Lycan Redemption (9 page)

“What’s wrong?” Patrick asked in between licks.

“Nothing, baby.” She patted him on the back. “Nothing at all.”

Chapter Seven

Galen left the store carrying his packages. He was nearly out of cash, and needed to find a way to get more without tipping off his pursuers. He had plenty of money. He’d been around a long time, had accumulated substantial wealth, but he had to be extra careful about accessing any of it since the manhunt on him had started. They would have done their research on him. He was sure if he dipped into any of his accounts, they’d be tipped off immediately. He didn’t need money to survive, but he wanted to make sure Myka was taken care of before he left. If anything happened to him before he could resolve the predicament he was in and get back to her, he wanted to make sure she never had to worry about money again.

He’d get it done. There were a few people who owed him favors, and he’d make sure Myka and Patrick were looked after before he disappeared.

He spotted Myka and Patrick talking to an older woman with graying hair beside the truck. Myka was smiling that smile that made him warm inside, made him feel good, made all in the world seem right—even when it wasn’t.

Thus far, he hadn’t scented any lycans in the area, and for the time being, he was at ease. But as he proceeded to the truck, he doubted that feeling would last long.

“My great-grandson is coming to visit tomorrow for a few days. I thought it would be wonderful if Patrick could come stay with us for a couple nights. Leroy would love the company. We have a great time during his visits, but there is only so much to do in this small town. I know he would enjoy having someone his own age to play with. He and Patrick are only separated by three months.”

“Oh, can I? Can I, please?” Patrick hopped up and down in front of Myka.

Galen put the packages in the truck, then went around and stood beside them. Myka immediately turned a bright smile on him, and his insides turned to mush.

“This is Galen. He’s been helping me out at my place,” Myka said to the woman. “Galen, this is Betty Case. She’s a retired psychiatrist. She makes special visits to see Patrick.”

Betty smiled warmly at him, the crinkles around her eyes telling him she smiled often. He hadn’t missed Myka’s hint about Betty helping Patrick either. He assumed she was helping him cope with his father’s death and the circumstances arising from it.

“Pleasure to meet you, Betty,” Galen said.

“I was trying to convince Myka to let me have Patrick for a couple days while my great-grandson visits.”

Galen liked Patrick, but the chance to be alone with Myka was an opportunity he wouldn’t mind having.

“How did the visit go with Doc?” Galen asked.

“He thinks Patrick simply overdid things with the hay and rain.” Myka frowned.

“We’ll have to make sure you don’t work too hard next round of hay,” Galen said to Patrick.

“So can I go, Myka? Please?”

“You know your play day is tomorrow?” When she saw the disappointment that crept over his young face, she knew she was doomed. “Tell you what. As long as your fever doesn’t come back before tomorrow, you can go. Otherwise, you have to stay home. It probably wouldn’t be a good idea for you to be around all of those other kids so soon anyway. Might get you overexcited. However, I’m sure hanging out with Betty and Leroy would be fine.”

“Yay!” Patrick whooped. “My fever won’t come back. I know it won’t!”

They all laughed, and Myka invited Betty to have lunch with them at Polly’s, but she politely declined.

“I have to get my house cleaned and in order for my company. Would you like for me to come pick Patrick up tomorrow?” Betty asked.

“No. I’ll bring him to you. You have enough going on. What time would you like him?”

“About four? Then he can eat supper with Leroy and I.”

“We’ll see you then.” Myka smiled.

“Good to meet you. You take care of our Myka.”

“I will do that,” Galen answered. He would always take care of Myka as long as he was around . . . and even when he wasn’t.

“I’m starving.” Patrick’s stomach rumbled loudly.

“Are you finished with your errands, Galen?” Myka asked.

“Yes. I’m hungry too. If you don’t need to do anything else, we can go eat.”

Myka nodded, and Patrick headed for the truck. Galen reached behind the seat and pulled out one of the packages before getting in. He handed it to Patrick.

“For me?” His eyes were wide.

“Yes.”

He started the truck as Patrick tore into the box.

