Wolf from the Past: Salvation Pack, Book 4 Page 11

  A low knocking sound turned her attention from the comb. She inhaled, as much to calm her nerves as to see who it was. She slid her feet into a cheap pair of canvas sneakers. “Coming.” She tugged at the hem of her blouse and hoped she looked confident.

  Opening the door, she smiled at her brother’s mate. “Good morning, Anny.”

  Anny smiled back at her. “I heard the shower running and thought I’d let you know that breakfast is ready. Gator made waffles.”

  The mention of his name had her stomach flip-flopping. “Sounds good.” She really had to get a hold of herself.

  Something brushed against her leg, startling her. She jerked back and looked down to find a large black cat staring up at her. He meowed as if to ask her what her problem was. She’d forgotten all about the cats.

  “Seymour,” Anny scolded. “You have to give Sylvie a chance to get used to you.” She bent down and scratched the cat between the ears. It began to purr. Loudly. “Sorry about that. He’s gotten used to being spoiled by everyone here.”

  “No, I’m sorry.” Sylvie regained her composure and smiled. “It’s just hard to get used to the idea that two cats live with all these werewolves.” She bent forward and held out her hand, ridiculously pleased when the cat nudged it before backing away.

  “They were timid at first, but they’ve long since gotten over that. They’ll get used to you in no time.” Anny straightened and put her hand on Sylvie’s arm. “I’m so glad you’re here. You have no idea how much it means to Armand that you’re alive and well and with us.”

  Sylvie swallowed heavily, touched by Anny’s kindness. “Thank you.”

  “I don’t know about you, but I could use some coffee.” Anny led the way and Sylvie followed. The cat ran on ahead of them and jumped on the back of the sofa where his buddy was already stretched out.

  This pack was much different from the one she’d grown up with. Mistrust, solidifying your own position and gaining power was the name of the game back in Louisiana. This group was more like the kind of pack she’d always dreamed of belonging to when she was a child. One where people looked out for each other and shared.

  Oh, it wasn’t perfect. She wasn’t silly enough to believe that. At the end of the day, Jacque was still alpha and his word was law. But this pack was more than she’d ever dreamed of finding.

  Cherise and Armand were already seated at the table. Her brother rose when they entered the room. He walked over to her and brushed his hand over her hair. “Sleep well?” He studied her intently. “You look rested.”

  She nodded, unable to speak past the lump in her throat. Plus, she was afraid if she opened her mouth she’d blurt out exactly how she’d spent a good part of her night.

  “Coffee.” Gator stepped into view. He looked absolutely yummy in a pair of worn jeans and a black muscle shirt that clung to his torso. The clothes were simple, but the man inside them was anything but. The sleeveless top displayed his wide shoulders and the roped muscles in his arms. He held out a mug of steaming coffee and waited for her to take it.

  She reached out and took the mug, sucking in a breath when their fingers grazed. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He turned and strode back to the stove. His feet were bare and the sight made her stomach tighten. She really needed to get a grip if she was getting excited over his feet.

  She took a mouthful of the coffee and swallowed. She needed the caffeine to get her brain firing on all cylinders. “Morning, Cherise,” she greeted Cole’s mate.

  “Morning.” The dark-haired woman motioned her over to the chair next to her. “Take a load off. Gator will have breakfast ready in a minute.”

  She gripped the mug like her life depended on it. “I should help.” She needed to do something to start earning her keep around here. She didn’t expect to be allowed to stay if she didn’t contribute.

  “Non.” Gator brought a platter filled with bacon to the table. “Everyone needs to stay out of my kitchen.”

  Anny batted her eyelashes at him. “Your kitchen?”

  He flashed her a grin. “You may play in it from time to time, but it’s still mine.” He went back to the kitchen for more food. Sylvie tried not to be jealous of the easy banter between the two. Anny was her brother’s mate, and he didn’t seem bothered at all by the byplay.

  “Gator only allows most of us in the kitchen when it’s time for cleanup,” Armand confided.

