Page 105 of Resisted

“The counter in front of the pot is an extension of the actual pot,” I pointed out.

She snorted. “Yeah, the coffeepot is free to use.”

I couldn’t help but give her a look of disgust. It had nothing to do with her and everything to do with the fact that Boyce’s naked body parts were near my fucking counters. “I might need to just demolish the whole place.”

“That’s a solid possibility.” She gave my bicep a kiss. “Last night was fun.”

Fun. She was kidding, right? My whole body quivered at the thought of it. “Astronomical is the word you’re actually searching for.”

She sighed dreamily. “It was definitely out of this world.”

“Please tell me that was the first time you ever did that thing with your tongue to a single person, because the other options are not acceptable.” I kissed the crown of her head.

“Um, it was definitely the first time.” Fucking liar. I wouldn’t dwell too much on it, though, because I did not want to know the details. She cleared her throat. “You’re worried.”

Was it that obvious? “I’m about as fun as a senior on his deathbed. I always seem worried.”

“You don’t seem worried, Vincent. You are.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. It was slightly uncomfortable being called out for feelings that I’d thought I was hiding well. “It’s just…” I sighed. “Everything seems so perfect right now, and I fucking like the simplicity of it all, the perfect harmony, the absolute alignment of fate.”

“But?” Her big eyes looked at me with concern, and I fucking hated being on the end of that gaze filled with worry.

“But what if information about your family, legit information, comes to light?”

“You think I’d leave you three?”

“I, well, I…” Shit. This feelings shit was not my thing. “I don’t know what I think. You’ve wanted them for so damn long, baby. I never would want to take that from you, but there is the fear that maybe if the time came and you had to pick, it would not be in our favor.”

Fuck. Feelings. I hated talking about how I felt. I would rather snipe a fly from a hundred feet away than talk about anything internal. Hand me a knife right now, and I would carve out my eye instead of repeating a single thing I just told her. But instead of questioning it, she threw her head back and laughed, the sound so rich and hearty that it both tugged at my insides and made me want to hide behind a damn wall to shield myself from her.

“You three are my family.”

Technically, yes. We were mated. “Yes, but—”

“No, Vincent, you don’t understand. There is no other family. It’s just you three, and I am happy with that. You. Are. Mine.”

“But—”

“But are you going to get naked and run with me, or sit there like a sad little pup?”

She issued the taunt before taking a step back, staring me directly in the eye, and pulling her shirt over her head. She never took her eyes away from me as she let it fall to the planks of the deck. Then her fingers went to her shorts, stilling there for a moment too long before she pushed them past her hips until gravity took them to the floor. I was frozen, looking at the perfect statue of my very own goddess.

She took a step back, then another, the sway of her hips a damn tease before she turned and ran, willing me to chase her. I did. Clothes be damn, I didn’t need them. They were replaceable, but a solo run in our woods, with my mate, was fucking priceless. I watched as her wolf took over and her delicate futures morphed into a snowy white beauty before I let my wolf come out to play. He pushed forward effortlessly, already anticipating the chase. He lived for it. Craved it. Demanded it.

And me? It wasn’t the chase that had fire running through my veins. It wasn’t the adrenaline of the catch, either. It was knowing that for the rest of my life, fate had given me this gift, trusted me with a second chance, and it was my job to do anything in my power to not let fates down. I wouldn’t. I promised the fates, and I promised it to myself. Fate had issued me the ultimate dare—take care of Bella for as long as I lived.

Well, I’m always willing to suffer, and I never lose a dare.

Epilogue

BELLA

I hated the closing shift.Despised it really. My boys hated it too. It didn’t matter what they were doing, at least one of them dropped it to pick me up. I didn’t need to be picked up, I could drive well enough on my own, but they would rather come back later to get my car than risk me breaking down for a single second in the dark.

Overprotective much?

Absolutely. But Silas argued it was how you treated your mate, Boyce said he never went to sleep early anyway, and Vincent…well, all he said was it was his job. His job was to hunt poachers, not babysit his mate.

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