“Wow.” He stared down at the dark brown cowboy hat.

“Do you like it?” Galen asked.

“Course I do.” He stuck it on his head. “Thank you!”

Galen didn’t miss the frown that pulled down at Myka’s lips before quickly being replaced by a smile when Patrick looked her way. Was she upset because he’d bought Patrick the hat? Maybe he should have asked her first.

“It looks great on you, Patrick.” Myka tapped the top of the hat.

The next few moments were filled with Patrick talking about how he wanted to be a cowboy when he grew up, and he only stopped when Galen parked the truck in front of Polly’s. Patrick jumped out of the truck after Myka slid out of the passenger seat, and hurried ahead of them.

“I should have asked you before giving him the hat,” Galen said quietly to Myka so Patrick couldn’t hear.

She glanced up at him. “No. It’s okay. It’s just . . .”

Myka didn’t get to finish that sentence, as after they walked through the door, they were greeted by a hostess and seated. Soon after, they ordered, ate, and made the drive back to the farm.

* * * *

Later that night, Galen rubbed Buddy’s neck as the horse munched on some hay.

“It’s a beautiful night,” he said.

“How did you know I was here?” Myka asked, surprised.

He turned toward her and shrugged. What was he supposed to tell her? That the closer she got to him, the stronger her scent grew? That even though he was all the way out in the barn, he could hear her open the door to the house? Hear every light step she took as she walked to the barn?

She had showered and wore a dark blue long-sleeved shirt and black baggy jeans. Her damp hair fell around her face and shoulders, and his fingers itched to touch her. Her scent called to him, and he had to fight the urge to go to her and take her in his arms.

“We never got to finish our discussion about the hat,” he said before leaning against a support post that ran up to the loft. “I should have asked you first.”

“Patrick loves the hat. I had to wait until he fell asleep to get it off him.”

“Yes, but you weren’t happy about my giving it to him.”

“Why do you say that?” She frowned.

“I’m very in tune to you.”

She watched him for a moment before sighing.

“Why didn’t you want me to give it to him?”

“Because he’s getting too close to you.”

“And?”

“And he needs a man in his life—a father figure. When you leave, it will tear him apart. Giving him things is only going to make it worse for him. He’s been through enough.”

“People come in and out of our lives all of the time. The simple fact that they may not stay forever shouldn’t be a reason to not get close to them. Every time we care about someone, that experience enriches our lives. It does hurt when we lose someone we care about, but it’s better to have had that time with them than not to have met them at all.”

“Maybe.”

“It’s no different than animals, Myka. One day Buddy will die. One day Chloe will die. Would you so readily trade the love, the joy that they brought into your life, the time that you got to spend with them for not having to feel the pain of their loss?”

“No. I know you are right, but Buddy will be around for a long time.”

“That’s not guaranteed. Life is fragile. Buddy probably will be around for a long time, but Buddy could die tomorrow, next week, next month just as easily. Every moment we spend with anyone, anything, that brings us happiness is a gift to be treasured.”

He went to her and placed his hands on her shoulders.

“If things were different in my life right now, I would give you my word that I would never leave here. Why can’t we cherish the time we have? I never thought I’d meet a woman like you. You are perfect in every way.”

“You don’t know me that well.” She gasped.

He gazed down into the mesmerizing blue-violet pools of her eyes.

“I know you, and whether you want to admit it or not, you know me.”

“I know you are a good man. I know that I want you even if I shouldn’t, but I can’t be with you. If I give myself to you, I’ll be crushed when you leave. So will Patrick. I need to be strong for him.”

“You are the strongest woman I know. Us being together is not going to change that. It’s not wrong for you—for us—to want something for ourselves. But you are right. I will not make love to you without being able to promise you more than one night. That doesn’t mean I can’t love you in other ways. That doesn’t mean I can’t bring you pleasure.”

He bent closer to her and ran his lips along her cheek before hovering over her luscious mouth.

“Will you let me bring you pleasure, Myka?”

“On one condition?”

His brow shot up in surprise, and she laughed huskily.

“You let me give you pleasure as well.”

