Daddy’s Mail Order Mate (Twilight Meadows Wolves #3)

Chapter 14 - Thorn

How am I supposed to get anything done with her around?

Other than her, I suppose. Because that is literally all my body seems inclined for now. It'd been two days since my mistake in the forest but it feels like I am fighting to think of anything else but her.

It has been over a year since I've been intimate with someone. Vanessa had been the last, and after Rowan… Well. Even if I had the spare time and energy to consider the idea, I’m now far too spooked to go idly enjoying myself with anyone. As much as I love my son, I don't want to make this a pattern for the sake of everyone involved.

But maybe I’m just feeling the effects of how long it's been. I've been masturbating every day since to try and take the edge off but the relief is only temporary. My morning shower had included just that but here I am not hours later staring at her like a starving man.

It's impossible not to stare. My laptop screen's been neglected for well over a minute now as I admire her. Thankfully she's busy playing with Rowan and her back is to me, so I have some leeway to get away with it without spooking her. I've been more than aware that we were more than somewhat inappropriate the other day without either of us meaning to be, and the last thing I want to do is make her any more uncomfortable than she already is.

But she is so beautiful. That thought keeps cropping up over and over again, but that's because she persists in being just that. The blouse she has on today offers the most tantalizing peek of her collarbones, and all I want to do is kiss my way along them. And how she smiles at my son makes more than my heart warm. I'd do anything to see her smile more. Every movement of her arms as she jostles toys around and plies Rowan with affection makes me crave to have them wrapped around me again. Her legs are folded with a sort of artless elegance beneath her—it reminds me of the pretty sprawl of a doe's legs as she lays on the forest floor.

Which only reminds me of the forest again.

I break my gaze away back to my screen and try to remember what the hell I'd been working on. The fact that a good portion of my blood is routinely diverted away from my brain these days has put a damper on the clerical work I need to do for the Council.

I discipline myself with one simple truth: I rejected her.

It would be cruel to fall into the sway of these urges after everything I’ve done to her and been forced to leave unresolved. No— chose to leave unresolved. There's so much I’ve never told her and I keep having to come back to that reality in winding circles. I can't consider a future with her despite the urges of my body or my heart, not with the ugly past I left her bleeding out in.

But despite this, I-...

Gwen stands up, and I can look nowhere else.

The way she inclines her head when she turns to look at me makes my heart shudder. Even that alone stands to ruin me. I watch her gently blink and I want to wake up to those eyes.

“Thorn,” she hails me.

“Mm?”

“Hungry?”

I press my tongue to the roof of my mouth and silently swallow.

“Very.”

She nods and walks towards me, and I admire the sway of her graceful hips—it’s not some voluptuous sashay, but a note of delicacy in her otherwise firm posture that entices so many of my worst appetites.

“Want anything in particular?”

My hands on your hips and you crying out my name.

“Hrm. Nothing comes to mind.”

She reaches out to grab my coffee mug from the table and I reflexively catch her wrist. I see her eyes flare wide and hear every delicious whisper of her breath hitching at the touch. I know it's not just her being surprised. Not with the tremble on the exhale, the softness to those wide eyes as they look to me, and certainly not the extra trace of color beneath the cloud of freckles on her cheeks.

We stare at each other, neither saying a word.

I know, deep down, that she wants me. It's there in all her little mannerisms. It's there in the bond. The air sings with it. And god, I want to make her sing. It won’t take much to have her moaning again like she did beneath me days ago. She must be so sensitive…

A mournful cry bubbles up and steals the silence away, and both of us flinch and whirl our attention to the baby sat alone in his little playing spot on the floor. He bashes a toy against his foot and rocks in place, clearly upset over something.

I let go of Gwen's hand and we both bolt over to him. I get there first and sweep him up into my arms.

“Shhshhshh. What's wrong?”

I hurriedly look him over, trying to get a sense from all the possible queues why he's distressed.

“He liked how I was shaking it more, I think.”

I look to Gwen, and then to the little rattler she’s picked up off the floor. She gives it a quick series of shakes along some almost musical rhythm. From the way he does a wobbly perk in my arms and gets a fixated look on his face, I think she’s right.

She bows in closer and repeats the pattern, which wins her a smile and teary giggle.

“There we go,” she croons out in a soft, rich lilt. “There's his smile. We want a happy boy. Do you wanna be a happy boy?”

Rowan laughs, little hands groping out towards her.

It's the sweetest betrayal I've ever suffered.

Gwen looks up at me a bit sheepishly, but I just surrender defeat with a chuckle and offer him out. She gets him nicely nestled against her with one arm and bounces away, the rattle going in her other hand.

“Thank you,” she murmurs almost timidly.

“I should thank you.”

“So let's thank each other and call it even?”

I want to kiss her. And not in that maddened way I've been thinking for the last few days. I want to kiss her tenderly. I want to feel her smile against my mouth more than anything in the world.

“Deal.”

She goes and gets herself sat back down to play with him, and I look reluctantly back to my laptop.

“I'll take a break from work and make dinner instead.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

“We just handled that.”

She huffs in amusement and there's an urge to do whatever it takes to make her laugh. Really laugh. But I've never been a particularly funny person, even with people who have a similar sense of humor to mine. Gwen was the wit between the two of us. It was part of her many charms.

I go back to my laptop and start getting it shut down, and by reflex I check the time and date in the corner.

My stomach lurches with a panicked realization: it's Monday.

Today's the day I call Paige. I try to call her at least once a week, no matter what I need to do to make that happen. And this is the day I've instilled as the day I always call, since I've always thrived on routines.

I hastily whip out my phone and get the call going as I race out to the porch, already expecting an earful when she answers.

“I'm sorry Paige,” I instantly blurt out as soon as the line picks up.

“Hey there! You know, I was worried you might not call after all. Not that you have to call on Monday or anything, but, you know, it's kind of a tradition at this point. Hard for me to not wonder what might be wrong unless I know you're off doing your Council stuff somewhere.”

“I'm sorry.”

She laughs brightly, and the sound does put me at ease a bit.

“You already apologized, dummy. It's fine. I figured maybe you might be busy with Gwen, and who am I to get in the way of that?”

I groan and pinch at my temples, palm splaying across my forehead.

“Huh? Are things not going well?”

“I—... It's fine.”

“Uh-huh. Fine,” she retorts teasingly. “Because it's always fine.”

“It is.”

Paige bursts into laughter and I scowl at nothing.

“I can always hang up.”

“But you won't. You love talking to your lil sis.”

I grumble.

“But if things really are ‘ fine, ’ do you wanna talk about it? Give me the tea!”

“It's fine. Really. ”

“Boo. Okaaay . I guess instead, do you want to hear about Lily? She did the cutest thing today.”

“Always.”

If nothing else, I can always rely on Paige to help me feel less tense. She was a bastion of gentleness and normalcy in a life otherwise defined by vigilance and bloodshed.

By reflex, I check out the nearby window; I have lived a life constantly on edge, prepared for anyone and anything to turn against me.

The evening is quiet and still, and there are no details that prick at either my training or my instincts to make me think there's anything worth investigating.

So with that assurance to feed my paranoia, I go and settle down to listen to Paige brightly ramble on about her happy little family.

That's what it's all for: family. No matter what happens, I can't let myself forget that.