  “That’s fair.” Sylvie sat in the chair next to Cherise, still gripping her mug.

  Armand laughed. “Don’t give the man any more encouragement.”

  Gator returned to the table with a huge platter of waffles. He set it down right in front of her. “Don’t listen to your brother, chère,” he told her. Then he winked at her. “I’m a humble werewolf.”

  Even she joined in with the others when they laughed. There was nothing humble about Gator.

  Elise LaForge fought the urge to glance over her shoulder. She could do nothing out of the ordinary, nothing that might bring attention her way. She strolled to the clothesline in the yard, lowered her basket to the ground and began to pin clothes. It was early morning and Pierre was off plotting and planning with some of the other men.

  She hated the man who was her mate and was eternally grateful her sons were nothing like him.

  “Morning, Elise.” Corrine Blanchard strolled toward her. “Beautiful day.”

  “A good laundry day.” There were ears everywhere. She knew her husband almost always had someone watching her. It was one of the main reasons she hadn’t left with her sons when they’d gone. There was no way Pierre would let her go. He would have chased after them immediately.

  It was one thing for his sons to sow their wild oats, as he liked to call it, but another thing totally for a female to leave her mate. It just wasn’t done.

  Look how they were ready to go after poor Sylvie. Elise chewed on her bottom lip. Had she done the right thing in encouraging the younger woman to seek out the Salvation Pack? It had been such a shock to discover Sylvie was still alive. She’d been so sure Andre had killed her.

  Elise continued to work. Pierre didn’t like it when she was idle. She almost snorted. She hadn’t had an idle day in the past thirty-five years. Not since the day her father had given her to Pierre as a mate.

  “I bottled some jam yesterday. Do you think your husband would like some?”

  “I will ask him.” Pierre liked to believe the others curried his favor by offering him gifts. In reality, it was a way for Elise to visit some of her female friends without getting in trouble with her mate. If it were his idea, he could not object.

  “Ask me what?” came his booming voice. Elise jolted a little but quickly regained her composure.

  “Corrine was wondering if you might enjoy some of the jam she bottled yesterday?” Elise kept her gaze slightly lowered and her voice pleasant.

  Pierre studied Corrine for so long Elise began to worry. Then he suddenly nodded. “Oui.”

  Corrine didn’t miss a beat. “I will bring some to you.”

  Pierre shook his head. “No, she will come with you and get it.”

  Elise managed not to smile. If there were one man in the pack her mate walked softly around, it was Joseph Blanchard. He mostly kept to himself and Pierre wanted to keep it that way.

  “Go now,” her husband ordered. “I want some of that jam with my dinner.”

  “Of course.” Elise pinned the last piece of clothing on the line and left the basket where it was. She knew better than not to jump when her husband gave her an order.

  The two women were a few feet away when Pierre spoke again. “Where is your mate today, Corrine?”

  The other woman turned and faced her alpha. “He’s off fishing.”

  Pierre nodded and then waved them away, but Elise could feel his eyes watching her as they walked away.


  Chapter Ten

  Damn, Sylvie looked good enough to eat, and she smelled even better—like his soap. He could easily imagine her wet and soapy in his shower. He turned back to the counter and clamped down on his sexual fantasies. The last thing he wanted at the breakfast table was a hard-on. He seemed to have had a perpetual one since she’d arrived.

  He grabbed his coffee and made his way back to the table. The others were already loading their plates with food.

  Sylvie was seated between Cherise and Anny so he sat across from her. Her hair was braided and her clothing clean and crisp. He had the urge to mess her up. She’d looked flushed and sweaty last night. Delectable.

  “You okay?” Armand asked him, pulling him away from his wayward thoughts.

  “Oui.” He had to get his head back on straight before he caused problems for himself and Sylvie. “We need to be more careful in the coming days. There is something in the air.” He couldn’t explain it, but he trusted his instincts.

