A Mate's Forgiving Touch Read online

  “I’m sorry, sir, but I knew you’d want to know straightaway. We were hunting, and we stalked this big ol’ buck for a while. To see if he brought us to the rest of the herd, ya know.” The words tumbled over one another as Dale rushed to explain. Rocks settled in the pit of Connor’s stomach, knowing they wouldn’t have risked the old man’s wrath to tell him about a deer. “Anyway, we followed the buck, but I got tired of waiting. Mom is doing a big family dinner this evening, and you know how she gets if anyone is late to her table.”

  “Get to the point, Dale,” Donald snapped.

  “Sorry, sorry. So I lined up on him, and then this huge wolf leaped outta nowhere and attacked the deer!” Dale grinned like a kid on his birthday. Connor swallowed back a mouthful of bile, cursing himself for such a rookie mistake.

  “There are no wolves around here, boy. I can’t believe you’ve wasted my time with this nonsense,” Donald scoffed. He leaned toward Dale, sniffing loudly. “You’ve been drinking. I can smell it all over you. Go home, you damn fool.” Turning on his heel, Donald stalked toward the house. He might be able to control his body language, but the sour stink of his fear-sweat reached Connor easily.

  Dale’s face turned bright red and his thin lips twisted. He glared at Donald’s retreating back. “I know what I saw! My dad told me all the old stories.”

  Donald froze but didn’t turn around. A nasty smile glinted on Dale’s face as he walked a couple of paces closer. “I’m going home now, like you suggested. You can expect a call later. Better start making preparations, Donald.”

  Connor crawled back around the corner, waiting until the voices behind the house faded before he knocked on Bailey’s door. He heard her voice approaching, and she still had a phone tucked under her ear when she pulled the door open. She frowned, raising her finger to her lips to indicate he should remain quiet, while she tried to wind up the call. Her nose wrinkled, and she leaned toward him before pulling back with a look of disgust on her face. He gave her his best puppy eyes, and she shook her head, a sweet smile curling her mouth. Stepping to one side, she pointed in the direction of the bathroom. He didn’t need to be asked twice.

  Crossing the threshold, he toed off his boots when she clicked her fingers at him, still uh-humming into the phone. She looked so cute in her casual clothes, her curves enhanced by the white tank and pale-gray yoga pants combo. Forgetting about the stink of the creek clinging to him, he aimed a kiss at her cheek. Ducking under his arm, she wafted her hand in front of her nose, pointing imperiously toward the bathroom door again.

  Stripping off his clothes, he stepped under the stream of hot water and scrubbed his body vigorously. The bathroom door opened. Wiping his hand over the steamed-up glass, he watched her scoop up his clothing from the floor. Holding it at arm’s length, she glared at him.

  “You’re three hours early.”

  “I’m sorry. I can explain—”

  A loud knock came from the internal door leading to the central part of the house.

  “Bailey, I need to talk to you. Right now!” Donald shouted, knocking again.

  “Shit! Stay here and keep quiet.” She dropped his clothes, closing the bathroom door behind her.

  Connor turned off the water and exited the cubicle. Wrapping himself in one of the thick cotton bath sheets folded in neat stacks in the storage rack beside the sink, he patted the water from his skin. The dominant in him wanted to storm out there and protect his mate, but he forced himself to settle beside the door so he could listen to the conversation unfolding.

  “I’m busy, Dad. What’s so damn important?” Connor grinned at the familiar belligerence in her tone. Who am I trying to fool thinking my girl needs anyone to protect her?

  “What the hell have you been doing?” Donald sounded ready to go a few rounds himself. “How many times have I told you to stay in the basement if you have to change into that fucking animal of yours? Jesus, Bailey! I thought you had it under control.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t shifted since the last full moon. It’s the only time I can shift. You know that.”

  Connor clenched his fists tightly. Bailey thinks she can only shift with the moon? Although some wolves were moon-dependent, his alpha included, they were also free to shift at any other time the urge took them. If she only shifted once a month, it would go a long way toward explaining the disconnection between her and her wolf.

