He huffed a martyr style sigh and sat beside me on the bed. Too close in my opinion.
“What men?”
Instead of answering, I looked down at my hands while trying to ignore the quick erratic heartbeat his close proximity caused. He misunderstood my move and made a small noise of annoyance.
“Never mind,” I mumbled.
“Bethi, I really am here to help you. No strings. I just don’t know how,” he said softly.
He thought I just didn’t trust him. He was right. I didn’t. But that wasn’t the reason for my hesitancy. I didn’t like feeling so dependent on him. Especially since my insides kept going crazy when he was close or I when looked at him or when I smelled him. It was getting ridiculous.
“You are helping me,” I said trying for brusque detachment. “If not for you, I’d be walking.”
He studied my profile for a moment before handing me the cup. “I thought coffee might help.”
My throat dried at the quiet concern laced in with his words, so I accepted the cup and took a hasty swig. It scalded my tongue and I almost spit it back into the cup. Instead, I swallowed, burning a layer from my throat. Ignoring his concerned frown, I suggested we hit the road. It was uncomfortable just sitting there.
“I brought you something to eat, too,” he said opening the bag and pulling out a plastic carton.
He sat there patiently holding out the food, waiting for me to decide.
My mouth watered as a hint of bacony goodness drifted my way. He quirked a slight smile at me as I reached for it, but he willingly handed it over. A stacked breakfast sandwich lay inside. My stomach rumbled as I looked at it. I sat next to him and devoured the offering. He smiled as he watched me. I ignored him.
When I threw the carton in the garbage, he stood, picked up my bag, reached inside his jacket, and pulled out my shoes.
“Gee, thanks,” I drawled, reclaiming my missing shoes.
Luke grinned in response and handed me the jacket as well before he shouldered my bag and walked out the door to check us out of the room. I set my almost empty coffee to the side, sat and peeled off the extra socks.
He’d done it again, helped me without demanding anything in return. Was he just waiting for a moment of weakness before he pounded, or had my dream about Baen pointed me toward help? I wanted to believe Luke was the help I was meant to find. Yet he also did things to make sure I didn’t run from him. I mean, come on! He stole my shoes. And did he think I didn’t notice him leaving with my bag? I wondered why he did any of it. Was it because he thought I wouldn’t be safe if I struck out on my own again or something else? I really wanted the answer to be because he was worried about me. Yet, at the same time, I knew I was being irrational. How many lifetimes had the werewolves shown me that they couldn’t be trusted. It far outnumbered the two lifetimes—so far, anyway—that they had tried to keep me safe. Still...I wanted to believe. The thought that he was keeping me captive...well, I needed to believe my life wasn’t hopeless.
I beat him to the motorcycle and waited, watching him cross the parking lot. My heart gave a quick stutter as he got closer. He moved with purpose, and his eyes swept over me. I tried to squash any signs of my physical attraction, but I couldn’t help watching his long legs clear the seat with ease. To distract myself, I wondered what he’d look like as a dog. Would he have those same menacingly eerie eyes? Would he threaten me with his teeth?
After settling behind him, he motioned to the strap on his shoulder. I grudgingly lifted the bag around my torso. Falling from the back of the bike didn’t sound fun.
We pulled away in a hurry. Even with all of the sleep, I felt the tug of the next dream. I tried everything from sticking my face in the wind—versus staying crouched behind Luke—to biting my lip as hard as I could. Eventually, the dream won.
Chapter Six
A hand tapping my face pulled me out.
“We need help. A car. This isn’t working,” he said gently.
“No, this is fine,” I mumbled peeling my eyes open. It really wasn’t fine. We were pulled over again. Trees lined the sides of the road in both directions. For a second time, I sat in his lap with the bag and strap twisted around us. The bike still idled.
“Can you make it twenty minutes without sleeping?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “It seems worse with you.”
He looked at me in surprise. “When I’m near you, you don’t cry out. I thought your dreams calmed when I...” He didn’t finish his sentence, but I filled in the missing parts.
He was right. My dreams did calm when I was near him. I dreamed of helpful things like glimpses of explanations from the Taupe Lady, instead of my constant pointless death. In fact, I’d learned so much more after Luke found me than in the prior months.
My eyes widened as I considered the implications. Was Luke really the key? In my past lives, after claiming a werewolf, the dreams had come less frequently. And when they did appear, their purpose was more focused. So, if I Claimed Luke...
“I changed my mind,” I said quickly. “I will Claim you.”
“No!” He flinched as if I slapped him, but his gaze drifted to my mouth.
