Isla heard the pop and looked down.
“Anyway,” he said, drawing her eyes back up to his. He leant forwards and tapped a knuckle to her chin. “I know we can be a handful, but I’ve got you. We all do.”
She blinked, a faint blush spreading across her cheeks. “Thank you. That means a lot. I know we’re probably not the sort of team you were expecting, but we—me and the others—we’re trying to make it work.”
Taylor shrugged. “It’s all good. Wendy’s cool. Amil’s still a little frosty, but he’s only threatened to murder me twice today, so I think that means he’s warming up?”
Isla laughed, gripping the bundle of papers to her chest. “Good. He’s an incredibly capable officer when he puts his mind to it. Wendy too, even though they’ve both had it rough.”
Taylor wiggled his eyebrows. “Oh yeah? Care to spill the beans?”
Isla gave him a lopsided smile. “Absolutely not, you nosy sod.”
“There she is.” Taylor chuckled, sticking out his tongue. “I knew there was a feisty side to you.”
Suddenly, a car engine revved outside and the shutters began to open.
“Here we go,” Isla said, tapping her boot heels together. “Meet you inside?”
Taylor nodded, tugging on another pair of gloves. “Yep. I’m all the welcome party they’ll need.”
The summer air whooshed in from behind the shutters, ruffling Taylor’s hair and kicking up dust in the garage. It seemed to take an eternity for the shutters to roll up and the anticipation was fucking killing him.
Scrubbing a hand over his neck, he tried not to think about what had happened in the alley. About how he’d quite literally lost control of his fucking wolf and sunk his fangs right into Johnny’s mating spot.
Again.
In anger.
Again.
He shivered, trying not to acknowledge how good it felt to have Johnny’s hot flesh between his teeth, the taste of it on his tongue. How he’d smelled.
God, his scent had been?—
He still shouldn’t have done it. But Taylor knew why he had. Every time he had a build-up of stress or anger or was about to go into rut it was like his computer virus short-circuited his brain and his wolf took over to find the quickest, easiest way to self-regulate.
Well, his wolf could go fuck itself because it seemed to like to gnawing on Johnny like a chew toy. It was why he’d taken the wolf out for a nice three-day-long run, because it’s easier to lose your shit when no one is watching.
Not that his wolf hadn’t tried to double back multiple times. Fucker.
Johnny deserved better, and every time Taylor tried tobebetter, it felt like something else went wrong.
Still, he couldn’t run away forever. Johnny would want to talk about it eventually, because Johnny justlovedfucking talking about shit, and Taylor had to eat two foot-long subs, threepackets of crisps and a whole family sized bag of peanuts just to mentally prepare himself forthattalk.
He did appreciate having a bacon sandwich thrown in his face, though.
The car rolled in, the old blue and yellow Battenburg all shiny and bright and barely used, and not to be a fucking quitter, Taylor cracked his fingers and strode on down the ramp.
He immediately regretted it.
Oh fuck. What a fucking smell.
He caught Johnny’s gaze through the windscreen. He had a mask on, but Taylor could see the pleading look in his eyes. Taylor began backing away, but then Wendy jumped out of the passenger side and stumbled into the corner of the garage.
“Oh shit,” she said, doubling over and vomiting all over her own boots.
Johnny slowly opened the door and stepped out, all stiff and slow as though he was trying to keep his own guts inside his body. Then the smell really hit. Alcohol and shit.