  “Christ! I told you that when you were a kid, so I didn’t find a damn wolf following me every time I turned around,” Donald shouted in frustration. Connor shoved the towel in his mouth to muffle his snarl of fury. The sooner he got his mate away from the miserable bastard, the better. “I just wanted you to be normal, honey, to be the little girl my Vivi dreamed of, but could never have. When I found you in the woods, I was sure she’d sent you to me.” Real pain laced his voice, and Connor pushed away the tiny thread of sympathy trying to form. The man hurt Bailey. He’d spent years forcing her to go against her nature, damaging the bond between woman and wolf.

  “Don’t touch me.” Bailey’s voice sounded brittle. Connor balled his fists, ripping the towel in two to stop himself from going out there and shredding Donald open.

  “Honey, I’m sorry. I’m just worried about you is all. Why would Dale and his boys come to my door with tales of a wolf on my land if it’s not you?” Donald’s tone sounded more conciliatory at least, but he should be crawling on his belly for forgiveness.

  “I don’t know and I don’t care. What else have you lied to me about?” The tears in his mate’s voice drove daggers into Connor’s heart. Grabbing a fresh towel, he slung it round his hips and wrenched the door open. Forcing a smile to his lips, he swaggered into the living room, faking surprise at the sight of Donald.

  “Oh, hey, Mr. Clarke, I didn’t realize you were here. Baby, you’d better jump in the shower if we’re going to make it to the movie on time.” He bussed her cheek with his lips, stepping forward to insert his body between her and her father. “You’d be welcome to join us, Mr. Clarke. In fact, I’d welcome your support. Bailey has set her heart on a chick flick. If you come along, we can out-vote her and watch something with explosions.” The words and his tone might be jovial and friendly, but Connor let the predator within him rise, using his full height to intimidate the older man. Give me an excuse, you bastard. A smile of satisfaction tugged the corner of his mouth when Donald stepped back.

  Bailey dug him in the back, but he refused to move other than to reach behind and tug her closer to his body. His good intentions about letting her fight her own battles had vanished at the first scent of the raw pain flooding her body. His mate hurt, and that was unacceptable.

  “Thank you for the invitation, but I have other plans. We’ll talk about this later, Bailey.” Donald made a good attempt at being polite, but a wolf’s nose didn’t lie. He stank of fear and something very much like guilt.

  Connor smiled, all teeth and no warmth. Donald turned on his heel, hurrying out the room. The door hadn’t finished closing before Connor had Bailey enfolded in his arms. She didn’t try to fight him, which worried him more than the sadness tainting her naturally sweet fragrance. Carrying her into the bedroom, he shed the towel from around his hips and placed her in the middle of the bed. Crawling in behind her, he curled his big body around hers and tugged her back to his chest.

  “He hates me,” she whispered. “Things have never been easy between us, but I always believed he did his best for me.”

  Drawing her closer still, Connor buried his face against the bare nape of her neck, biting down sharply. Arousal bloomed in her scent, chasing away the sadness. She rocked back against his cock which stiffened in an instant. They needed to talk, and they would, but he needed to soothe her hurt first. Stripping the thin cotton pants from her hips, he lifted her leg back over his thigh, opening her to his touch. A few soft strokes and she was slick and ready for him. He tilted his hips, easing his length inside her pus
sy, and she sighed. They rocked together in silence, and he stroked his hands over every inch of her skin within reach. Petting her, calming her until their passion swelled and they slid into oblivion together.

  The sun had set by the time they finally broke apart. Bailey turned on her side to face him. It pleased him beyond words when she snuggled so close their noses touched. “I need your help.”

  Cupping her cheek, he vowed. “I’m here, lover. I’ll always be here for whatever you need.”

  “I don’t know how to talk to my wolf. I don’t know anything about being a wolf. He’s lied to me about everything, hasn’t he?” Pragmatism had replaced the sadness in her scent, and his heart swelled with pride. His girl was a fighter. Her father had dealt a tremendous blow to her sense of reality. Most people would be shattered by it for days, weeks even. Not his Bailey, though.