He grinned down at her. “I think I can consent to that.”

Need slammed into him hard. Years of longing for her, his mate, rushed his veins like a shot of pure adrenaline. He had to fight the itch of his canines, fangs that were trying to pop through his gums in anticipation of claiming a mate. She’d hate him if he bit her, turned her into what he was, without giving her a choice. He’d never betray her like that. She was everything to him.

He bunched his fingers in her thick hair and tugged her head back before slanting his mouth over hers.

“No regrets.” His words came out in a low growl.

She swallowed hard. “No regrets,” she whispered.

* * * *

Galen’s mouth crashed down on hers, and her knees nearly gave out under the onslaught of emotions that slammed into her, through her, and pulsed in her veins. His masculine scent was intoxicating. She was being pulled under by the strong current and had no desire to fight it. She vaguely noticed that he was guiding her backward as his tongue stroked hers, igniting a fire inside her that she doubted could ever be fully doused.

He was demanding and dominant, took what he wanted, but she was all too willing to give him what he asked for without hesitation. His lips were hard and soft at the same time, and when he pushed her down into a pile of soft hay, he breathed in the whoosh of air from her lungs as she landed in the fluffy heap. The fingers tangled in her hair held her firmly while he explored her with his other hand. He cupped her breast and rubbed his thumb back and forth over her nipple until it hardened into a stiff peak.

He growled low as his tongue continued exploring every secret place in her mouth. She moaned and pushed against his wicked fingers, urging him on. She opened her thighs when he nudged her with his knee, and he wedged his hips between them. She wanted to wrap her legs around his waist, get as close to him as possible, but he was simply too big. That was when she realized that no matter how close they were, even skin to skin, it wouldn’t be close enough. She’d never get enough of him.

He inflamed her, engulfed her, sent her spiraling headlong on a reckless journey of desire and need that clawed to get at him. Somehow she was aware that he was the only one who’d be able to make her feel like this, make her ache and burn with need.

When he broke the kiss, she cried out at the sudden loss of his lips on hers, but pleasure soared in her once again after he pushed her shirt up and sucked one bared nipple into his mouth. She writhed against the hay as he twirled his tongue around the stiffened peak of one, then the other puckered tip. Heat pooled between her thighs, where a dull ache began to throb and pulse in time with each kiss, nip, lick.

She clawed at his shirt until he finally untangled his fingers from her hair and let her pull it over his head. His hot skin was heaven under her fingers. She traced every muscle she could reach along his shoulders and back. There was nothing soft about his body. He was hard contours of ripped steel covered in skin. He was powerful. A man in his prime. He kissed down to her navel and went to work opening the button and zip of her jeans.

He licked around her belly button before blowing playfully on her wet skin. She giggled, then gasped when his hand slid under her jeans and panties and settled over her mound. He growled when his finger glided unhindered through the slickened folds, and her nails dug into his shoulders. He reared up and loomed over her. Hazel eyes shimmered down at her.

Her lungs seemed to forget how to work as he stared at her. When he stroked her clit with his thumb, she moaned low in her throat. She tried to sit up, but he splayed his other hand wide in the middle of her chest, imprisoning her. He stroked her again, and her whole body jerked in response.

“You like that, angel?”

She couldn’t have spoken at that moment even if it meant saving her life, so she nodded. He stroked her again and edged one finger inside her pussy with ease. Her muscles clamped around him, and shivers ran down her spine, straight to her clit.

He growled again.

“You are like hot, wet silk. Do you know what it does to me knowing that I can do this”—he stroked her again, and she moaned—”to you?”

She looked down to see his erection straining against his jeans.

“I think I might have some idea,” she whispered.

He sat up on his knees and pulled her jeans, along with her panties, off her legs. There was little time for her to comprehend what he was doing before she found herself facedown over his thighs.

“Galen!”

“Shh.” He stroked her back before massaging the muscles with his warm hands.

His touch was packed with whimper-inducing pleasure, and when he kneaded the bare cheeks of her ass, she sighed.

“You have the most delectable ass, Myka.”