Page 20 of Hide My Heart
“It’s huge and it’s black.” He rubs his hands together and grabs a plate. “Took me longer ’cause I had to keep the paws and ears. Ought to fetch a big load of dough.”
“What are you going to do the rest of the afternoon?” I ask all casual-like, as I put on a pair of blue nitrile gloves.
“Celebrate you coming back.” He grabs a hank of my long hair and jerks me over. He slathers a gross kiss on my lips and pats my behind, then pushes me away. “Hurry and finish up.”
The air deflates from my lungs, and I nod like I’m obeying him. “I might be out of practice. You sure you want me touching that wolf?”
“Do the wolf last.” He grabs a beer from the fridge and spears a piece of the tasty beaver, swirling it in the gravy. “I went through a lot of trouble finding you, so you better not mess up.”
“How did you find me?”
He takes a swig of the beer and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m a hunter.”
In order not to have him suspect me. I caress his shoulder and give it a squeeze. “I’m glad to be back. I was just so sad after the procedure. I didn’t know what to do.”
“I want you on the Pill,” he says. “Go to the bathroom and take one before you go to the garage.”
“Okay.”
The key to dealing with Hunter is to be obedient. He believes I’m an idiot, so if he thinks I’m listening to him, he lets down his guard.
I need to use the toilet anyway, and when I finish, I rummage around the messy bathroom, finding the birth control pills supplied by the clinic.
I also find Hunter’s pants on the floor where he left them when he changed into his skinning overalls.
The truck keys are still inside.
Bingo.
And, what is this? A cell phone?
Hunter has entered the twenty-first century.
Hooray.
I turn it on, but there’s no signal.
I pocket both items and throw a towel over his pants. I know what he’s up to. He’s going to get good and full, drink a lot of beer, and then he’s going to want to sleep with me.
No way.
I pop out of the bathroom and head for the garage, but Hunter blocks the way. His lips curl up with a half-cocked grin and a pointed, focused glare.
“Come to Papa,” he said. “The pelts can wait.”
TWELVE
Nate
Mom leaves me alone andgoes to cook supper, thinking I’m shaving and getting ready for church. How wrong she is.
First of all, I never shave in winter. I like my fur-covered face. It keeps the icicles off my cheeks and gives me something to worry when I’m thinking.
Like now.
What clues did Amber leave?
She was living in California, and somehow her grandmother found out she worked at The Brewed Force. I turn over the coaster stained with rings of coffee.
