“She was ecstatic of course. And I asked her to tell Patrick and Matty. The word should spread from there.”
There would be no use sneaking around anyway, and that wasn’t their goal. They had to let the rest of the clan know about their presence, but it had to be organic. Just two former members of the clan coming back into the community now that Ronan was gone.
“Anyway, she said to come over now.”
“I guess we’ll have to check into our hotel after.” Jacob caught Eli’s eye from the reflection in the mirror. “That good with you two?”
“Yeah, that’s fine,” he said.
“Of course,” Olivia answered.
As Sloane gave Jacob directions to Martha’s house, Eli snuck a glance at Olivia, who stared out the window. She looked even lovelier this morning in a light lavender dress that matched her eyes. The morning had been surprisingly not as awkward as it had been during the drive or even last night. Eli had spent the rest of the night on patrol, with Jacob relieving him sometime after two o’clock in the morning. He was so damned tired that he crashed and didn’t wake up until around seven when Jacob was banging at his door, telling him they were leaving soon.
Soon, they were pulling up to a pale-yellow Cape Cod with green shutters. The driveway had a crack running down the middle where weeds popped up and a birdbath sat slightly tilted in the yard. A wind chime made of seashells hung by the front door, clinking together as the breeze blew by.
Eli had never been to Martha’s house though he had met the sweet old lady a couple of times at Sloane’s aunt’s place. They were walking up the cracked driveway when the front door opened, revealing a small woman with white hair.
“Sloane! Oh Sloane!” Martha Emcott came running down to greet them, enveloping Sloane in a big hug. “It’s really you, I can’t believe it.”
“Martha,” Sloane breathed as she hugged the old woman back just as hard. “Martha, it’s good to see you. I’m sorry I didn’t keep in touch.”
“It’s fine, it’s fine.” Martha pulled back, her eyes wet, and cupped Sloane’s face in both hands. “Your Aunt Ella would be so proud.” She dabbed at her eyes with the sleeve of her cardigan, then spotted Jacob just behind Sloane. “Is this …?”
“Yes. This is Jacob Martin. My True Mate.”
Martha’s hands flew to her mouth. “I still can’t believe it.” Her gaze dropped to Sloane’s stomach, and fresh tears shone in her eyes. “A baby, too.”
Sloane grinned. “Yeah.”
“Ella would have been over the moon.” Martha seized Jacob’s hand in both of hers. “You take care of this girl, you hear me?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Jacob flashed her his most charming smile. “She doesn’t make it easy, but I try.”
Sloane elbowed him, and Martha let out a laugh.
Then the old woman’s gaze drifted past them and landed on Eli, her smile fading. While she didn’t flinch exactly, her grip on Jacob’s hand loosened and her shoulders pulled back just enough that Eli noticed.
“Eli.” Her tone was careful. “We all thought you were dead.”
“I’m not,” he said, managing to keep his voice emotionless. “I’ve been in New York.”
“Working with Jacob, actually,” Sloane added quickly. “For a Lycan security company. We’ll tell you everything, don’t worry.”
Martha’s eyes narrowed, but she gave a small nod.
Eli couldn’t blame her. The last time she’d seen him, he was Garret McCall’s son, running with Ronan’s crew. She had every reason to be cautious.
“And this,” Sloane continued, stepping aside to reveal Olivia, “is Olivia. Eli’s True Mate.”
Sloane shot him a look that saidyou better make this convincing.
Before he could figure out what to do, Olivia’s hand slipped into his. Her fingers were cool and soft. The contact sent a jolt through him that sent his heart slamming into his rib cage, before eventually coming back down to somewhere above his stomach. His wolf, which had been on edge since they crossed into Boston, went completely still. Exhaling, he gripped her fingers tight.
Martha’s expression shifted as she looked between them. Whatever she saw must have been enough, because the wariness in her face eased somewhat. “Well. Isn’t that something.” She reached out and patted Olivia’s arm. “Aren’t you a pretty thing. Welcome, dear.”
“Thank you, Ms. Emcott,” Olivia said warmly. “It’s lovely to meet you.”
“It’s just Martha, dear. Come inside, all of you. I’ll put the kettle on.”
