Blood Wolf Dawning. Rhyannon Byrd
together for us to eat.”
“Thanks.”
“It’s not much,” she murmured, her gaze seeming to linger a bit on his chest before she quickly looked away. “Just some veggie stir-fry and salad.”
“That sounds great, Sayre. Anything I can do to help?” he asked, biting back the words he really wanted to say. Lose your clothes and let me touch and lick and nibble on every mouthwatering inch of you wasn’t the kind of thing he needed to be thinking when it came to this woman, much less saying out loud.
He joined her in the kitchen, the two of them working in silence as she finished the noodles and he pulled down plates and glasses from the glass-fronted cupboards. Though they weren’t speaking, he could see her clever mind working overtime as he watched her from the corner of his eye, the hammering pulse at the base of her throat telling him she was anything but unaffected by his presence.
“Do you want to sit outside?” she asked him, once the stir-fry and salad had been dished onto their plates. “It’s probably cooler out there.”
“It’ll be safer inside,” he replied, carrying his plate and glass of iced tea into the living room.
“Suit yourself,” she said, taking a seat in one of the chairs while he sat on the sofa. “But I don’t have a TV for you to veg out in front of.”
“Not a problem.” He never watched TV much anyway, which seemed to be something they had in common. He preferred to be outdoors, his time indoors usually spent in a bed. Though since he’d left the Alley, he’d gotten damn good at losing himself in a book, during those brief periods of time when he hadn’t been searching for Aedan.
He was nearly halfway through the delicious meal, enjoying simply being in her presence without arguing, when she finally looked over at him and said, “Your accent seems stronger now. Have you been living back in Ireland?”
“I’ve traveled a lot, but I have an apartment in Dublin.”
She swallowed a bite of salad, then sighed. “I bet it’s beautiful.”
“Dublin?”
Sounding more than a little wistful, she said, “Ireland. All of it. I’ve always wanted to go, but...well, traveling isn’t something that really works for me now.”
He took a drink of his tea, then slid his gaze back to hers. “That sucks,” he offered in a low voice, wondering why he was stating the friggin’ obvious. Of course it sucked. She’d basically been living like a recluse up on this goddamn mountain, and on that note, he muttered, “I can’t believe Brody and the others didn’t put anyone on you for protection out here.”
“They tried,” she said flatly, turning her attention back to her plate. “But no matter how sneaky they were about it, I could still pick up on them. When they realized they were only hurting me more, they finally just let me be.”
Since hearing that made him want to destroy something with his bare hands, he forced himself to change the subject and think of something positive to say. It wasn’t easy, considering all he felt like at that moment was kicking his own ass for all the mistakes that he’d made, but he finally came up with a worthy compliment. “You’ve turned this into a beautiful place, Sayre. The, uh, garden is incredible.”
Her mouth twisted with something caught between a wry smile and a grimace. “Thanks. It keeps me busy.”
“Well, you’re obviously amazing at it.”
Shrugging one feminine shoulder, she kept her attention focused on the noodles she was twirling around her fork. “They like my touch, so it’s easy.”
His chin shot up like he’d just been clipped on it. “Your touch?”
“Yep,” she replied, lifting her gaze. “I’ve always had a green thumb when it comes to growing things.”
“Yeah,” he murmured, shaking his head a little. He was not going to get jealous over a bunch of leafy green shit, damn it.
Keep telling yourself that, his wolf laughed. I, for one, would give anything to be a mother-lovin’ daisy if it meant I got to feel her hands on me.
He grunted under his breath, and they finished eating, then carried their plates into the kitchen. He dried while she washed, trying like hell to take shallow breaths, since her scent was seriously screwing with his head. Unable to take it anymore, he set the towel down after drying the last pan and muttered, “It’s getting late, Sayre. You should get some rest.”
Propping her hip against the counter, she gave him a look that said she didn’t like being told what to do. “I’ll go to bed when I’m ready. Right now, Cian, we need to talk. Not chat about mundane crap. We need to actually discuss something important.”
Figuring he knew exactly what she wanted to discuss, he tried to find the words to come clean, but couldn’t. He swallowed, struggling for the right way to explain, but nothing was there. It was like the fucking well had just dried up, his tongue thick in his mouth. Shaking his head with frustration, he somehow managed to rasp, “I know we need to talk, but...I’m not ready to tell you everything. Not yet. I need a little more time.”
A quiet, bitter laugh fell from her lips. “That’s such a jackass attitude, seeing as how I seem to have been thrown into the middle of some bizarre family feud you have going on with some brother none of us ever even knew existed. But that’s not what I was getting at.”
Relief swept through his system as he leaned back against the opposite counter. “What then?”
“It’s the Alley. I’m not exaggerating when I say that it’s hell for me there these days.”
“I’ll be there with you, Sayre.”
“You’ll be there with me, huh?” She laughed again, shooting him a baffled look of amazement. “Is that meant to make me feel better?”
He flushed, grinding his molars together so hard he was surprised they hadn’t cracked. “I just meant that I’ll do whatever I can to help make it easier for you there. But we don’t have any other choice at this point, because we need the protection.”
“And when you’re gone?” she asked softly, her slender brows slightly raised in challenge.
“Let’s just get through the present. We can worry about the rest later.”
“Seriously? That’s all you’re going to say? You don’t even think I deserve the courtesy of a full explanation?”
“Jesus, Sayre. I don’t want to talk about this right now,” he growled, his heart hammering so hard he wondered if he were on the verge of a friggin’ panic attack. And the more she stood up to him, the harder it was for him to remember why he had to keep his goddamn hands to himself.
Brow knitted with a fresh wave of anger, she said, “Yeah, I picked up on the fact you don’t want to talk. But guess what? I don’t give a damn!”
“You should,” he argued, his voice rising. “Because there’s a good reason for why I want you to just shut the hell up. Every time you open your mouth, I want—” He broke off, cursing at his crumbling self-control as he shoved both hands back through his hair so hard he nearly ripped it out. “Christ, woman. If you knew what I want to do to you, you’d run screaming all the way back to Maryland. So just let it go for tonight!”
* * *
Given the situation, Sayre knew that “letting it go” was probably a damn good idea, but she couldn’t do it. Not when Cian Hennessey was suddenly looking at her as if she were the embodiment of every primal sexual fantasy that he’d ever had. “Wait. Are you...are you saying that you want me?”
“I always want you.”
The gritty words were so sharp with emotion she almost felt cut by them, and she slowly shook her head in wonder.