Page 52 of Hounded: Ashes to Ashes

“They can’t stay here,” he argued. “It’s not?—”

“Myhouse, Loren.” Sully stabbed the handful of forks she’d pulled out of the drawer at him. “My guests.”

I clambered to my feet. Lasagna aside, being here was doing no favors for Loren’s mood. And I wanted him to be happy—amiable enough to enjoy the delayed welcome home celebration I was currently plotting.

“We’ll go home.” I leaned forward and caught Loren’s hand as the other hounds stood. “But we’ll come back,” I added. “Maybe tomorrow?”

I checked for Loren’s confirmation and found him watching everyone but me. Antsy. He would feel better after a night alone. The energy had been off at home cooped up with Whitney couch surfing and our conversations dramatically one-sided. It seemed like he needed to work out some frustration, and I would gladly sacrifice myself to that cause.

I turned my attention to Dottie and Gunnar. “Do you guys like Little Debbie’s?” I asked.

Gunnar’s frown wrinkled his face all the way to his burred hairline. “Like… snack cakes?” he asked.

I nodded.

He brightened, smiling wide enough to flash his gold-capped canines. “Dude, IloveSwiss Rolls.”

“And I have a box with your name on it,” I replied, then tugged on Loren’s arm. “Ready to go, baby?”

Whitney and the hounds joined Sully in the kitchen as she called to us, “You guys want me to pack you something to go? I made plenty.”

Loren didn’t answer, and I didn’t debate long before deciding, “We’ll grab something on our way. Thanks.”

Speaking of energy, mine was all over the place as we exited the apartment. Loren kept quiet on the walk to the car and after we loaded up with me behind the wheel and him in the passenger seat, leaned over with his arm resting on the open window frame.

There was too much to think about, so I directed my thoughts ahead. Toward home. Toward connection. Rebuilding something that felt damaged: the bond between Loren and me.

He wasn’t always keen to talk, but not everything could be expressed in words. Maybe it was time to stop telling and start showing him exactly how I felt.

Indy

I ate light.

The chicken strip kids meal and cherry limeade sat easy on my stomach, which was fluttering with nerves by the time we made it back to the RV park.

Loren got out of the car first and came around to open my door. This wasn’t a date; he certainly didn’t need to impress me, but he was an old soul, and some behaviors were ingrained.

I hadn’t always known it, but I was an old soul, too, and my heart sang every time he pulled out my chair at a restaurant or carried my bags at the store. Taking care of me in every way he could.

We picked our way across the patio, dodging puddles of dried blood that made me cringe. In the trailer, Loren went to the kitchen to finish putting away the groceries while I grabbed a bucket from under the sink and filled it with hot water. Lugging it outside, I splashed it across the pavers and watched as the black ran gray into the pea gravel. Then I went back for a refill. Rinse and repeat.

With that done, I shuffled inside and kicked off my boots. Loren had finished stocking the cabinets and lingered in the kitchen, sipping from a bottle of San Pellegrino.

I stayed by the door, studying him with a sense of appreciation that had not faded over time. I had romanced this man for a hundred years, but the thought of being close to him still made my knees knock. I craved it, needed it after weeks apart and strained months before that. I wanted to know him physically the way I did mentally, and to put the newfound benefit of memory to use. I wanted to blow his fucking mind.

As if realizing I was staring, Loren turned toward me and raised an inquisitive brow.

My smile wavered as I walked to him and hooked my hands around the back of his neck. A gentle pull guided him to my lips. He could have stopped me. He’d been doing a lot of that lately. Closing me out and shutting me down, but I hoped—Ihoped—he wanted this much as I did.

My eyes fluttered closed as he eased in, softening to my touch and pressing his mouth against mine.

The kiss was sweet, and I savored it as his hands curved around my waist, pinning us chest to chest.

Mate, the voice inside me sang, and I hummed a happy sound.

Sighing, I drew back, pushing Loren’s hair over his shoulders and staring up at him with a dopey grin.

“Hi, baby,” I whispered.

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