Lost and Found (A Werewolf Wars Novel Book 4) (12 page)

Sarah’s hand flew to her chest as she laughed, while wiping at her eyes. “We should probably keep moving,” she said, clearing the air. “This probably isn’t the best roadside conversation to be having.”

Vincent closed his eyes and smiled, quickly composing himself. She was right, of course. Deep conversations on the side of the highway weren’t exactly practical. “Let’s go.”

“T
hanks for the ride,” Vincent called as he shut the white semi-truck door.

“Any time. You all be safe now,” the elderly gentleman called as he drove off.

Vincent turned to Sarah, watching as she absent-mindedly dragged the toe of her shoe through the gravel.

“Welcome to my home,” Vincent grinned. “I hope you’re up for a walk. I think the drive is about a mile long.”

“Of course it is,” Sarah yawned. “I wouldn’t expect anything less. You wolves like your land.”

“That we do,” Vincent agreed. He paused as he caught sight of a red, white, and blue realtor sign. Looked like his mom really was selling the place. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, unsure how he felt about the situation.

“You okay?” Sarah questioned, stopping to stare at the sign.

“Yeah. If the house is on the market, it must mean the electricity and water are still on. Think how nice it will be to take a hot shower.” He could practically feel the steaming water on his skin. The shower was only a short walk away.

He and Sarah started a speedy walk down the drive, both anxious to get inside and have a few comforts they’d been without for days.

“What’s the plan?” Sarah asked.

“I figure we’ll get cleaned up, eat, and then check out my dad’s office. Maybe take the night to rest before we call Malakai,” Vincent replied thoughtfully.

He was tired, but his body was okay. It was Sarah he was worried about. She’d taken a lot of hits and had the bumps and bruises to prove it. The last thing he wanted was to push her too hard.

Sarah nodded her head, her flaxen hair bobbing up and down like a child’s toy. “I could use a good night’s rest and a good filling meal.”

Vincent’s stomach growled, twisting with hunger. “We should order a pizza,” he suggested, his taste buds salivating.

“What about money?” Sarah asked.

“Not a worry now. I know for a fact my mom keeps spare cash around the house in various spots. We should have enough to get us pizza and anything else we need. My dad’s car is still here, I believe. If it is, we’ll have a vehicle. I always did want to drive his BMW. I was never allowed to, though. I was ‘too reckless,’” Vincent joked.

“You still are,” Sarah quipped with a grin before adding, “It sounds like Emmett was on a power trip in every aspect of his life.”

“Yeah.”

“Was he always like that?” Sarah asked.

Vincent thought back. It would be nice to have at least one fond memory of his father. “No,” he answered. “But he was never really involved with us. Except for Daniel. My mom was the one that took care of everything for the rest of us.”

“We did a lot of stuff as a family, but when I was younger—elementary school aged—my dad worked a lot. I can recall nights where he wouldn’t be home until after I was already in bed,” Sarah admitted with a sigh.

“I guess no family is perfect. Some are more dysfunctional than others,” Vincent commented, knowingly.

Silence enveloped them as they continued down the drive; only the sound of their shoes crunching the gravel could be heard. When the large brick house came into view, Vincent let out a relieved breath as he caught sight of the brightly lit porch. The power was on, but it was eerily quiet—almost unnaturally so. He was used to the house bustling with life. Now, it was deserted.

“Nice,” Sarah commented, her pace quickening the closer they got. “Are we going to the main house?”

“Yeah. I have rooms in both houses,” Vincent commented. Although he had two rooms, only one of them felt like home. He would prefer to stay in the guesthouse. It had always felt homier to him—probably because Emmett never went in there—but he was certain Sarah would not appreciate the mess in that house. After a few months of being dormant, it probably looked worse than he remembered.

“Both?” Sarah questioned, quirking her brow up at him.

“I stayed in the guesthouse primarily. But when we had company over, we played the happy family, and Dev and I stayed in the main house,” he explained. He often wondered if they ever fooled any of their guests.

“Wow, and here I thought I was special having my own room growing up, and you had two,” she teased.

