since he couldn’t settle down and mate until his time at Keystone was up.
What mess has my father tangled himself up in?
I scooted back my chair. “I’m heading out.”
“Have a nice ride.”
That was Christian’s way of not inviting himself. Just as well. Whenever he and my father were in the same room, they were like two sticks of dynamite with a short fuse.
I swung my leg over Christian and straddled him.
“Mmm, I like that,” he said, his voice low and sexy.
I gave him a feather-soft kiss and then nipped his bottom lip. Before his erection reached full capacity, I broke the kiss and nuzzled into the crook of his neck. His pulse ticked against my lips but didn’t tempt me. My thoughts were elsewhere. “I might be home late. Keep the bed warm?”
“You think I want to hang around here with the loons? Perhaps I’ll go out for a pint.”
When I licked his neck, Christian hissed and jumped in his seat as if a snake had bitten him.
“If you keep that up, Precious, I’ll take you right here on this table.”
We both turned our heads when Claude forcefully cleared his throat. He glared at us through one of the archways in the divider wall like a judge about to sentence a criminal.
“Why don’t you shove a fecking cookie up your nose, Chitah?”
It wasn’t as if Hunter was anywhere near us or within earshot, but Claude couldn’t help reacting to emotional scents.
With that, I stood and briefly touched the onyx ring on Christian’s finger. He centered his eyes on my ruby necklace, and it felt as though we were claiming each other with that quiet exchange.
I stretched away. “If you go out, behave yourself, Mr. Poe.”
“Always do, Precious. Always do.”
Chapter 2
When I pulled my truck into my father’s driveway, the trailer porch light switched on. I honked my horn, a sound he was familiar with since this was his old truck. It was either that or risk him charging outside with a shotgun pointed at me.
Crush leaned on the railing while I parked. “You got mud on your truck.”
I slammed the door and rounded the front. “It’s old, like you. It’s gonna get dirty.”
Crush chuckled. “Don’t I know it.”
When I reached the top of the steps, he wrapped me up in a bear hug.
“I missed you, Cookie.”
I squeezed him hard and let go. “It’s barely been a week.”
He folded his arms over the Harley logo on his tattered, oil-stained T-shirt. “You’re not still wound up about that little errand, are you?”
Crush still didn’t think giving me a necklace with a hidden camera on my last mission had been a big deal even though that little stunt could have gotten him killed or blown my cover.
Walking past him, I glared. “The next time Viktor asks you for a little favor, say no.” Once inside the small trailer, I waited by the round kitchen table on my left and stared at an empty TV dinner tray. Nothing left but a few brownie crumbs, chicken bones, and a puddle of grease. “Tell me you’re not back to eating that crap.”
“I’m too damn tired to cook when I get home. Fruit spoils in a day. That shit will last in my freezer for thirty years.” He lifted the plastic tray and dropped it into the trash. “Quit judging my life.”
I pulled out a vinyl chair and sat. “You could at least buy one of those roasted chickens. They have premade dinners at the grocery store. Containers filled with salad, beans, soups—healthy stuff.”
“I had chicken tonight. That’s healthy.”
“You do realize that’s nothing but grease and sugar.”
“Isn’t that what fathers are made of?”
“You’re practically pickled.”
He rummaged around in a drawer. “Don’t give me that sass.”
There was no point in trying to change his bad habits, but I kept hoping that maybe one day he would listen.
I stared at the muted television in the living room and recognized The Honeymooners playing. Crush liked watching old shows—especially comedies. It seemed like just yesterday I was living here. Everything was the same, and yet so much time had passed. Of all the enemies I’d fought over the years, time was the most elusive and cruel. I twirled a large skull ring in the center of the table before cleaning off the motor oil with a paper napkin.
Crush returned to the table with two bottles of orange soda. “Feel free to tell me all about your last assignment. The whole damn city knows about it now. Well, they don’t know about you specifically, but I might have bragged to one or two of my buddies.”