Emily nodded, studiously avoiding looking at his bare chest as she pulled handfuls of matted leaves and fern fronds and twigs from around the base of the branch and tossed them onto dry land.
Cade didn't need her help, of course. One hard yank was all it would take for him to pull the branch free. But Emily needed to keep her hands busy, and Cade understood that feeling.
He, too, had used work to dispel the tension inside him, an imbalance he'd felt as long as he could remember. Even as a child, Cade had hungered for something he couldn't name, and its lack provoked him for reasons he couldn't explain.
Hitting things—or people—helped, but the satisfaction never lasted long. He'd learned to push his body to exhaustion, if only to feel both useful and numb at the same time.
Emily didn't have the option of using her fists in the middle of a gravel parking lot to get her frustrations out. Besides, Cade sensed that she wasn't a brawler by nature.
His blood raged at the thought of anyone daring take a swing at her, and he knew he'd kill the son of a bitch without hesitation. In fact, nothing would give him more satisfaction.
In time, Emily would consent to letting him show her a far more pleasurable way to work off all that energy. But for now, manual labor would have to do.
But that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy it. As Emily dug the detritus from the stream bottom, Cade breathed deeply of her bright, intoxicating scent, feeling the heat emanating through the thin fabric plastered to her body and the surge of his cock as she brushed up against him.
He bore it as long as he could, but Cade was no superman. There was only so much stimulation he could take, even with ice water flowing past his cock. After a few minutes, he decided enough was enough, and wrenched the branch free and hurled it deep into the woods. The moment it was gone, the rest of the clog freed itself and floated gently away down the creek.
Emily kept her back to him as she watched it go. When it had disappeared around a bend in the stream, she wiped her brow and turned to face him.
"That didn't take long," she said with a smile. "What else needs to be done?"
Cade raised an eyebrow. "Well, there's a post in the garden that needs replacing." He grimaced at the memory of crushing it last night, just imagining her underneath him.
"And I noticed a few rough spots along the patio." Emily bent to sweep the last of the debris downstream.
"Did you now? Any other defects you wanted to bring up?"
The change in Emily was instant. She straightened, fear stiffening her body. "I meant no offense."
Cade resisted the urge to reassure her with a hand on her shoulder. In time, his touch would become the thing that reassured her more than anything else. But right now, it would only push her further away.
And that was the last thing Cade wanted.
The instinct to take her in his arms, to possess her, to protect her—it was growing stronger with each passing moment. At this rate, it would soon be almost too strong for him to control.
Almost.
"I know that," he told her gently. "You're only looking to help."
Emily blinked several times before dropping her gaze to the ground, biting her bottom lip nervously. He sensed her battling with herself, but her eyes were bright and hopeful when she looked up.
Under the water, Cade's cock swelled even harder.
"Well, in that case, I also noticed that the bottom step has signs of dry rot. I'm not sure how much help I'll be with the post, but I can defiantly pull that step out and replace it. I mean, after I get some dry clothes on."
What a shame, Cade couldn't help thinking—but replacing steps wasn't really the sort of thing Emily could do naked.
Though he could think of a whole host of things she could.
Emily tightened the heavy leather belt around the Cade's shirt—the same flannel she'd discovered hanging from the railing earlier that morning.
No matter how she tugged at the fabric, trying to fashion the shirt into a sort of dress, it was still ridiculously large on her. But at least it was dry and long enough that Emily didn't have to worry about showing her ass when she bent over.
In fact, the only real problem with wearing Cade's shirt was its incredibly distracting scent. Notes of fresh sawdust and amber oil and sun-split pinecones blended with something that was Cade alone.
It had been hard enough to tear herself away from the intoxicating scent this morning when she'd first breathed it, but now Emily was literally draped in it, and there was no escaping the shadow of his presence.
It was warm and reassuring…and that was unfamiliar enough to make her wary.
Sloan's scent had never made Emily feel this way. From his first touch, she'd been repulsed by Sloan's harsh, bitter smell. It pained her to remember how much she had needed his alpha nature during her heats. Her very survival had depended on their mating, but at no time had she ever wanted anything else from him.
It wasn't like that with Cade.
Emily was finding it harder and harder to pretend that she didn't want him. The truth was that she wanted to learn everything about him, to look in every drawer and cupboard for clues, to read the books on his shelves. To really know him.
Which was unhelpful and ridiculous and probably just the result of fatigue and anxiety. Emily shook her head to clear it as she scooped up her sopping wet clothes from the floor. Cade was certainly handsome—she'd give him that. But a gorgeous pair of eyes and a few tight muscles topped off with a savior complex didn't make a man a good idea.
Only, her body didn't seem to agree. Emily froze as something warm, hot, and wet gushed from between her legs and onto the floor. She glanced at the pale lavender lace panties sitting on top of the dripping laundry pile in her arms. They were soaked with the same slick now pooling on the floor.
No. It couldn't be. It wasn't possible.
Sloan had been quick to decide that Emily's body was broken when she didn't respond to his vicious pawing. Frigid, fat bitch, he'd called her, taunting her that she was damaged, deformed, useless. Only during her heats did she produce any noticeable amount of slick. Even then, it hadn't been enough to satisfy his bruised ego.
But this?
This was epic. Slick soaked not just her undies but the crotch of her jeans, spreading down almost to the knees.
Emily felt her face flush. She was going to have to wash these clothes quickly before Cade noticed. She couldn't bear for him to know she reacted this way to merely seeing him without his shirt on. He'd been bold enough last night when her interest in him had been faint, making his desire for her uncomfortably explicit. What the hell would he do when he caught wind of this?
What would he expect from her?
Emily yelped at a knock on the bedroom door. She dug her fingers into the wet clothes, wringing the water and slick from them to puddle on the floor at her feet.
Oh, shit.
"You okay, Emily?" Cade asked from the other side of the door.
Damn it, did he have to sound so sexy when he said her name? Did his voice really have to deepen like that, so it made her insides quiver like a tuning fork? The heat radiating deep in Emily’s belly shifted lower, prompting another rush of slick.
"Yes, I'm fine," she called, trying to keep her voice even despite the fact that her body had picked the worst possible time to decide that it wanted to be a full omega after all. "I'm just finishing getting dressed."