“If that fucker wasn’t dead, I’d fly back to LA and kill him,” I tell my mates in a voice shaking with fury.
There’s not much they can say to that, so we stew in a heavy silence until we pull up outside a sprawling house. It’s perched on the edge of a picturesque lake, surrounded by thick trees that grow right down to the water. I can’t tell if the house is Gothic revival or Idaho chic, with the setting sun painting the exterior in shades of purple, black, and rust. I catch a glimpse of turretsand bay windows surrounded by decorative trim, and then we’ve mounted the wraparound porch, and Tristan is ushering me inside. The house smells of fresh paint and pack, and I take a shuddering breath. The bones of the house are old, but it has a welcoming vibe, and I shoot Otley a grateful glance. If I’m going to enter my meltdown era, this seems like as good a place as any.
“You need food and a shower,” he tells me, opening the door to a bathroom off the entryway. It’s small but tastefully decorated, and he nods at my wrecked reflection in the mirror. “Freshen up, and then we can give you a proper tour.”
I’m more interested in exploring the house we just left, but I pinch my lips together and start peeling off my clothes. Tristan stays to help while Otley goes to sort things with the security guys, and I pull my mate into my arms as soon as we’re alone. I give him a long, lingering kiss, soaking up the comfort that only he can give me. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. This is a crummy way to say hello after so long apart.”
“It tastes pretty good to me,” he murmurs, licking his lips with a soft smile. “And if that kiss was crumbs, I can’t wait to gorge myself on the whole cake.”
“God, me too,” I groan, pushing his collar aside and biting gently on his mating mark. Just seeing my teeth on his perfect skin gives me a jolt of possessive satisfaction. I might have fucked up a lot of things, but taking Tris as my mate was a stroke of genius. Of course, Ot had to hit him with his car first, but it’s the way the story ends that matters. “Are you okay? Is the campaign going well?”
I’m not across the details, except that I knew they were interested in Idaho because of the rustic locations.Well, the locations and the fact that Lily and Leo live here.I’m tempted to go find Otley for more ofthosedetails, but Tris gives me a firm look and steers me towards the shower. “I’m fine, and my jobis the last thing you need to worry about. Wash off the trip and then come eat.”
“You’re not showering with me?”
I must sound forlorn, because Tris bites his lip. “You look ready to drop, babe. Let’s save the cake until after you’ve eaten.”
I grumble at his smirk, but accept his logic when my thighs cramp and my knees nearly give way. Sitting on the wooden bench, I have the fastest washdown in history, and then drag on the clothes Tris dug out of my luggage. They smell a little of Alaska and homesickness, but I grit my teeth and rush out to find the others. They’re sitting at a large, gleaming table next to the kitchen counter and I collapse into a chair, wolfing down the sandwich in front of me. I barely taste it, my eyes fixed on my mates until Otley gives me an amused nod. “Okay, I’m clean and fed.” I push my plate away and look between them. “Now tell me everything you know.”
Tris begins, recounting how he stumbled on Rosie’s Blooms when he was scouting for locations. He fell in love with the farm at first sight, and didn’t connect the dots to Lily until he recognized Leo.Because he looks so much like me.I groan, but it’s a good feeling, knowing a little part of me has been with Lily all these years.
Otley picks up the story by giving a little more background, which can mostly be summed up as using all his contacts and influence to scope the town, confirm Lily’s identity, and then relocate our pack to Knotty Falls as fast as possible.
“I came so close,” I tell them, my hands gripping the arms of my chair. “I really was only a few towns away, but I was searching for a farm, not a place like Rosie’s Blooms…”
“You were looking for a cross between a prison and an abattoir,” Tristan muses and I give a rough laugh, because that’s exactly how I’d described some of the places I’d searched. I should have squeezed Crest for the truth, instead of believing allhis bullshit. “It’s horrible it took so long to find them, but you did everything you could,” Tristan tells me, and I pull him onto my lap, burying my face in his hair.
“Tell me more about them,” I murmur, closing my eyes and breathing him in. “Anything. I don’t care how small.”
They spend the next hour filling me in on what they’ve discovered over the last few days. I don’t hide my frustration that I wasn’t here to experience it first hand, but it just means I’m more determined than ever to make up for lost time.
“So, Leo’s an artist,” I declare, when Otley tells me about a drawing he saw in the farm store. It was of a horse, as regal as Shadowfax by the sound of it, and Tristan smiles indulgently at the awe in my voice. “Like you,” I murmur, giving into temptation and stealing a kiss off his smirking lips.
“He’s definitely got talent,” Otley confirms, before giving me another of his careful looks. “Although, right now he’s more interested in playing soldier.”
“You mean because of the manly father figure living next door?” I quip, but I can’t help the hint of jealousy in my voice. “Are they close? I mean, they must be, since they’re getting bonded.” The word catches in my throat, and I rub a hand over my face. “Fuck. This is such a mess.”
Instead of disagreeing, Otley steers the conversation back to Leo. When he mentions the tiny saddle he saw in the barn, I perk up. One of my greatest childhood pleasures was riding my horses along Summerland Beach. “He has a horse?”
Otley shakes his head. “Not anymore. Lily said it died recently, and Leo took it badly.”
Pain pierces my chest, imagining the heartbreak he suffered if his connection to horses is anything like mine. It’s silly, since right now the only thing I share with him is my genetics, but it doesn’t stop me from reaching for my phone. I ignore all the missed calls and angry texts from my agent and the studio,scrolling through my contacts until I find the name I’m looking for. I wait impatiently until a gruff voice answers, relieved I don’t have to waste time on small talk. “Zander? It’s Ellis. I need you to get me the best horse breeder in Idaho.”
There’s a fraction of a pause, and then my old riding teacher gives a heavy huff. “This better not be for some movie malarky.”
“No, it’s for my son. Leo.”
It’s the first time I’ve said it to someone outside the pack, and the bittersweetness of the moment makes me rub my chest. I wait for Zander to pepper me with questions, but instead I hear a scraping sound and the jingle of keys. “Where in Idaho?”
“Um. We’re in Knotty Falls.” I have to massage my brain now, trying to remember the route we took from the airport. “It’s a small town near Rockford, at the eastern end of Snake River.”
“I’ll find it.”
I blink. Zander Reece retired ten years ago and doesn’t leave his ranch for anything. “You’re coming here?”
“I’ll handle this in person.” I’m pretty sure I can hear him stuffing his feet into boots and the thud of his front door. “I’m not letting some bozo put your son on the back of a mismatched horse.”
Zander’s a firm believer that there are no bad horses, only poor matches between mount and rider. “Okay. Thanks, Zander.”
