Corey snorts behind us. “Honestly, man,I’m shocked you survived dating.”
Jakob laughs, and I glance back as he adjusts her backpack over his shoulder.
“I had cheekbones and a working oven,” I say. “Never underestimate the power of pastry.”
Claire giggles, and I’ve become embarrassingly obsessed with the sound. Three days in a cabin with her and her heat, and I’m now completely smitten by everything she does.
I slow half a step, letting her move ahead of me.
Bad idea.
My hoodie she’s wearing swallows her frame, the hem brushing her thighs in her leggings, the sleeves pushed up past her wrists. Her hips sway with every careful step, a soft, unthinking rhythm that has me staring too closely. I’m inches from reaching out and holding on to her, but she insisted she can descend from the cabin on her own. Except, she has no idea what she looks like in my clothes, flushed from the walk, hair catching the sunlight.
Mineis all I can think.
Not in the casual, cocky way I’ve thought it before. It’s deeper than that now. Worse. Three days of having her tucked under my arms, asleep against my chest, laughing into my shoulder, trusting us when her body dragged her under.
Mine to protect, to feed, to claim and mark.
Claire glances back over her shoulder. “Why’d you go so quiet?”
“Admiring the view.”
She turns back toward the valley opening through the trees. “It’s beautiful.”
Corey makes a choking sound behind us.
Jakob says nothing, which means he is absolutely enjoying this.
I move to Claire’s side as the path widens. “The valley’s nice too.”
Color rushes into her cheeks, and fuck me, but I’m gone. My cock throbs, reminding me of how sore it is. I didn’t know that was a thing, yet I’d fuck her right now if she gave me the signal.
By the time the trail breaks out of the trees, the world opens up even more into a long descending field of wild grass and low stone walls, the parking area a small dark shape in the distance. The sky has changed while we’ve been under the canopy, the blue bruising at the edges, clouds gathering thick over the ridgeline. A storm is coming.
Claire glances up at it, then keeps walking. Corey moves on her left as the path widens, close enough that their arms brush now and then, and every time it happens, the corner of his mouth lifts as if he’s won something. Jakob falls into step on my right.
For years, I told myself the pack was enough as it was. Me, Corey, Jakob. We were solid and loyal. But there had always been space around the edges, and now, for the first time, that hollow is fading.
“What about you?” Claire says, glancing at Jakob over her shoulder. “Most memorable pickup line you used?”
He pushes a blond curl off his forehead. “I once walked up to a woman at a rugby social and told her she had front-row energy.”
“What does that even mean?” she asks.
“Yeah,” Jakob explains, then barks a laugh. “She had a similar reaction. Then she found it funny and walked away.”
I slap his shoulder, chuckling.
“What about you, Claire?” Corey butts in. “What have you used on men because mine are seriously embarrassing and never worked.”
Claire’s gaze lifts to the darkening sky. “Hmm, it’s been a while, but I once told a guy I had very strong wrists and could prove it.”
Corey nearly misses a step. “That worked, right? Tell me that worked. Lie if you have to.”
“I was talking about whisking meringue.”
Jakob hums. “Sure, sure.”
