Tangle of Need (Page 55)

No, the next time she introduced a man to her family, it would be because she knew he loved her with his heart and soul, his devotion unflinching.

Chapter 49

SIENNA’S NERVES WERE shot by the time she shoved into Hawke’s empty office and sprawled in his chair late that afternoon. The scent of him surrounded her, but it wasn’t enough. Scowling because she wanted to sulk with him, she got up, deciding to track him down like he so often did her.

It didn’t take long—because she knew who to ask.

“I saw him, Sinna!” Ben volunteered when she interrogated the kids in the White Zone. “He’s fixing a car.”

“Thanks, Ben.” She kissed his cheek—and the cheeks of all the other pups who’d gathered around—then made her way down to the garage.

Hawke wasn’t, in fact, “fixing a car.” He was discussing a rugged all-wheel-drive vehicle that looked like it had been taken apart piece by piece, with the head mechanic. Staying out of sight, she didn’t interrupt what seemed to be an important conversation, but she knew he was aware of her, his wolf rubbing against the mating bond in a primal hello.

She didn’t know how she knew which part of him she was talking to at any given time. She just did. And she’d learned to stroke the wolf through the bond, did so now. When Hawke finished his conversation and walked across to her, he just tapped her on the cheek and said, “My office,” having clearly sensed her mood.

The instant they entered it, he raised an eyebrow. “Someone’s been sitting in my chair.”

She slumped in it again. “The maternal females hate me.”

Pale, pale blue eyes suspiciously bland, Hawke leaned back against his desk in front of her and looked down to meet her no-doubt temper-foul gaze. “I’m guessing shadowing Ava didn’t work out.”

“Her baby was fussy today, so she arranged for me to shadow Nell instead.” Cocking her fingers, she pretended to shoot herself in the head. “Do you know how many times I was pulled up in front of Nell as a juvenile? Well, she does. Has a memory like a steel trap.”

“I see.”

“Stop laughing,” Sienna muttered, glaring at her mate though he hadn’t made a sound. “This is serious.”

An infuriating chuckle before he used his foot to push the chair away, then pull it back in so she ended up between his legs. “Tell me exactly what happened.”

“I showed up to meet Nell in the nursery, and we spent an hour with the pups. That was nice.” She loved the innocence of the babies, the way the toddlers shrieked in delight, their joy guileless and forthright. “It was when we left that Nell decided to wander down memory lane. Her ‘favorite’”—she hooked her fingers to create air quotes—“one about me is from that time my class was camping in the mountains, and I convinced the girls to steal and hide every single stitch of clothing owned by the boys. She said she was impressed by the precision timing involved in the raid.”

Hawke remembered the incident, and the punishment he’d meted out to all those involved—fighting the urge to congratulate the girls on the sheer audacity of the stunt the entire time. “Nell probably was impressed.” He sure as hell had been.

Responding with that adorable growling sound he loved, Sienna pushed herself back until his chair pressed against the wall, her legs kicked out in front of her. “She then made me sit through a discipline session with two of the younger teens—it was like a bad rerun of my life. Later, she took me to a meeting where the senior maternal dominants all worked around a quilt. I can hardly sew enough to complete emergency repairs in the field!”

Hmm… “Did she invite you back?”

A grumpy nod.

Delight had him hooking his foot under the chair and rolling her back toward him. “Ask me the name of the reigning champ of trouble in the den before you came along?”

Sienna’s continued black mood was apparent in her muttered, “Who?”

“Nell.”

That got her attention. “Nell?”

“Yes. And she held the title for ten years. So”—he leaned down with his hands braced on the arms of her chair—“I’d say it’s definite that she was impressed by that raid.”

“It’s where the maternals get most of their business done. And they don’t invite just anyone.”

“Oh.” Sienna rubbed a hand over her face. “To be honest, the meeting was painless in comparison to the time I spent with Nell—I felt like I was being raked over the coals.”

“How did you respond?”

“I treated her with the respect due to her as one of the most senior people in the den.” Lashes down, back up. “Though I did get a little irritated when she pushed too hard—and I might have pointed out that I’m an adult female now and not particularly interested in rehashing my past exploits. That’s when she took me to the quilting.”

