I wanted to touch her. I wanted to tease that small curl of hair that had pulled free of her bun at the nape of her neck, see if it sprung back when stretched. I wanted to hear her suck in a breath as my fingers slid up her spine, ready to pull her hair free. I wanted to collar her throat, feeling her heart beating frantically against my palm, right before her head tilted sideways, revealing her neck to me. I wanted her with a violence, a passion, an intensity, I’d never felt before.
Because no woman had ever touched me.
Not mentally, not emotionally, but also not physically. Some had offered the latter, maybe some of the former, but I could never take them up, not when I knewshewas out there.
“One day,” Ursula had assured me. “One day you’ll see that girl from across a crowded room.” The cliche had me snorting. “One day you’ll see the other half of your heart, and it’ll all make sense.”
She was right, of course. My fingers twitched, the need to touch Imogen and keep my damn hands to myself making the muscles spasm, not sure what to do, so they hung in the space behind her as we peered at the screen.
“You too,” I’d told my sister. All the light went out of her eyes then, a familiar sadness settling over her.
“Maybe…” Her eyes dropped down. “But anyway, what the hell are you going to do when you find your fated mate? She could be anyone.”
I hadn’t had a plan then, and I was still struggling to create one now. Keep her safe, I swore to myself. I answered Imogen’s questions and helped her flick through the different camera views until Kyle approached with the wine.
“Potatoes are boiling and dinner’s got a way to go, so how about a celebratory drink? It might be a little low key as housewarming goes, but at least we brought practical gifts.”
“Thanks.” I watched Imogen accept the glass, then take an experimental sip, her eyes widening as she tasted the white wine.
“Good, right?”
My prompt had her bristling and the bear didn’t care.See me, talk to me, react to me, my heart beat.
“Very good,” she agreed. “So if we’re waiting for dinner, I don’t have a TV yet, so…” A slow grin formed. “I guess we go old school. How about a game of truth or dare?”
“I haven’t played that one before,” Lucas said, joining us in the living area. “How does it go?”
Us all sittingdown around the rickety dining room table apparently.
“So, truth or dare,” Imogen said, surveying us all with a smile.
“Truth,” I replied, even as the others sucked in a breath to answer. It was what was sorely needed, even if we’d have to dance dangerously along the edge of telling her too much.
“What got you guys into working security and helping domestic violence victims?”
That was the most obvious question for her to ask and I had already been formulating responses in my head before she asked it, so I replied quickly.
“It’s something I’ve always been passionate about,” I replied. “I grew up with my family, had a happy home until…” The bear surged up, ready to take out any potential danger, always summoned by these memories, but I’d had plenty of practise in shoving him back down. I showed him the room, the food our mate had prepared, Imogen, and he allowed me to retain control. “Until my parents died. I was too young to identify my family and the relevant authorities didn’t manage to find them until much later, so I went into the foster system.”
Her eyes creased then, a familiar look of empathy on her face, but it was her hand sliding closer that surprised me. Her too by the look of it, because she stopped herself from gripping mine.
“While I don’t think all or even most foster parents do anything other than their best to care for kids in their care, mine… Mine and Ursula’s foster parents left a lot to be desired.” I nodded slowly. “What happened there made me protective of her, her friends, of all women, and when I got older, children too. When I see hurt kids, I…” A quick mouthful of wine, the sour/sweet taste washing over my palate, bringing moisture to a dry surface. “I see us. I don’t want any child to go through what we did, and I’ll do everything I can to ensure that’s the case.”
“Us too.” Kyle smiled at Imogen when he got her attention. “Not the foster care thing, but… My parents fostered Asher so we grew up together, and he sucked us in with his vision.”
“Whatever we can do to make things better.”
Lucas looked too pale as he took a sip of his wine. The job, what I put him through making him my sleuth mate, it took enough out of him to make me reconsider my plan.
But not for long.
This is what I had to do, and I just couldn’t stop, no matter what obstacles life put in my way. So I turned to Imogen and asked her the same question she’d asked me.
“Truth or dare?”
“Definitely truth.” The faint flush in her cheeks was… interesting. “I don’t know you guys well enough yet to let you dare me. Maybe you’ll have me walking around the kitchen pretending to be a chicken.”
“What did you want to be when you grew up?” Kyle asked smoothly, robbing me of my turn. “Was it working in a supermarket?”