The image of Remy doing that to himself brought another rush of tears to her eyes. “What made you stop drinking?”
He turned his head to look at her, his mouth edging up at the corners. “Gage Dixon, the commander of the SWAT Team in Dallas and the alpha of my pack of alphas. He’d spent years tracking down werewolves who fit the mold of what he was looking for in a SWAT officer and found me. Between trying to get myself killed in the Marshals and drinking myself to death, I wasn’t exactly the poster child for the Dallas PD, but Gage wanted me on the team anyway.”
Remy had said the commander of the team was also the alpha of his pack—she assumed that meant he was the one in charge—which made her wonder how many werewolves beside Remy and his friends were in Dallas SWAT. But that was a question she could ask later. Right then, she was more interested in other things.
“What did Gage say to convince you to leave the Marshals and join SWAT?” she asked quietly.
Remy let out a short laugh. “It wasn’t what he said—at least right away. It was what he did.”
“What did he do?”
“He sat down on a barstool beside me and took away my last bottle of whiskey. I told him to go away and leave me alone, and when he didn’t, I got pissed and took a swing at him. One thing led to another, and we ended up getting in a fight and destroying the bar. There wasn’t a chair, table, or bottle that didn’t get smashed to hell by the time we were done.” Remy shook his head. “I’m not too proud to say that he kicked my ass. Then afterward, he told me something that forced me to take a step back and realize what a dumb-ass I’d been.”
“What’s that?”
“He asked me a simple question. If Jess had lived instead of me, would I want her to kill herself? His words were like a punch in the gut because if things were reversed, I knew it was the last thing I’d want. I also knew it was the last thing Jess would want.”
Sighing, Remy got up and walked over to stand near the railing. He gazed out at the water for a long time, saying nothing. Triana knew she should probably give him some space, but her mother’s words about fighting for him echoed in her head. How did one battle a ghost, though? Taking a deep breath, she stood and went over to stand beside him.
Remy turned away from the railing to look at her, his eyes wet with unshed tears. The sight made her heart ache. The wind coming off the water whipped at her hair, and he reached out to gently push it back from her face.
“I’m sorry about what I said at the restaurant the other night,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I never meant to hurt you.”
She gave him a small smile. “It’s okay. You may have moved on, but your heart stayed with a woman who died. I understand now why you can’t fall in love.”
He shook his head, his expression suddenly earnest. “That’s not it. Yes, I was in love before, but that’s not why I pushed you away. I was afraid if I got involved with you, let myself fall for you, the same thing that happened to Jess would happen to you. When Lee kidnapped you in the same warehouse we raided, I told myself I’d been right.”
Triana cupped his face in her hand. “That wasn’t your fault, Remy. I would have ended up going to that warehouse to track down my father’s killer whether we ran into each other at that club the other night or not. You weren’t the reason I went there, and you certainly weren’t the reason Quinn grabbed me. If anything, I’m alive right now because we did run into each other. You saved my life, Remy.”
“I know that now. Since Jess died, I’ve kept every woman at arm’s length until you. I told myself I was doing it to protect them, but I was really protecting myself. I didn’t want to go through that kind of pain again.” Remy’s mouth curved. “But while I cared deeply for Jess, what I have with you is different, Triana. More intense. When I saw you on the dance floor that first night here, it was like I found a part of my soul I didn’t even know was missing. I know this is going to sound crazy, but I feel so connected to you that sometimes I experience things you’re feeling, both physical and emotional. When you cut your finger the other night, I felt it. When Quinn knocked you unconscious in the warehouse, I felt it. When you were terrified Lee was going to kill your mother, I felt it. Last night, I felt your confusion and despair when you were upstairs with your mother. When you’re in a room, I can feel you nearby. It’s like you’re a part of me.”
Triana’s pulse skipped a beat. “I can feel you, too.”
He looked at her in surprise. “You can?”
She nodded. “Uh-huh. At Lee’s house, I could feel you in the hallway outside the living room; then later at Mom’s place, I could feel you downstairs. And when you walked into the shop tonight, I knew it was you before I even turned around. This must be what Mom meant when she told me about The One.”
“She told you about that? What did she say?”
“That every werewolf has one soul mate out there who can love and accept them for what they are,” she said.
Remy took her hands in his. “Can you love me…knowing what I am?”
Triana smiled up at him, tears of happiness filling her eyes this time. “I already do, Remy. I think I loved you from the moment I turned around and saw you on that dance floor. Discovering you’re a werewolf kind of shocked me, I admit, but it doesn’t change the way I feel about you. Nothing could do that.”
It had taken her all night and most of the day to come to that conclusion, but underneath the claws and fangs, he was still the guy she’d crushed on all through high school, the guy she was in love with now.
He grinned, letting out a sigh of relief. “You wouldn’t believe how good it is to hear you say those words. Even though I’m terrified of putting you in danger by loving you, I can’t stop the way I feel. I love you, Triana. I think I have since freshman year of high school.”
Cupping her face in his hand, he bent his head and kissed her. Triana glided her hands up the front of his shirt, one gripping his shoulder while the other found its way into his hair. Remy wrapped his free arm around her, pulling her tightly against him and making her wish they’d gone somewhere more private to have this conversation than a very public park. Then she remembered his hotel was only a short walk from the park.
She was about to remind Remy of that when he stumbled against her, almost making her fall. He lifted his head with a growl, his eyes flashing yellow as the tips of his upper canines extended.
“What the hell?” he muttered.
The sight of his fangs almost made her pull away, but she resisted the urge. She wasn’t doing that to Remy ever again.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
