Page 46 of Banished From the Pack

“If it’s not the dinner, or that I checked the traps alone, then is it my hair?” I guess, running my fingers through the beautiful purple strands, the color of spiderwort flowers. “Because even if you don’t, I still love it, and I’m keeping it.”

I peer up at Warrick from under my lashes, hoping he won’t say otherwise because if he does, I think I’ll have to change it back. He told me to do it, though, so I hope that’s not it. Living with these men is so confusing. In the swamp, all I cared about was whether we had food to eat and if Mama was in a stable mood, which was seldom, or worked up, which was not. But even that is simple compared to trying to figure out what’s wrong with the three grumpy, silent oafs sitting before me.

After dinner, Callan and Ethan start to clean the kitchen while Warrick disappears outside like he does whenever he’s in a mood.

“Can I help?” I say, picking up my bowl and taking it to the sink.

“Nope,” Callan says, plucking it from my hand and placing it in the sink.

The two men move around me like I’m a tree growing in the kitchen.

“I’m going out to have a beer on the front porch,” I pronounce, the same way they usually do after dinner. “Come out if you want to join me.”

No conversation ensues once I’m outside. Unlike most nights, they don’t squabble or bicker, joke or play loud music. I wonder if it’s because of what happened last night—whatever I did wrong that made Callan dash away to the shower like he was on fire. Maybe he told his brothers what I did wrong, and now they’re all upset. Even though I don’t know what I did, I know this new strangeness is because of me. When I arrived, everything was messy, but they were happy.

I brought this tension into their home. Worse, I don’t understand how I did it or what to do about it.

I’m still thinking about it when I finish my beer and head inside, since no one came to join me. Callan is in the shower again. Since getting the showerhead fixed, these men are making up for lost time with the showers. I have to take one during the day when they’re out because it seems like one of them is always in the shower lately.

I crawl into bed, and in the uneasy stillness of the typically raucous household, I close my eyes and will them to be happy again.

In the morning, I wake to the roar of motorcycle engines. I roll from the rumpled sheets, my heart hammering, afraid there will be another vampire fight. But when I run to the window, it’s just Callan and Warrick on their bikes, ready to head off somewhere.

Callan’s head swivels toward me, and for a second, our eyes lock. The same warm shivers I felt when he dyed my hair churn in my belly, but before I can even raise a hand to wave, they’re gone in a cloud of dust and gravel.

My heart falters with the stinging ants of loneliness. A lump of emotion chokes my throat, blocking my breath. I pull on one of the new shirts Warrick bought me and pad to the kitchen on bare feet.

“Good morning,” I say to Ethan, who sits at the table with a cup of coffee. I stop in the doorway to yawn and stretch my arms above my head. When I recover, Ethan’s eyes are lingering on my body, and another fluttery feeling rolls through me.

“Morning, pup,” he says in his growly before-breakfast voice.

“How’s your neck healing up?”

“What? This?” He points to the stitched-up gash on his neck. “Nothing whiskey and painkillers won’t cure.”

I head to the cold box they call a fridge and snag a piece of rabbit sitting in last night’s congealed sauce. I pluck the juicy meat out with my fingers and pop it in my mouth. Ethan watches my mouth with hunger evident in his gaze.

“You want some?” I ask, plucking up another piece and holding it up.

“Hell yeah, I want some of that.” He angles his chair away from the table, extends one of his long legs, and pats his jeans-clad thigh. His torso is bare, as usual. “Bring that bowl of rabbit over here, and we’ll eat it together.”

“You’re not mad at me anymore?”

“We weren’t mad at you, pup.” His lips roll between his teeth as he pats his thigh again. “It’s just an adjustment, having a sexy little thing like you under the same roof as us.”

I’m about to ask what that means, but when I reach the table, he grabs my hips, pivots me sideways, and pulls me onto his legs.

A yelp of surprise escapes my lips, but I melt a little when my arm connects with his warm skin.

He takes the bowl, sets it on the table, and picks up a morsel of rabbit. Instead of eating it, he holds it out for me. He pops the meat inside my mouth, leaving his fingers for a second so I have to curl my tongue around the meat and tug it free.

He lets out a little growl and then opens his mouth. I fish a piece from the bowl and slip it between his lips, my heart hammering hard for some reason. His teeth close around my fingers, and a wicked-looking smile appears.

“Oh!” I say in surprise, tugging at my hand. He seizes my wrist to hold it in place, and a look of mischief flashes on his face as he sucks on my fingers.

I close my eyes at the sensation of his hot, slippery tongue curling around my fingers. He lets out a low moan, and the vibration rolls through my fingers, up my arm, and down my body, settling in that achy pressure in my low belly. Something hard stirs under my bottom the same way it did when Callan was behind me. I slowly slide my finger free of Ethan’s mouth and open my eyes. A smile curves my lips as I regard him. Maybe he won’t run away like Callan did.

“Now that we’re alone, I gotta ask,” he says. “What did you and Callan do after I passed out the other night? Because whatever it was, it’s got him all tied up in knots.”