Vincent chuckled as they clamored up the steps, but paused as he saw a small grey case hanging from the door. He’d expected the door to be unlocked; his family always left it that way. With the whole pack, there wasn’t a need to lock it. Besides, a wolf could get in, locked or not.

“You do have a key, right?” Sarah asked warily.

“Of course I do.” He grasped the grey box in his hand and yanked down, breaking it free from the door. A grin slid over his face as he pulled the panel open and held up the shiny, brass key, proudly. “See.”

“Superhuman strength,” she rolled her eyes, smiling.

“Admit it, you’re kind of jealous.”

“I’ll admit there are some aspects of being a wolf that might be nice,” she answered honestly as he led them inside.

He swallowed thickly as he took in the creamy walls and floral décor. His mother had free reign to decorate the house as she saw fit—everything except for Emmett’s office. The rooms all flowed nicely together in light pastel colors. It was odd to be back at home. For one, he didn’t think he’d ever see the place again. Beyond that, there were so many bad memories associated with this place, especially when he considered the events leading up to their departure.

Sarah sneezed in rapid succession, drawing him from his thoughts.

“You all right?” he asked, worried.

“It’s just a little dusty in here,” she said, blinking.

“Sorry,” he murmured.

Sarah waved him off. “It’s a house—a real one. I can handle a little dust if it means a hot shower and a warm bed.”

Vincent smiled. He liked that Sarah wasn’t a complainer. While she looked like the girls he usually took home, she wasn’t prissy and delicate. It was a trait that was really starting to grow on him.

“Well, let me show you to Em’s room. I’m sure she won’t mind, seeing as she abandoned all her wonderful clothes and girly bathroom.”

Sarah giggled as she followed him up the stairs and down the hall, before pushing open the white door belonging to Emily’s room. The lilac scent reminiscent of his sister invaded him and he sighed, missing her terribly. He wondered if he’d ever get to see her again.

“Help yourself to whatever you need. I’ll be down the hall getting cleaned up. Then we’ll order some food,” Vincent said, motioning for her to enter.

“Thanks. I’ll see you in a few,” she replied as she looked around the room.

“Holler if you need anything.” He closed the door, but didn’t latch it as he left. His room was just a few doors down, close enough that he could get to her quickly if there were any issues.

***

S
arah padded down the stairs, feeling refreshed and feminine for the first time in days. She’d even taken the time to blow dry her hair and toss it up into a messy bun. 

Emily’s room was warm and inviting, just like it’s owner. It had been easy for Sarah to find her way around and she’d quickly found a pair of cotton shorts and a tee to lounge in. Everything she could possibly need was in the she-wolf’s old bedroom, except for food and water.

Her stomach growled at the thought of food and she couldn’t help but wonder where the kitchen was. She might not make it until the pizza arrived.

As she wandered around the house, Sarah heard a muffled voice coming from behind a closed door. Crossing the living room, she followed the sound. She pushed on the oak door and paused in the entryway.

Vincent stood with his back to her, shirtless, wearing only a pair of black mesh shorts. His cocoa brown hair stood up in spikes and was still wet from his shower.

Sarah bit her lip.
He looks good.
Muscles rippled across his back as he pulled a wad of cash out of a birdhouse-shaped cookie jar.

“Great, thanks,” he said, setting the cordless phone down on the blue graphite countertop. He turned around with a smile. “Pizza and goodies will be here in thirty minutes. I got a variety: a large pepperoni, mild wings, fries, an Italian sub, and cookies. I wanted to make sure I got things you liked.”

Sarah grinned. “That sounds good. Especially the cookies!” She was starving and the thought of pizza made her taste buds salivate. Add on the cookies and she was in heaven. She hadn’t had a sweet treat since her last shift at The Cookie Jar. That was weeks ago—clearly, she was overdue.

“How is your arm?” Vincent asked, his eyes drifting to the cut on her arm.

She held it up for him to see. “It looks good. I’ll probably have a scar, but it doesn’t look infected and it’s healing, so I don’t think we need to worry about it.”

“Welcome to the Werewolf Claws Club. You’re not an official member of the pack until you have claw scars,” he joked.

“Glad to be an official member of the pack.”

“So, you want the official tour?” Vincent asked, trying to avoid awkward silence.

“Sure.”