  “You think Pierre will attack again?” Cole asked.

  Gator shrugged. “If not him, then some of his flunkies.” Because, honestly, you’d have to be an idiot to come up here looking for trouble unless it was a direct order from your alpha. Too many men had already died for Pierre’s pride and his inability to let Jacque and Louis and the rest of them go.

  Of course, having Sylvie here added another layer of problems.

  Armand glanced at his sister and then back at Gator. “We will talk later.”

  “No.” Sylvie set her fork back on the side of her plate without taking a bite. “I want to know what is going on. You expect trouble because I’m here, don’t you?”

  Since she’d addressed her question to him, Gator answered her honestly. “I do. There’s almost always someone watching us. If they caught a glimpse of you, it’s only a matter of time before Pierre knows.”

  “Enough.” Armand shoved back his chair and planted his hands on the table. “You didn’t need to tell her that,” he insisted.

  Gator noticed Sylvie flinched when her brother jumped up but she held her ground and squared her shoulders.

  “I won’t lie to her.” He was pissed at his friend but managed to hold his temper in check.

  “I’m not a child, Armand.” Her voice quivered slightly when she began but soon steadied. “In fact, I’m older than you. If I’m going to be a part of this pack, I deserve the truth.”

  “We all do.” It was Anny who spoke up. She placed her hand lightly on Armand’s arm. “I know you’re upset, but we need to talk about this. If there’s a threat, we all need to be aware of it.”

  He raked his hand through his hair and heaved out a breath. “I don’t like it.”

  “But you know I’m right?” Anny teased.

  Armand shook his head and gave a rueful laugh. “And you’ll never let me forget it?”

  “Never,” she agreed.

  Armand picked up her hand and brought it to his lips. The two of them never failed to amuse Gator. He glanced at Sylvie and saw confusion quickly followed by some softer emotion. No doubt, this pack was a lot different from what she was used to.

  “Everyone needs to eat before breakfast gets cold,” he informed them. “I didn’t slave over a hot stove for a whole half hour for nothing.”

  As he hoped, Armand laughed, sat back down and picked up his fork.

  “Eat, chère,” he told Sylvie. She grabbed her fork and cut off a piece of waffle. He wished he had a camera to snap a photo of the expression on her face when she took her first bite. She closed her eyes and a small moan escaped her. It sounded eerily similar to the one she’d made when he’d touched her last night. He was thankful for the cover of the table when his dick suddenly sprang to life once again.

  Anny laughed. “I know, right? Gator makes the best waffles. They’re so light and amazingly good. Wait ’til you taste his pancakes. Oh my God, they’re so fluffy.”

  “You’re gonna make me blush,” he told her.

  Anny grinned. “No, I’m going to give you a big head.”

  “That too,” he conceded.

  “But my chocolate cake is better.”

  He picked up his mug and raised it. “Those are fighting words.” Sylvie’s eyes were going back and forth between him and Anny like she was watching some sports match. “Maybe we’ll both make one and let the newest pack member decide.”

  His comment teased a tiny smile from her. Gator’s chest swelled with pleasure. “Oh, no,” Sylvie protested. “I’m not getting in the middle of that. I’ll take chocolate cake any way I can get it.”

  Anny shoveled in another forkful of waffle, chewed and sighed. “I’m so glad I no longer have to worry about my weight. I’d have put on twenty pounds by now with Gator’s cooking and my baking.” She shot Armand a grin. “Werewolf metabolism rocks.”

  Sylvie laughed. It was a small laugh and over quickly, but it settled something deep inside Gator. He realized the restlessness he usually felt was much less prevalent when he was around Sylvie. He was almost…relaxed. What a strange sensation.

  “What are you ladies doing today?” Gator was glad Cole had asked. He wanted to know what Sylvie’s plans were but couldn’t exactly come out and ask without raising questions.

  Anny shot Gator a sideways glance. “I don’t know about the rest of you but I’m making a chocolate cake.”

