Low voices rose from where I left the guys, and before I was finished lacing up my shoes, Declan rounded the tree.
“Wait, please don’t leave, Teagan,” he said as he adjusted his pants and pulled up his fly. He grabbed his shirt from a low-hanging branch and pulled it over his head. “I mean… will you please not leave?”
“Don’t worry, Declan, it wasn’t an order. You have to tell me to do something explicitly for it to count.” I pulled my jeans over the tongue of my shoes and straightened. “And, you guys convinced me—and my stomach convinced me—to come to your packhouse. That is… if you still want me to.”
The grin that spread over the massive werewolf’s face was so big it threatened to run off his cheeks entirely. He rubbed a hand over his buzzed hair and said, “Fuck yeah, Cherry on Top, we want you to come to our packhouse.”
I laughed. “Wait, what? No, cherry on top is not a thing.”
“You know, it just came out, but it fits.” His brows lifted. “Like the cherry on top of a malt. The best part of a good thing.”
“Cherry on Top. It sounds like dirty—like one-hundred percent dirty, and every single person who hears that will take it that way.” I shook my head, but I was chuckling, and I couldn’t help it. “Please tell me that’s not something that you’re planning on calling me.”
His eyes twinkled with mirth. “How about I just call you Cherry, so only you and I know what it really means?”
“This is a very bad idea.” What the hell was I signing myself up for by going with them to their packhouse? I honestly didn’t know, but damn, the sweet fluttering feeling in my gut felt wonderful.
Lucas rounded the tree and leaned against it. “What’s a bad idea? If it’s one of Declan’s schemes, please just don’t hurt yourself any further.” Lucas looked half asleep. His dark hair was tousled and eyes half-lidded. His button-up shirt had one button off, and the collar was askew. “I feel like a broken record, but if your bandage is off, I should probably check your hand.” He pulled out his penlight again and clicked his tongue. His nostrils flared as his gray eyes came up to meet mine, fully awake now. “Do I want to know how you managed to get so much dirt in your wound in your sleep?”
My gaze slid over to where Jasper was deeper in the forest, pulling on a shirt. He clearly hadn’t told Lucas that the faerie queen had lured me off.
“Special talent,” I said as I looked back into the good vet’s concerned gaze. “I’m sorry that I’m such a pain in the ass patient.”
“Well, since you haven’t tried to bite, burn, or stab me, you’re one of my better patients. I’m just worried about your healing, and I don’t have the supplies to properly flush this out here, so we’re going to have to head back to the clinic.”
“Teagan is planning on coming home with us,” Jasper said as he emerged from behind the tree. He’d pulled on his jacket and motorcycle boots, and his dark hair was swept to the side.
Lucas’ head rocked back. “You are?”
“For right now, yeah. Can I fix your buttons?” I reached toward his shirt, and when he nodded, I undid the top button and put it in the right hole, then I worked my way down.
A flash of memory pushed its way into my mind of me insisting on buttoning up the imposter Kane’s shirt. It was on the night of our rehearsal dinner, and the man who I believed was my future husband had a button out of place. As I fixed his shirt, I remembered thinking that this was love. This was what intimacy with my husband felt like, wanting to fix his buttons and having him smile down at me. It felt like such a naive and pathetic fantasy now.
My memory brought up another image. A button-up shirt with crimson staining down the front. Slashed flesh. A half-eaten corpse.
“Happy Anniversary, Teagan. Now you can finally be free of your hate…”
Acid surged up my throat, and I swallowed it down. I wouldn’t think about that. Not ever.
Lucas’ hand closed over mine. “Teagan, are you okay?”
“Fine.” I pushed the memories down into the darkest parts of my mind and stepped away from Lucas. “Sorry about the shirt. I can be a little anal sometimes.”
“No. I’m grateful.” He grinned, showing that glimpse of his dimple again. “I’m sure I look like a rumpled mess.”
“Not at all,” I lied, and from the smile he gave me, he knew it. “You’ve got an absent-minded professor thing going for you, and I mean that in the best way.”
“We’re not safe here. Let’s go.” Jasper headed through the woods without looking back.
I began to follow when a big muscular arm slung over my shoulders, and Declan leaned in and said, “You don’t even know how excited I am to show you our house—and by our, I mean yours too.”
“Wow. That’s really generous of you to say, Declan,” I said as we trampled over the underbrush. I reached up and patted the big guy’s hand. “Will you tell me about your pack, so I’m prepared? Are there any women in your pack?”
“You’re the only female werewolf in Grayhaven so far,” Declan said with a wince, though it wasn’t surprising. There were fewer female werewolves in the wolf world, and unmated women tended to choose packs with female alphas. Declan was still grimacing when he added, “There are usually women in our packhouse, though.”
“Which is ninety percent because of our last pack member, Chad,” Lucas said from my other side as he picked his way through the underbrush.
My stomach flipped at the name.
“Yeah, Chad. I don’t think you’ve
