Page 19 of The Gamma's Second Chance

But it feels like more. And each day is harder to get through. The friendlier I am towards Nolan, the more he pushes me away. And the more he pushes me away, the friendlier I become. It’s avicious cycle, a back-and-forth we seem to have found ourselves caught in, one that irks me to no end, but I face it all with a smile.

It’s Saturday afternoon now, and we’re in Crescent Lake for the rest of the day after escorting Haven to the optional Saturday morning class she never misses, and I’m convinced Nolan is actively avoiding being in my presence. He’s out on a run, his second one of the day. The first two days, he only ran in the morning. But the last three days, he’s gone on a run first thing in the morning and then as soon as we arrive back at the pack. So now the only time we spend together is the car ride to and from the city with Haven and the ten minutes he sits at the table to inhale his dinner.

At least he sits at the table now.

It’s quiet when he’s gone, but somehow it’s less quiet than when he’s here. When he’s here, it’s eerie, tense, and unnatural. When he’s gone, I can breathe. I can relax.

I open the window in my bedroom to let in the fresh mountain air and the scents of the forest and the lake as I finally work on unpacking my clothes. It’s seeming less and less likely that I’ll be offered a guest room in the packhouse at this point. And, as much as I hate to admit it, it is more convenient to stay with Nolan since we’re working together. I only wish I could get through to him. I wish I could see more glimpses of him. His personality. What he hides under that grumpy, surly exterior.

I saw a sliver of it the other night when he teased me about my romance novel, and then a few days later when he handed me a new copy of the book, a sheepish look on his face as he apologized for writing in it. But since then, he’s been back to his closed-off, silent, brooding self.

Which I find… intriguing. Sexy. He thinks his indifference will push me away, keep me out. But all it does is draw me in. Like a spider weaving a web to catch the unsuspecting insect flyingpast. Only, he’s trying to keep me out, and I’m anything but unsuspecting.

As I empty my luggage and organize my belongings in the guest room, my mind wanders. It wanders all the way back to almost five years ago. To their visit to the island. And Nolan in those white linen pants.

Much as he does now, he paid little attention to me then. Which made it easier to pay attention to him since he didn’t realize I was checking him out. The starlight of the new moon night reflected off his bronze skin. His muscles rippled, his body tense as he paced and waited for his alpha and luna to return from the temple. His brow furrowed with his concern for them, sharpening the lines of his handsome face and highlighting the unique hazel of his eyes.

And now I see those muscles at least twice a day when he heads out and returns from his runs dressed only in gym shorts that sit low on his hips, exactly like those linen pants did. His muscles are just as chiseled now as they were then—maybe even more so—and his washboard abs and the V cut disappearing into his shorts taunt my eyes every time I see him shirtless. My fingers itch to trace over them and further down to where those delicious lines are no longer visible.

Goddess, I want to know how they feel. I want to caress every glorious inch of him with my hands and follow each caress with a kiss from my lips or the swipe of my tongue. I want to travel down his body, touching, kissing, and licking until I’m kneeling in front of him. My palms would rest on his thighs, and I’d tug on his waistband with my teeth until his cock bounced free. His head would roll back, and his throat would bob, his hands gripping the edge of the counter as I swirled my tongue around the tip of his penis before taking all of him into my mouth and—

The front door slams open. “Nolan?!” A female’s voice rings out through the house, and my heart leaps into my chest. “Nolie, are you home?”

Oh fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. This must be her. The female the ring is for. The one I’ve thought about countless times but have been too afraid to bring up again. My hands shake and sweat, and I wipe them on my plaid dress after I shut the still-open dresser drawer I leaned against while caught up in my daydream. With heated cheeks, I exit the bedroom, steeling myself to meet Nolan’s woman after I was just fantasizing about him.

I follow the sounds of her footsteps to the kitchen, where she stands on the other side of the counter, unloading bags of groceries, unaware of my presence. Her dark brown hair is straight and sleek with a slight reddish tint to it, with a sharp, straight nose and flawless ivory skin, and she somehow makes unpacking groceries look elegant.

A feat I could only dream of accomplishing.

“Nolie, I know you’re not in town any—Oh!” She starts as her gaze lands on me in the archway of the dining room, and I give her an awkward wave and a self-conscious smile.

“Hello.” I take a tentative step towards the kitchen. “I’m guessing Nolan didn’t mention he had a houseguest?”

She scoffs. “Of course he didn’t. That boy would forget I existed if I didn’t bring him his groceries once a week.” Her head shakes as she sighs and continues removing the groceries from the reusable fabric bags. “The things us mothers do for our sons that go unthanked…”

I blink at her. “Mother?”

“Oh Goddess, I am sorry,” she says, skirting around the counter, hand held out to me and a smile on her face. “I’m Fiona Shepard. Nolan’s mom.” Her eyes crinkle around the edges as she smiles at me, and up close, I can make out the hint of the finelines on her face near her mouth and between her brows. And I can see that her eyes are the same shade of hazel as Nolan’s.

Herson.

Our hands clasp, and a wave of relieved surprise floods through me, my body relaxing. “I’m Cassandra. I came to Crescent Lake to help Luna Haven, and since guest rooms are limited and I’m kind of Nolan’s work partner for the time being, Alpha Wesley asked Nolan to let me stay here.”

I gloss over the truth of the situation. There’s no need to share with her how Nolan didn’t have much say in the matter, that he didn’t want me to stay here at all, that Wesley all but commanded him to host me in his home. There’s no reason to tell her he’s been less than welcoming. We’re not preschoolers, and I’m not a little girl whose pigtails he pulled.

She nods and her lips press together, and I know she can see right through my lies. Like all moms can. I don’t know if they go through some kind of special training or if it’s a skill given to them upon reaching motherhood, but I’ve yet to meet a mother who can’t tell a truth from a lie.

“Nolan went for a run,” I say before she can say anything or call me out on my untruth. “I’m not sure when he’ll be back. His runs have been getting longer, so…”

“That’s fine. I don’t need to see him, even though it’s been a while since he’s paid his father and me a visit. But don’t worry, I will be out of your hair in no time, and it will be as though I was never here. The groceries will be the only evidence I leave behind.”

I grin at her as she meanders back over to the groceries and continues her sorting of them, following her into the kitchen and grabbing a bag as well. “I can help.”

“No, you’re a guest,” she says, yanking the bag away from me.

“It’s really not a problem,” I chuckle, reaching for it again. “It’s the least I can do since—”

She pushes it across the counter and out of my reach. “Sweetheart. Just let me take care of you and my son.”

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