  “I love you.” He hadn’t known it until the words left his lips, but they were absolute truth. Silence stretched between them, but she didn’t try to pull away from him.

  “I can’t say it back.” The words brushed against his cheek, and, although the wolf growled, the man understood.

  “I don’t need you to say it, baby. It’s not a competition. The wolf knew you were ours from the first moment we met. It’s a Burrows’ trait. We fall fast and we fall hard.” He rolled onto his back, pulling her with him until she sprawled over his body. Burying his hands in her hair, he drew her down for a kiss.

  “And we fall forever.”

  Chapter Six

  She hadn’t realized she’d been waiting for it until she heard his soft knock. The cares and stresses of the day melted away the moment she opened the door and stepped into his hard embrace. Citrus and musk were becoming the scent of home. She needed to tell him. Soon. Sweat, dust, and grime overlaid his natural essence, the smells of a man who’d been working hard all day. “You came straight from the site?”

  He stepped back with a muttered apology. “Yeah, we worked through because Dale wants to finish early tomorrow. Got some big plans, although he hasn’t said what and I didn’t bother to ask.”

  He bent over to unlace his boots. She smiled at the little gesture of respect. He carried them straight into the utility room to put them on the sheet of newspaper she’d placed on the floor. She readily admitted to being a neat freak, and he accepted it without complaining. Stripping the rest of his clothing, he placed them straight in the washer and switched it on. Uncaring about his nudity, he crossed back to her, collected his backpack and pressed a kiss on her lips. The sculpted perfection of his ass left her breathless. He chuckled as he walked to the bedroom, knowing full well she watched his every step.

  “Like what you see, lover?” He paused to wink over his shoulder. “There’s room in the shower for both of us.”

  Didn’t she know it? Connor had a definite preference for water-based fun, including a fast and furious session in her corner tub which resulted in a minor flood. His sense of fun when it came to sex both surprised and delighted her. As had her previously undiscovered multi-orgasmic talent.

  Grinning to herself, she wandered toward the kitchen to make a start on supper. Having spent so many years fighting against the stereotype of what a woman’s role should be, particularly in the male-dominated construction industry, it had taken her some time to acknowledge the pleasure she gained from nourishing her mate. Connor made it easy, thank goodness. While grateful for every comfort she offered him, he made sure to return it tenfold. He treated her home with care and respect, cleaned up after them both and never thought twice about dividing the chores. I could get used to sharing my space with him.

  She lost herself in the soothing process of chopping, browning, and combining the ingredients for the chicken carbonara. A simple dish, but packed with protein and carbohydrates, ideal for their higher metabolism. She found it such a relief to share meals with someone who understood her large appetite.

  Connor padded into the kitchen, a low-slung pair of sweat pants clinging to his hips. He paused to curl his arms around her waist from behind, and pressed a kiss to the side of her throat. She leaned back against the solid wall of his chest, the gesture an automatic response.

  “Smells good.” He leaned over her shoulder, inhaling the scents of fried garlic, onions, and meat.

  She turned her face into his neck, seeking that perfect spot behind his ear. Pressing her nose close, she drew in his very essence until it flooded her system, sending her synapses sparking. Her man smelled so fucking good. A soft growl rumbled in her chest, soaking her panties instantly.

  He laughed in delight. “Easy, lover. Training first, food then fucking.”

  “It’s going to take at least thirty minutes for the sauce to cook.” She sank her teeth into the soft lobe of his ear.

  “You’re insatiable.” It didn’t sound like a complaint.

  Holding her hand loosely in his, he pointed out the cloud formations overhead. “Humans do their utmost to segregate themselves from nature. They build boxes to shield them from the elements, use technology and electricity to negate the rhythms of the planet. They fight against their natural surroundings, pervert them to meet their needs, and in doing so have lost too much knowledge. I find it ironic in this great age of scientific marvel and technological wonder that humans are more ignorant than ever about the one thing vital for their continued survival.” He shook his head. “The rain is there. I can taste the promise of it on my tongue. Close your eyes and lift your face up. Feel the wind. What does she say to you?”

