Agent Dune
CHARLIE LEANS BACK, eyes crossing from reviewing hours of meaningless video feed. His phone buzzes and he picks it up.
“Agent Gray.”
“Dune. I sent you a link. The Mexican lab didn’t house any humans. They were doing animal testing there. Wolves.”
Ice pours across the surface of his skin.
Wolves.
A memory, long buried. His grandfather and uncles pulling down their shotguns to hunt a wolf.
Jesus.
What is he thinking now? There isn’t such thing as a wolf-man.
A werewolf.
“I have the name of the funder. Looks like he was a major funder of Data-X as well. Santiago Rodriguez. Formerly of Lobo Mountain, Mexico. Currently resides in Honduras. Also funds an animal testing lab in Barcelona. It’s all in the files I uploaded.”
“Thank you.” His voice sounds gruff because his mind is stuttering and repeating and stuttering again over the wolf thing. “Gray? Were there animals at any of the Data-X labs?” He clears his voice. “Wolves?”
“That information is all redacted.”
Yeah, but you could probably get into it.
They both pause, and he knows she hears his unspoken sentence.
“I’ll see what I figure out.”
“Thanks, Gray. I appreciate it.”
“Don’t thank me yet.”
Denali
I WAKE up to the sound of the door opening and shutting and heavy footfalls. I stretch, my lioness more than content with having a male in the house.
I didn’t really feel right making Nash sleep on the couch, but if he moved straight into my bedroom, Nolan would really think he’s here to stay. And that still remains to be determined.
I get out of bed and jump in the shower. My routine since Nolan’s birth has been to try to get my shower in before he wakes up and needs me. Of course, there’s another adult in the house now if he wakes. Not that Nash would know what to do with Nolan.
Nolan wakes up and comes into the bathroom just as I’m finishing. “Momma?”
“Yes, baby?”
“Nash is still here, and he bought donuts.”
“Did he now?” Well, my kid doesn’t need the sugar rush, but the thought was nice.
“He said I have to ask you before I can have one.”
“You can have one after you drink a cup of milk. Go ask Nash to pour some milk in one of your sippies.” I’m hoping Nash can handle that. I guess I’m testing him a little.
When I come out, I find Nash and Nolan sitting at the kitchen table, each with a donut and a cup of milk. They’re discussing cars. I don’t know whether little boys find locomotion so fascinating because it gets pushed on them, or because there’s some innate male attraction to it, but my kid sure has the itch.
“I like articulating tractors,” he tells Nash.
Nash wipes the milk from his mouth with the back of his hand and glances at me. “He just said articulating.”
“I know. Isn’t it cute?” I know my grin is goofy, but wings flap in my chest at the simple pleasure of having someone to share our son’s adorable brilliance.
“I got you a coffee. Wasn’t sure how you take it.”
“Thank you. I like cream, no sugar.”
Wow. Are we really going to be learning how to make each other’s coffee here?
Things just got real.
I pick up the warm paper cup and take a sip. Nash bought a dozen donuts of all different varieties. I pick out my favorite, a bear claw, and sink my teeth into the sweet doughy treat.
“So, ah, what are you doing today?”
His gaze flicks to Nolan, then back to me. “Working.”
Ah. A fight.
“What time?”
“Two in the afternoon. I’ll drive down to San Diego and make it back here in time to take you to dinner. Okay?”
I chew the bear claw. “Are you asking me out?”
“Can I have another donut?” Nolan interjects.
“No,” I say.
“Drink your milk,” Nash says.
I hide my smile. We sure sound like a married couple.
“Yeah, I’m asking you out. I want to buy you a nice meal somewhere.”
“Both of us?” I ask doubtfully. Nice meals don’t work well with three-year-olds.
“Yeah?” He looks unsure. He doesn’t have a clue what it’s like to entertain a preschooler while waiting for food at a restaurant.
“I’ll see if I can get a sitter.”
“A sitter. Okay, right. Good idea. I’ll be back here by six.” He unfolds his long frame from the kitchen table and even though I need him to leave so I can get Nolan and myself out the door on time, I find myself disappointed.
He hesitates, like he wants to kiss me goodbye, but knows better. Instead he lifts his hand. “See you later.”
“Later, alligator,” Nolan says.
Nash smiles and leaves, his broad shoulders filling the doorframe as he walks through it.
Crazy man.
Sexy, beautiful lion.
Nash
I GET BACK to Temecula in time to hike in the hills behind Denali’s house and pick wildflowers. I’m acting like a fucking teenager going on his first date. And honestly? I feel that out of my depth. I don’t know the first thing about being Denali’s mate or Nolan’s dad. But I definitely want to learn.
Mrs. Davenfield watches me through her window as I hike down the hill with the flowers in hand. I’m pretty sure I see her smile, so I figure I’m safe from the shotgun for tonight, at least.
I knock on the door. Denali answers wearing a slinky red wraparound dress. The kind that dips low in the front and shows off every curve or her delectable body. Yeah. I’m definitely going to have a hard time concentrating through dinner.
I hand her the wildflowers and a smile lights up her beautiful face. I don’t get a hello kiss or anything, but then, we have an audience.