“Good,” he said, claiming a hard kiss before rising to his full height once again. “If you’d let her walk all over you, you’d never have been invited to the meeting.” Slender Nell might appear young and almost fragile, but the leader of the maternals had a spine of titanium, and appreciated the same in others. “The fact you can’t sew is irrelevant—they bloody well give me a needle and thread when I attend.”

Sienna spit out a startled laugh, the stars returning to her eyes. “What do you do?”

“Remind them I’m alpha.” The wolf snarled. “Then I sit and I listen.” Because the maternals were the backbone of the pack, the ones who made them family, gave them heart.

“I made myself useful cutting pieces for the quilt,” Sienna said, “but mostly I listened, too.” A long, shuddering release of breath. “So … it wasn’t a disaster?” Hesitant, quiet, a request for reassurance.

It fucking killed him each time she exposed the depth of her trust in him, this woman who, as a scared, lonely child, had been taught not to trust anyone. “Not even close,” he said, crooking a finger. “I’d call it an unmitigated success.”

Rising, Sienna pressed her body to his, her fists tucked against his chest. Cuddling her close, he rubbed his jaw against her temple. “You’re doing beautifully.” He knew she was walking this road not simply for herself, but for him, for SnowDancer, so the pack would know they could have faith in the strength of their alpha couple.

Pride and love vied for space inside him, collided in a powerful punch of emotion. “Come on,” he said, running his hands down her back. “Let’s sneak into our quarters for an early dinner.” He wanted to touch her, pet her, adore her, hold her.

CAUGHT up on work the next day, and with her and Drew’s next climbing tutorial not until later, Adria found herself a sunny seat on a giant boulder in the White Zone just before lunch. She wanted to sit and fiddle with a small computronic engine part the mechanics had discarded as too much trouble to fix. It was, but she liked the challenge. She was almost sure she’d figured out a partial workaround when she caught a scent that was now embedded in her very skin.

Her wolf rose, padding to the surface of her mind, and she dropped the hand holding the part to her thigh to focus on him, this lone wolf who was becoming her own … though he would never be hers. His stride was confident, a man sure of his strength. But he wasn’t unbending, was capable of a tenderness that threatened to make her fall so deep, she’d never recover.

Reaching her, he glanced at the engine piece, angled his head in a silent question.

“It’s a hobby,” she said, sliding the piece and her miniature tool set into a pocket of her buff-colored cargos, feeling oddly shy. As if this were their first date and he’d caught her playing like a child. “A puzzle to solve.”

Placing the brown paper bag in his hand on the boulder, he reached into his own pocket to pull out a small, polished wooden carving of a leopard mid-prowl. “My hobby,” he said, standing the leopard on her palm. “It’s not finished.”

Astonished and charmed, she ran her finger along the back of the incredibly lifelike animal. “When do you do this?” She was fascinated. “I’ve never seen you.”

“Here and there, when I’m thinking.”

“Can I have it?”

A glint of gold in the pale brown, the wolf’s delight. “When it’s done.” Plucking it from her fingers, he slipped it back into his pocket. “Show me what you were doing with the part.”

Retrieving it, she explained, while he stood between her parted knees, one of his hands on her thigh, his hair shining blue-black in the sunlight. It was a subtle intimacy, and it wrapped her in silken chains—she had to concentrate to get the words out, wasn’t sure she breathed until he said, “That looks like fun,” in an intrigued tone. “I want to take one apart with you.”

A laugh bubbled out of her. “Alright.”

Stealing her laugh with a kiss that was pure hot, wet demand, he squeezed her thigh before reaching to get something from the bag he’d brought over. “Here.”

It was a sandwich. “Chicken and avocado,” she murmured, another piece of the hard shell around her heart falling away. “My favorite.”

“And your sugar and cream with a dash of coffee.” Placing the thermal cup and his bottle of water on the boulder, he took out his own sandwich.

The sun warmed her shoulders as he turned to brace his back against the stone, her thighs on either side of his bigger, more muscular frame. When she pressed an impulsive kiss to his nape, he made a low, rumbling sound in his chest, a wolf pleased. All of her—body and soul—trembled in visceral response.

Dangerous, she thought, this was so dangerous. Too many pieces of her in his hands. She had to hold something back, some part of her that would protect her against the nights she woke to find him lying awake, a faraway expression on his face. Because it would happen—no matter the passionate tenderness growing ever deeper between them, she was second best, would always be second best.