Steel opened his mouth, and then shut it, narrowing his eyes. “Hey, this is all new to me. I’m still suffering from the shock of seeing the clothes list.”
Jackson laughed again. “I know… right? Anyway, to answer your question, if Logan wants to design our pup’s nursery, it’s fine with me. Did you know he was studying interior design before the massacre?”
“No… is he any good?”
Swatting Steel’s chest, Jackson snapped, “Of course he’s good. He’s my brother so how could he be anything else?”
“Mea culpa,” Steel said, grinning. “Right, why would I even think to ask that?”
“Logan’s amazing. Once we’d built our pack house, Logan designed and decorated the interior. He’s done his bedroom here, as well as some for my brothers. You should check ‘em out.”
“Babe, if you’re okay with Logan doing the nursery, it’s fine with me,” said Steel. “I just wanted to make sure he didn’t pressure you to do it.”
“No,” said Jackson. “His ideas are so amazing; I know you’ll love them.”
“Good. Now we only have the clothes list to do. I’ll run that past my mother and see what she has to say,” said Steel.
“Oh, and one last thing. Logan would like to redesign the great room and dining room so they have more coziness. He said the way they are now makes him feel like he’s in a hotel.”
Thinking for a minute, Steel said, “You know, he’s right. I never felt like this house was a ‘home’ and I want that for the baby. So, tell him to go ahead and have fun.”
Jackson showed his appreciation by attacking Steel’s lips with his own.
Chapter 31
Jimmy watched the shifter gas up his truck and knew the guy was trouble. As he vacillated between alerting Mystia or handling this himself, he sniffed again just to make sure he smelled Silver Point Pack. Yup, the guy belonged to that pack and he would bet anything he was an enforcer. He watched as the guy looked up behind Jimmy’s place to where the Blackwood Pack house stood and that clinched it—this dude was hunting today.
Dylon knew he was being watched but couldn’t spot who it was. He looked up the mountain. Nope, nothing there. He slipped on his sunglasses and then saw Jimmy. Now, why was that old wolf staring at him? And fidgeting—like he might know who Dylon was. He topped off his tank, put the nozzle back, and decided to pay in person instead of at the pump. Maybe the old wolf knew something.
This was an easy assignment Rudy had given him. Dylon was new to the Silver Point Pack and was still learning pack politics. He’d left his old pack soon after he became an enforcer there because his job required shaking down or threatening pack members the Alpha wanted targeted. His parents hadn’t raised him to be a thug; to Dylon, being an enforcer meant keeping the pack safe from outside enemies—not harassing members of the pack who hadn’t committed crimes.
Rudy told him they were tracking a band of brothers who killed his Alpha’s brother and others in the brother’s pack. They found where the killers were hiding but failed to execute them because they’d fled. So, Rudy sent him back here to see if he could pick up the trail. He headed inside to pay for his gas and maybe, if he got lucky, the old wolf would know something. “Hi,” Dylon said as hewalked up to the counter, fishing his wallet from his pocket. “How much do I owe for the gas?”
Jimmy told him and as Dylon handed over the cash, he nonchalantly asked, “Hey, I’m looking for an old friend named Jackson. Do you know him?”
Jimmy pressed a button under the counter before he replied, “Maybe, depends on what his last name is.”
“Well, can I speak plainly here? I know you’re a wolf, as am I, so let me just say Jackson is a member of the Blackwood Pack. Do you know them?”
“Who are you, young man?”
“I’m sorry, I’m Dylon and as I said, Jackson’s an old friend of mine.”
“Is that so?”
Dylon’s eyes narrowed. The old wolf hadn’t given him any information and avoided giving answers to his questions. His gut told him something wasn’t right. He glanced around, his eyes settling on a business license taped to the wall behind the counter. Owner: Jimmy Blackwood.Fuck!Dylon now knew why he felt something was fishy and his eyes narrowed as they swiveled back to Jimmy. “I think you know exactly who I’m looking for, don’t you, Jimmy? Are you going to tell me where he is or do I have to convince you to help me?”
Suddenly, Dylon heard a melodious female voice behind him. “Now why would such a handsome man want to do that to someone clearly not a threat?”
“Mind your own business,” he snarled, turning around. And in a split second, Dylon knew he’d made a big mistake as the witch waved her hands and he felt himself falling, but could not shift. The witch had paralyzed him. Jimmy quickly moved around the counter, caught Dylon,and laid him gently on the floor. The last thing Dylon remembered was thinking how sad his parents would be about his death.
Jimmy looked up at Mystia. “What are you going to do now?”
“I want to talk to him,” Mystia replied.
“Okaaay, about what?”
“You’ll see. Move aside so I can teleport him into your office.”
