The quiet from the third floor drove me crazy. I paced Jim’s apartment until Winifred opened her door and told me to go for a run. It helped, but not much. When I returned, I lay on the couch for hours, just listening. I didn’t crash until near dawn.
Jim woke me with an overly enthusiastic pat on the back.
“Guess what day it is?” he asked with his usual humor.
“Sleep in day,” I said, reaching out to shove him away.
“Bro, it’s swimsuit day. How can you want to sleep in?”
The image of Michelle’s suit popped into my head, waking me instantly. I sat up and rubbed a hand over my face.
“What time is it?”
“A little after eight. I heard the boys moving around up there and figured I’d start pancakes.”
The thought of that sweet aroma I now associated with Michelle’s interest set my pulse racing.
“Yeah. Good. I’ll shower then invite them down.”
I lifted myself off the couch, my lingering exhaustion fading at the thought of seeing Michelle. The shower didn’t take long, and by the time I went to the stairs, I heard her and the boys slowly coming down the steps. Were they worried Winifred was still upset with Jim? If I knew it would reassure them, I’d tell them Jim tended to annoy Winifred often. I didn’t think it would help, though.
When they rounded the corner of the second landing, I saw Michelle. Though the boys were wearing their swim trunks and ready for the day, she was not. Still in her pajamas, she shuffled down each step with care. The stiff way she held her head and her pale cheeks had me worrying. Liam held her hand tightly as if guiding her. Her other hand gripped the railing. Aden impatiently trailed behind the pair. When he saw me, he brightened a little.
As soon as Michelle reached the last step, I moved forward and lightly touched her forehead. Werewolves never caught human colds. But I’d been around enough humans to see the signs of sickness. She looked pale, tired, and in pain. However, she didn’t have a fever.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” I said gently.
“Nothing. Just a headache,” she said, holding the railing and Liam’s hand.
Aden moved around them and hopped off the last step.
“I’m hungry,” he said tentatively, looking up at me.
“I bet,” I said, setting a hand lightly on the top of his head. “You skipped your supper. Would you like some pancakes?”
Aden nodded and reached for my hand. The feel of his little fingers wrapped around two of mine calmed some of my worry. Everything was fine. Michelle was with me, and I’d take care of her. I looked up and gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile as Aden steered us toward Jim’s apartment.
“Would you like some aspirin or something?”
She carefully shook her head and followed us inside. As she and the boys settled onto the stools, I scented her discomfort. She really wasn’t feeling well.
Nudging Jim aside, I started to make cartoon pancakes for the kids, something Uncle Grey had done for us while we’d lived at the Compound.
The final product brought a smile to both boys’ faces but only because it was a sad failure.
“Well, that didn’t work so well,” I said, sliding the plate toward Liam. “Try a bite and let me know if it tastes better than it looks. I’ll start another one for your brother and sister.”
While I started the next pancake, Michelle scooted Aden onto the stool and quietly left the apartment.
Both Liam and I watched her leave. He turned and caught my eye.
“Her head really hurts sometimes.”
“I’ll see if I can help her. Jim, think you can take over?”
“Finally,” Jim said. “Aden, let me show you how to make that pancake the right way. Emmitt didn’t use enough batter.”
Leaving Jim in charge, I followed Michelle out to the porch. She leaned against a column and rubbed her temple. The pain she felt radiated from her. She needed to take something.
Winifred’s phone rang and Michelle flinched. Unable to stand by while she suffered, I moved beside her.
“Liam said your head really hurts. Are you sure I can’t get you something?”
“No, I’m fine.”
She didn’t sound fine. She sounded miserable.
Then the way she held herself changed. She went from stiff misery to swift attention. She turned her head slightly toward Winifred’s window.
Winifred was talking to Sam, another Elder. From the sound of it, Sam was trying to get her to help him with stock investments. I doubted that was the real reason for his call. For as long as I could remember, Sam had always found some excuse to call and speak with Winifred. It was always legitimate pack business, but Sam never spoke to Grey that much. If it weren’t for the fact that they were both Elders and were forbidden from Mating, I would have sworn Sam was sweet on Winifred.