  Gator laughed. “I’m not about to protest. You know your cake is good.” He dug into his breakfast.

  Anny sniffed. “It’s better than good.”

  “I’ve got some homework from the online class I’m taking.” Cherise turned to Sylvie. “I never had a chance to go to college so I’m doing it by correspondence.”

  Sylvie seemed shocked, which wasn’t all that surprising. Women from the Louisiana Pack were lucky if they finished high school. None of them went on to college. There was no need as far as Pierre was concerned. They were meant to be mates and mothers. Schooling was wasted. Hell, most of the young men never saw the inside of a college either. He never had.

  “What are you taking?” Sylvie asked.

  “I’m just doing a couple of basic courses right now, but I’m thinking about financial management.” Cherise’s eyes brightened with excitement, so different from the woman she’d been only a few weeks ago. But there was trepidation there too.

  “You’re smart enough to do whatever you want to,” Cole informed her. Gator didn’t think anyone would argue with the man, not with the intimidating scowl on his face.

  Cherise simply smiled at her mate. “Maybe. We’ll see. I really like the idea of playing with money and investing.”

  “Whenever you’re ready, I’ve got some money in my sock drawer,” Gator informed her. The pack had more than enough money. In fact, they were quite wealthy. Both Jacque and Armand had a knack for the stock market. They also bought and sold property all over the country. Cole sold some of the furniture and stuff he made in his woodshop through a dealer in Charlotte. Louis tinkered with their machinery, keeping everything running in tiptop condition.

  Gator had never thought about the fact he didn’t have a traditional job. The safety of the pack was his one and only concern. He patrolled and fought to keep them safe. Beyond that, he made sure they were well fed. He considered himself a guardian, a security expert who could also whip up a mean spicy chili.

  What would Sylvie think?

  Shit, why should he care? But he did. This relationship stuff was complicated.

  “Someday I’ll take you up on that,” Cherise told him.

  Cole sat back in his chair and it gave an ominous groan. Gator was always surprised when the wood didn’t simply give way under Cole’s immense size. “I’m heading out to the woodshop. I’m going to stop by Jacque’s first and get the patrol rotation for today and tonight.”

  Gator finished chewing his last slice
of bacon and stood. Usually, he liked to linger over his coffee, but there was too much to be done. “I’m going to get these dishes squared away.”

  Sylvie practically sprang from her chair. “No, I’ll take care of them.” She grabbed several plates and hurried to the counter.

  “You sure?” He sure as hell wouldn’t mind her sticking around to help.

  “Absolutely.”

  Armand snagged his sister’s hand when she came back to the table. “Will you hang around here with the others today? I’ll feel better if I know you’re safe.”

  Sylvie’s expression softened. “For today.”

  Armand nodded and kissed his sister’s hand. “Thank you.” He released Sylvie and turned to his wife. “And you stay out of trouble.”

  Anny laughed and threw her arms around Armand’s neck. “I’ll do my best.”

  He groaned. “Why does that worry me?” Armand kissed her and then headed toward the door. “I’m going to have a quick look around the area.”

  When he left, Cole took that as his cue. He kissed Cherise. “Howl if you need me.” Then he was gone, leaving Gator with the three women.

  Gator hurriedly finished his coffee. “I’ll be around if you need me.”

  “Scared?” Anny teased.

  “Terrified,” he told her.

  Feminine laughter followed him all the way out the door. He glanced over his shoulder, unable to resist one last glance at Sylvie. She was watching him. No, she was watching his butt.

  He grinned and winked at her when she glanced up. Her cheeks turned pink and she looked away. He wanted to go back inside, scoop her up and carrying her to his bedroom. Instead, he made himself keep going.

  The men really needed to talk about security. The safety of their women came first. Everything else would be put on hold until the threat was eliminated.

  Gator growled and wondered if it might be better for him to go back to Louisiana, sneak into Pierre’s house and kill the bastard. He could do it. He was as stealthy and mean as any gator in the swamps.