CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Dried leaves are a bitch to get out of curly hair. Alaric and I strolled out of the maze in the late afternoon, both of us wearing grins as we picked crumbled brown leaves out of my hair. Our breath puffed white in the air, but damn, we had made that maze steam.
Alaric came to a halt, his pleased grin falling from his features as he eyed the white-haired shifter leaning against a tree close to our house. With brown eyebrows puckered, Alaric let his hands drop from my hair. “Jonathan? What are you doing here?”
Jonathan sighed, long and suffering. “Waiting fucking forever for you two to finish.”
Alaric wrapped his arm around my waist while we walked toward the man. “We were busy. What do you need?” He paused, his eyes narrowing. “Is Theron in trouble?”
“I wouldn’t be here if he were in trouble,” Jonathan mumbled. He stepped closer to us, pulling his CA jacket tighter around his torso to fight off the growing bite in the air. “He told me to stop by. As you know, my group’s been tasked to help you find Mr. Valentine. We’ve taken pictures of shifters that we didn’t immediately know who were in the area—and surrounding areas. Theron wants your mate to look at them first since she’s more than likely the last person to come into direct contact with him.”
“Ah.” Alaric nodded and then gazed down into my eyes. “Do you want to rest first? I can make us lunch while you take a short nap.”
Jonathan snorted, but peered off to the side, allowing us a semblance of privacy—even though he had more than likely heard exactly how exuberant we had been in the maze.
My lips pinched. Dammit, I was exhausted.
I may be immortal, but Alaric wasgood.
I coughed as my cheeks flushed, keeping my voice whisper soft, “Actually, I wouldn’t mind a nap.”
Jonathan scowled at whatever he was looking at.
Alaric flicked an annoyed glare in his direction, daring him to argue with his word over his own mate. When the man didn’t comment, Alaric shooed me toward the house. He stated gently, “I’ll wake you up when lunch is ready.”
I blew a kiss at him, my cheeks still flushed. Then I turned around and walked into the house. Sleep was needed to keep up with my shifter.
* * *
Alaric placed a plate of fried chicken and mashed potatoes, the goodies piled high, on my lap where I sat in the den, the room reminiscent of a hunting lodge, all dark colors and dark wooden furniture. It was masculine to the extreme. And extremely cozy. We were ready to talk now after I had lit a fire in the fireplace.
I tucked my feet under my legs, my thick wool socks keeping my feet nice and warm. “Thank you.”
Alaric winked and sat across from me, placing his booted feet up on the wood-planked coffee table between us. “We’ve already eaten, beauty. So go ahead.”
Jonathan stared at my plate. “She’s going to eat all that? That’s more than a shifter eats.”
My cheeks flamed red, but I growled, “I have a very healthy appetite. And I like to eat.”
His eyes dipped to my flat stomach. “Good genes, I guess.”
“Or working every fucking day on a boat since I was fifteen years old—sick or not,” I growled. “So don’t be rude. It’s not nice.”
His brows lifted. “You’ll have to excuse me. I’m not around women much anymore. I’ve forgotten their delicate constitutions.”
My eyes widened in shocked fury. “Are you shitting—”
Alaric held up a stopping hand in my direction. “He didn’t mean to be rude, beauty. He was being honest. It’s been many years since he started working for Theron.”
“And I still am.” Jonathan sat back on the couch next to me. “I don’t plan to stop anytime soon, either. I love my work too much.”
“You might try to get out a little more,” I said as delicately as I could, reining in my anger. I scooped up a bite of mashed potatoes. “What do you do for him?”
“Protection, occasionally. But I mostly kill people.”
I choked on my food, coughing hard around it. My watering eyes turned to my husband, assessing him for verification that I was sitting next to an assassin.
Alaric merely nodded.