Though their interactions sometimes made me curious, it wasn’t with the same light I now saw in Michelle’s eyes.
I moved down to the step in front of her in an effort to reclaim her attention.
“If not aspirin, maybe Nana has something that could help.”
Michelle shushed me. This time, she turned toward Nana’s window, fully listening.
I inhaled, scenting Michelle’s growing excitement as Winifred rattled off some stock nonsense then said, “Just pick?”
“Pick the first one,” Michelle said rather loudly for someone with a headache. “Ride for a one-point-six increase then drop it.”
She breathed deeply, and I watched in amazement as her color improved. The slight bend in her stance disappeared with that same breath. It was as if I’d just witnessed her headache vanish.
Winifred didn’t miss a beat. As soon as Michelle said her recommendation, Winifred repeated it to Sam.
Michelle caught me studying her and blushed slightly before looking away. It didn’t take a body language expert to interpret that. Whatever had just occurred was a closed subject.
“We were still thinking of going to the lake after breakfast,” I said, as if what just had happened didn’t matter. Because it didn’t. Michelle seemed better, and that was all I cared about at the moment.
“Nana already went for groceries this morning. Will you come to the lake with us?”
She nodded, and I grinned.
“You might want to change.”
She looked down at her pajamas and wrinkled her nose. When she met my gaze again, her blush deepened.
“I’ll just go get ready,” she said.
I watched her dash up the stairs, then went to tell Liam and Aden that their sister was feeling better and had gone to get ready for the lake. Their excitement was palpable, and Jim and I grinned at each other while we ate the remaining pancakes.
As soon as they finished, the boys ran upstairs to help their sister. Without any witnesses, Winifred packed the car in record werewolf time then came in to help me with the dishes. Jim quietly sat at the island, eating the scraps and avoiding work.
“You should take the bike, Emmitt. Might be the only time she touches you,” he said when we were almost done.
“Best behavior, Jim,” Winifred warned.
Jim laughed and went to get his trunks on while I continued drying and putting away dishes and considered what he’d said. Michelle was complex. She didn’t trust us—didn’t trust me—and was running from a man, or several men, who made her very afraid; after what I just witnessed on the porch, she was maybe hiding something else, too. Yeah… complex was an understatement. As her Mate, I needed her to trust that I could protect her. But she didn’t know I was her Mate, and I couldn’t tell her that until she trusted me. Yet, would gaining her trust before exposing my secret possibly risk destroying her new trust in me?
“You’re too deep in thought,” Winifred said. “Go get ready. I’ll finish up here.”
I let her take the cup and towel then leaned against the counter.
“Will telling her chase her away?”
“Who’s to say? Your mom stuck around. Michelle’s only been here two days, Emmitt. And, we got off to a rocky start. Don’t rush this. Trust the pull.”
I nodded slowly, then went to change into my swimsuit.
When Michelle and the boys came down the stairs, we had the car seats in the car, but I was still debating whether to take the bike or the truck. The truck would probably make her more comfortable, but the idea of her on the back of my bike heated my blood.
As soon as Michelle walked out the door, Jim opened his big mouth.
“Emmitt, take the bike. That truck’s too much of a gas hog.”
Michelle glanced at the truck, then the bike, and finally the car. I could see she didn’t understand what Jim was really suggesting.
Winifred threw her two cents in.
“It would be safest if the kids rode in the car. That leaves the front seat open for someone while the other two follow on the motorcycle.”
Michelle’s gaze flew to me, and when her mouth opened in a slight “O,” I knew she understood. I waited while she thought it over.
“Do I need to go change, again?” she finally asked.
I eyed her shorts, t-shirt, and sandals.
“No. You’ll be completely safe.” With me. Always.
She looked doubtful but didn’t say no. After helping the boys into their seats, she came to me. Watching her cross the driveway with purpose in her eyes made my heart skip a beat. God, I wanted this woman. I wanted her in my life, at my side. Forever.