  Bailey squeezed her eyes shut. Turning in a slow circle, she tried to find the breeze. She paused, sensing a minute change in the air against her cheek. He was right. Humans tended to skim the surface of their responses, processing the minimum information necessary to function. They relied on external data sources over their own internal awareness. What’s the weather going to be today?—turn on the television and listen to a man in a studio. God forbid they might stick their noses outside the door and study the sky. She needed to stop pretending she was human.

  Fur tickled beneath her skin and awareness prickled. Nose twitching, she drew in another breath, sampling and sorting the array of data teasing through her olfactory canal. She sensed something there, a pause, like the plants and trees around her held their breath in anticipation. They hadn’t had rain for a few weeks and the land was parched.

  She licked her lips, sampling the air. “Heavier. The air feels heavier than it did this morning. It tastes…. I don’t know how to describe it.” Frowning in frustration, she scrambled for the right words. Delineating each of her senses in her mind, she sorted through the jumble of information. She was used to being good at everything she tried. Trying to coax her wolf further forward, she snapped her eyes open when the enhanced skills of the creature faded away. “Damn it. I must be the worst wolf ever.”

  The smile on Connor’s face lifted her flagging spirits. “You are doing great, baby. I’m really proud of you.” He stroked a finger down her cheek. One simple point of contact between them and she turned liquid for him. His smile deepened into something wicked, and his voice rumbled in his chest. “Lessons over, lover. Time to eat.” He licked his lips, the look in his eye telling her he had more than spaghetti carbonara on his mind.

  They sat naked on the bed, bowls of pasta and sauce balanced on trays across their knees, cold glasses of white wine resting on the bedside tables next to them. Connor ate his food with the same focus he applied to so many things. Food had so often been little more than fuel to her, and the way he savored the meal provided another contrast to the way she’d been living her life. Survival. Moving from task to task. Performing instead of experiencing.

  He cleared his bowl and placed the tray on the floor beside the bed. Adjusting the pillows, he fixed his attention on her. A pensive frown drew his brows together, making her squirm under the intensity of his stare.

  Appetite fading, she forked up a final few mouthfuls before abandoning her m
eal. “Is something wrong?”

  “I don’t get it.” He shook his head when she offered to refill his glass, so she sloshed a large measure into her own. His change in attitude confused her. One minute they’d been laughing together, the next the shutters were down, his face hard.

  “Don’t get what?” She gulped at her drink, feeling uncomfortable under his attention.

  “The cheating.” He cocked his head in a not altogether human gesture.

  “You’ve lost me, I’m afraid.” Cheating? He knows there isn’t anyone else in my life.

  “Mac, at the hardware store. The fake invoices. You’re the biggest employer in town, Bailey. I see the Clarke’s signs everywhere I look, and yet you rip off a supplier for a few measly grand.” He shook his head, disappointment and disgust lacing his voice.

  Alarm bells rang so hard in her head she closed her eyes for a moment. Mac Johnson had supplied the bulk of the materials for the Yarrow job. The job Dale and his crew were working on. The job that wasn’t making enough profit.

  “That dirty fucking snake!” Fury flooded her veins.

  Thrusting her half-empty wine glass into Connor’s hand, she jumped off the bed. Dashing naked from the room, her feet slapped against the wooded stairs as she sprinted to her office. Bending over, she rifled through the stack of files in the lower drawer of her desk until she found the one she wanted. The stairs creaked and warmth coated her back, but Connor didn’t speak as he peered over her shoulder at the paperwork strewn before her. Comparing the two invoices, she growled deep in her throat. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She’d given her trust, and Dale had taken full advantage. I’ll kill him. I’ll rip his throat out and chew on his….

  Grabbing her phone, she punched in a number, drumming her nails on the desk as she waited for Dale to pick up.

  “Hey, boss, whass’up?” The asshole sounded drunk.