“I like that. You should do what makes you happy. What makes you feel good.”
Turning my head to him, I saw the mischief in his eyes. Heat rose to my cheeks and butterflies swirled in my stomach as I remembered the night before. He’d made me feelreallygood.
“Very funny,” I said, but couldn’t quite dispel the mental imagery that came from the comment.
Though, that idea might not be a good one to indulge in. Regardless of how well we meshed and how compatible we were sexually, there was still the very real chance that Nate and I would never see where this relationship could really go. There were so many things that could prevent it. The pack and all the rules, him being a lone wolf, and all the baggage I had.
The odds of us working out were so low that I didn’t want to even think about it.
Almost five hours later,Nate pulled up in front of a small café, where we’d be meeting Anita. When we climbed out of the car, both of us stretched, our road stiffness making the first few steps toward the café painful.
Ollie had said Anita was in her early thirties with bright red hair and a scar on her cheek. I spotted her immediately at the back of the café. She saw us, and Ollie must have given hera description of us as well because she waved at us hesitantly. Raising my own hand in greeting, I led Nate to the back booth.
“Anita?” I asked as we approached.
She nodded and gave me a thin smile. “Yes. You’re Cameron and Nate?”
“That would be us,” Nate said, and gave her a reassuring grin as we took our seats opposite her.
A server swooped by before we’d gotten settled to take our orders. During the interaction, I watched Anita. The scar on her face was one of her defining features, marring what would otherwise have been breathtaking beauty. The thin, diagonal, and jagged blemish ran from her right earlobe down her jawline almost to her chin. She seemed overly conscious of it, too, keeping her head turned and presenting the uninjured cheek, as well as touching her face and subtly covering the scar with her hand.
“Anita?” Nate said, his voice low and warm, unthreatening. “I’m really glad you’re willing to speak to us.”
Anita took a sip of her coffee. “When Ollie called and said JC needed a favor, I couldn’t help but say yes.” She must have noticed my gaze lingering on her scar. “It happened a long time ago.”
Blinking in surprise, I tore my eyes from her jaw and back to her eyes, embarrassment sending heat to my cheeks. “Uh, I’m s-sorry,” I stammered. “I didn’t mean to?—”
“It’s fine. No worries.” She ran a finger along the twisted scar. “I call this my battle wound. My bonded mate did it to me.”
“Hewhat?” Nate snarled. “Your ownmate?”
She nodded again. “Yes. He wasn’t who I thought he was, and I didn’t realize it until it was too late.”
The words slammed into me with surreal force. Again, my gaze bounced to her scar and back to her eyes. I could almost envision myself in her shoes. What would have happened if Ihadn’t discovered who Rick truly was? We would have ended up married, and then what? Would he get mad about something I said and attack me like this poor woman’s mate had attacked her?
Anita’s phone rang, and she glanced at the screen. “Sorry, I need to take this. It’s my son.”
She answered the call, keeping her voice low. “Hey, sweetie, what’s wrong?” She flashed us an apologetic smile. “Yes… well, that’s not really something Aunt Sherry can do… She’s in charge while I’m gone, what she says goes… No, you can’t buy more credits for that game… No… No… Can we talk about this when I get home? I’m doing something right now… Okay… Love you, bye.”
She rolled her eyes as she put her phone face down. “Kids. Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine,” I said, waving a hand through the air. But deep down, I could see myself in this woman, and it disturbed me how close I’d come to becoming her. Damaged and all on her own with a child after her mate had shown his true colors. I suppressed a shudder.
“Uh, how’s JC doing?” Anita’s tone was casual, but something in her eyes said there was a deeper meaning behind her question.
“Good, as far as I can tell,” Nate said.
“What’s your connection to Ollie and JC?” I asked.
Anita shrugged one shoulder. “I’m a cop. Ollie and I have worked together in the past. We’re in different packs, but there are times when cases in Detroit and Toronto overlap. JC…” She took what appeared to be a steadying breath after saying his name and went on. “Well, I’ve known him a long time.” Color crept into her cheeks.
It was obvious she and JC hadsomethinggoing on, and she was trying her best to hide it from us. She was doing a poor jobof it. My journalistic intuition told me there was some sort of romantic link between the two. Either current or in the past, I couldn’t tell. Was it forbidden to have a mate outside your pack? Some backwards law similar to the way packs rejected lone wolves?
A lot of what I’d learned and experienced with pack life had been positive so far. I could still see that fat envelope of cash JC had given my mother, and all the hoops he’d jumped through to help me and Ollie after the attack. Yet, it appeared there were alotof things in need of adjustment.
“How is JC, by the way?” Anita asked, doing her best to sound casual but failing miserably.
“He’s good. Are you guys close?” I asked.