Vincent motioned with his arms, gesticulating at the room. “This is the kitchen, in case you didn’t notice,” he smirked with a wink. Sarah followed him as he walked across the light blue tiles to the door through which she entered. “You should see the set up we have downstairs,” he said excitedly, opening a door, leading down into a finished basement.

The plush white carpet squished between her toes. A massive TV—she didn’t even know how many inches—hung from the wall. Against the back wall, a jade-green leather wrap-around sofa completed the man cave. She could easily see Vincent lounging down here on the couch.

“I can’t believe this is still here,” Vincent exclaimed, picking up a clear DVD case.

“Is that a rental?” Sarah asked.

“Why? Are you worried about the astronomical late fee?” Vincent asked, amused, turning on the DVD player and ejecting a disk. He held the disc up for her to see. “We are
so
watching this tonight.”

Sarah squinted, trying to read the small print as she moved closer. Whatever movie this was, Vincent was clearly excited about it. She was curious to see the title. “
Teen Wolf,”
she read aloud. “Never heard of it.”

“Oh, come on!” Vincent yelled enthusiastically. “You have to watch this. It’s a classic. It’s also completely wrong, but it’s hilarious.”

“Okay,” Sarah agreed, interested to see what the movie was about. He was clearly excited and she didn’t want to ruin the mood. Besides, watching a movie would be fun.

“Come on. Let’s get everything set up so we can start it as soon as the pizza arrives.” He grabbed her hand and tugged her to the stairs.

Sarah jogged up the stairs after him, a wide smile on her face. The past few days had been horrendous, but right now it didn’t seem so bad. They needed a night to relax.

***

S
arah picked up her discarded paper plate and cup from the floor and followed Vincent upstairs. She’d eaten intermittently throughout the duration of the movie and was stuffed. It didn’t help that Vincent had brought down so many delicious things to eat. He’d even made a bag of popcorn to accompany their feature film. The evening was perfect.

Vincent had added his commentary throughout the movie. Between the film and her companion, she had laughed so much, her cheeks hurt.

“Good movie, right?” he asked as he opened the door to the kitchen and held up the trashcan lid for her.

She threw her stuff away. “Yeah.” It had been okay. Not the usual thing that she watched, but she had gotten a kick out of Vincent’s commentary.

“There’s a sequel. We don’t have it here, though. And I’m going to guess I’m no longer allowed to rent movies unless I pay whatever fine they’ve charged me.”

“I’m sure we can rent it in Texas,” Sarah said, yawning.

“We must be getting old. Tired and ready for bed before nine,” Vincent said, stifling his own yawn. “Do you want to go to bed?”

Sarah paused, wondering where exactly they would be going to bed.

“You can stay in Em’s room if you want. Or, we can share a room—whatever you are most comfortable with,” Vincent added quickly.

Sarah bit her lip. There was something comforting about being in Vincent’s embrace. He was warm and solid and it just felt right. Tomorrow they would return to their crazy, chaotic lives; who knew what the future held for them. Would they remain good friends or was something more brewing between them? Again, she found herself wondering what Vincent would taste like or feel pressed against her intimately.

He was only a foot away from her; it would be easy to lean in and kiss him. Her heart skipped a beat as their eyes met. She could tell by the gleam in his eyes he was thinking along the same lines.

“Sarah,” he whispered, leaning in and capturing her lips with his.

He tasted like chocolate chip cookies. His lips melded against hers as she pulled him closer, winding her hands into his thick hair. In that moment, it didn’t matter what the future held. The only thing she cared about was this moment they were sharing.

She’d been grieving and angry for so long, she needed to live again. Vincent made her feel alive and, even if she couldn’t say it, she certainly could show it.

Sarah deepened the kiss, parting her lips to allow his tongue entrance. Vincent skimmed her teeth and nipped at her mouth. She trailed her fingers up his bare chest, smiling inwardly at the slight growl that escaped him.

“Wait,” he pulled back, shaking his head. “We can’t do this.”

Sarah swallowed hard, stung by his rejection.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he said. “You’re grieving and then there’s Lark and Devon. I like you, but I don’t know if I can do a real relationship and I won’t take advantage of you. I care about you too much to do that,” he said honestly.