James’s [POV]
She’s back.
And she’s never leaving our goddamned sight again.
That asshole Clyde is in custody, but I wish he wasn’t.
I wish he wasn’t on this fucking planet anymore.
He’s locked away for now, and that will have to be enough for the moment.
But Grey can sense my frustration, and he raises an eyebrow as I help him prepare her bedroom.
“There’s not much you can do about it now. Just control what you can,” he assures me.
Which is why we’re surprising her with a luxurious nest.
Despite our panic and worrying while she was missing, we also put our energy into doing something for her.
That way I wouldn’t be lost in my destructive thoughts.
“Thank you,” I tell him, as I hang a framed picture on the wall. He makes a face, so I elaborate. “You didn’t let me go off the deep end.”
“She had to come back,” he mutters, placing a cashmere robe on a hanger. “She had to. If we thought she wouldn’t…it would have killed Beau.”
And me, I think to myself.
“They’ve been out there all day,” I say, nodding toward her window. “I wonder how much he’s telling her.”
“He’s probably spilling his heart out to her. You know Beau.”
I nod. I know my best friend. Ever since we were kids, he’s been overly sensitive.
Harper’s leaving hurt him. And the second time she disappeared, it was like someone put a bullet in his chest.
I’m happy to let him have his time with her.
But mine and Grey’s patience can only last for so long.
She came in smelling like slick and Beau, and the content look on Beau’s face killed any annoyance I had for him.
He’s at peace.
She showered, and we prepared dinner, which we had in the dining room. Charlotte joined us, and more truths were shared.
Harper finally knows Charlotte was her mentor in the group home and our first hire at the Aurora Inn.
When Harper found out, her smile was so dazzling it took my breath away.
Now as I sit in my room, sketching at my desk, there’s a knock on my door followed by a familiar, sweet scent.
“You know you don’t have to knock,” I say, a smirk forming on my lips.
There’s a huff, then Harper swings open the door. She’s dressed for bed in sleep shorts and a long shirt, and my inner Alpha growls.
Her pupils are dilated and her face is flushed.
Just as we suspected, her Heat is starting soon.
I can’t fuckingwait.
There’s something I want, and this time, I know she won’t run away when I ask for it.
Her hunger matches mine, and she’s kissing me before I can even say hello.
“Good evening to you, too, Princess,” I chuckle, pulling her into my lap. She stays perched on my thigh, and her breathing hitches as I press a kiss to her neck.
“I wanted to thank you,” she breathes. “For setting up my room.”
I chuckle. “You deserve it. No need to thank me.”
He wraps her arms around my neck and nuzzles me, making my heart beat rapidly. “I missed you,” she whispers, her voice breaking.
Ah. The one thing that will make me break.
“Shh, Princess,” I whisper, stroking her back. “I’m here. No more tears.”
She shifts in my lap, and my cock stands hard at attention. Even through the thick denim, she should be able to feel it.
Fuck. I want her.
Her scent spikes with arousal even as she sniffles, and I do my best to remain a gentleman.
But it’s hard.
Literally.
“I’m sorry about the letters,” she whispers, as she pulls away. Her eyes meet mine, hopeful and searching. “I’m so sorry Michael wrote those awful things and made it seem like it was me.”
I growl at the mention of the asshole’s name, and my inner Alpha rages, thirsty for blood.
He hurt her.
He took her away from us.
“It’s okay, baby. I don’t care,” I say, trying to keep my voice as even as possible.
“But I do,” she insists. “He forged my handwriting. He made you believe I didn’t want you anymore.”
I grimace. I don’t want to have this conversation.
I remember Grey’s solemn look as he handed us the envelopes, his eyes haunted.
The words, written in her script, are still burned into my brain.
Never wanted you.
You were my only option at the time.
I settled for you.
Even though I know she didn’t write them, I believed for so long that she did.
It leaves an ache in my chest.
“We put you in a shitty position,” I insist. “We pressured you. And you weren’t ready.”
She frowns and bites her lip. “I’m ready now,” she says quietly. “And I think even back then, I would have said yes. I just needed to clear my head, but I never had that opportunity.”
I can’t stop myself. I kiss her again, this time slow and gentle.
“Fuck the past,” I tell her. “Fuck the letters. Forget everything but us, and how much we love you.”
Oops.
I was trying not to let it slip, but it’s obvious.
I’ve loved her since I first met her, just like Beau has.
But I was trying to wait at least until she had been back for a fuckingday…
Her lips are against mine, and she smiles into the kiss. I bite her lip and she groans, thrusting
against me.
My inner Alpha roars, demanding to lift her shirt and expose that beautiful gland.
Bite her bite her bite her!
I nuzzle the delicate skin and she gasps. Her hand runs through my hair, and she pulls, hard, and I groan in pleasure.
My cock nestles against her ass, and if we don’t stop now, I’ll bite her skin.
But it shouldn’t be like this.
When she’s in Heat, when she’s surrounded in her nest, then I’ll claim her.
Just like my brothers will.
And fuck, the image of her taking all of us…
I shudder.
She kisses me chastely on the cheek, gently pulling away. “Where did you go suddenly?” she asks, amused. She situates herself so my cock isn’t directly over her cunt, relieving some of the tension.
“Oh, you know. Fantasizing.”
She gives me a mischievous grin, and then giggles.
Oh, fuck.
She’s going to be the death of me.
Suddenly, a furry mass jumps onto the desk and Wilson appears, perching next to my sketchbook.
“Mood killer,” I grumble at him, and he yawns, showing off white fangs. Harper reaches over and scratches under his chin, and his purr is loud enough to compete with mine.
“I missed him, too,” she murmurs.
He flicks his tail happily, knocking fur onto the cover of my sketchbook, and I pick it up, flipping through it.
“I have more sketches of him as a kitten,” I murmur. “If you want to see.”
“Of course,” she says. “Your work is incredible.”
A warmth floods me, and I suck in a breath, my hands stilling.
“What?”
“You inspired me,” I admit. This was the part I wish she would remember, as I don’t enjoy reliving those dark moments.
But she must know.
She tilts her head, curious.
“When we met when we were kids…” I trail off, my hand resting on her thigh. “I took my anger out on myself. A lot.”
I will her understand. Her eyes turn glassy, and she nods. I slowly roll up my shirt sleeve, revealing thin white lines.
“Beau knew, and when I finally showed you, you said maybe I could try to do something else to help with my anger.”
Her lower lip trembles. “James”
“It wasn’t because of you, but something clicked. I started drawing. Picked up whatever pencils and notebooks were available and just started doodling. It helped. A lot.”
Her hand clutches mine and our fingers intertwine.
“Anyway, it’s something I’ve shared with you, Grey, and Beau. Eventually, I started taking art more seriously. It’s been my outlet.”
She gives me a small smile. “Thank you for telling me.”
I nod. “Of course, Princess. I’ve taught art classes for kids in the foster system.”
Her eyes widen. “Really?”
“We all used to. You would teach children to garden; Grey would volunteer his time…”
I miss those days. We haven’t done much with those communities since Harper left.
“I would love to do it again,” she breathes. She wraps her arms around me, and I hold her close.
She’s accepting me all over again, and I love her even more for it.
“You have my whole fucking heart,” I whisper to her.
She grins and squeezes my hand. “Show me more of your drawings.”
Wilson stays with us, perched on the desk, as we go through my sketchbooks.
It’s the closest I’ve felt to peace in a long time.