Page 3 of Soul Deep
Chapter Three
Back in the cabin that Christian had begun transforming, both as a way to combat boredom – there really wasn’t much to do here in Malsum Pass – and because he really couldn’t abide living without the creature comforts to which he’d grown accustomed, he shook his head and released a happy chuckle as he pounded home another nail. The look on her face… Priceless. Denying her the opportunity to control the conversation as she usually did; the chance to decide when and how it ended, was a pure joy. Even if he had wanted to prolong the meeting, he’d forced himself to cut it short and leave her wondering. One thing his journey to sobriety had taught him: while denying himself may feel like torture, he could and would survive.
Like booze, Lily Oremun had become another addiction. This one, though, he had no desire to quit. With her bristly personality and man-hater attitude, she was usually the type of female he avoided like the plague, but there was just something about her that kept drawing him. Obviously, she was gorgeous, but it was something more… something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Maybe it was the challenge she presented, like this cabin, something to occupy his thoughts, something to fix, and reshape – smooth the rough edges… Christian frowned at the thought. No, that wasn’t it. He actually liked her rough edges, and there was certainly nothing about her that needed fixing. Most of the time, she amused him with her snarky comments and the snap of fire behind those brilliant green eyes.
Maybe it was that she was so different from every female he knew. She lived in a cabin only a little bit better than what this place had been, and as far as he could tell, she liked it that way, whereas all of the females he’d ever been around would have been appalled at such base accommodations; would have turned up their noses in adamant refusal, indignant that staying in such a place had even been suggested. Lily also seemed to have no problem going it alone. Here she was, amidst a bunch of wolves, in a territory that wasn’t her own, but which she insisted on protecting with a ferocity he usually only witnessed in a female when one of her children was in danger. And man, could that female bring the pain. That willowy body of hers was deceiving, for within, there lived a juggernaut. Christian had watched her spar with some of the male wolves more than once. By keeping to the trees and out of her line of sight, as well as downwind of wolf noses, he was able to silently observe her. The power, the determination, and the skill… She was fierce – a force to be reckoned with – and that totally turned him on. Why was she here instead of with her own kind? Lily was a puzzle, and one he definitely wanted to solve, multiple times.
Pounding in the last nail in the row with a satisfying bang, Christian stepped back and surveyed his surroundings with a sense of accomplishment. When he’d first viewed this cabin that his brother had called home for so many years, he’d been shocked, even horrified. Talk about roughing it. The one room shack would have seemed sparse for someone in the early twentieth century, possibly even the nineteenth, much less the twenty-first. There had been no electricity, no plumbing, no furniture, and aside from a CB radio on a rickety shelf, no appliances or electronics of any kind. His brother had actually gone years of hunting and gathering for his daily food and cooking it over a fire, bathing in an ice cold stream, and you know the old saying about does a bear shit in the woods? Well, yes, as a matter of fact… He shuddered at the thought.
So while Christian agreed that Malsum Pass might be as restorative for him as it had been for his brother, he certainly wasn’t into the whole roughing it by getting back to nature lifestyle that his brother had found therapeutic. Much better to enjoy quiet contemplation in relative comfort, and the first order of business had been to transform that one room shack into something a bit more hospitable. To that end, and with the town council’s assistance, Christian now had a three room cabin with electricity, a bathroom with actual plumbing – who would have ever guessed that he’d be so excited about a toilet? – And a kitchen with appliances to store and cook all of hisstore-boughtfood – yeah, he was so not the hunter-gathering type. He also had a nice big comfy bed with fluffy pillows to lay his head, rather than a sleeping bag on the floor like his brother had made do with.
Thinking of that bed, Christian yawned and stretched until his back cracked loudly in the quiet space. Shower, snack, and then into bed for a bit of a read before sleep. Quite a difference for him. It wasn’t all that long ago that this time in the evening would see him getting ready to go out – the start of the night rather than the conclusion of the day. A little Jack – okay, a lot of Jack – maybe a bump or two (or ten) to get the blood pumping, loud music pulsing like a heartbeat, scantily clad women ready to serve up any vice his little heart desired…
Feeling the itch take hold just under his skin, Christian brutally choked off that train of thought and opened the door to the cabin to let in some air. A deep inhale, and a shuddering exhale as he gripped the new wood of the doorframe to steady himself. He was an addict. He would always be an addict. But right now, he was at the wheel, not the hooch, not the blow, him. He was in control and he could do this.
A soft breeze caressed his face, almost in encouragement, and a familiar scent tickled his nose as it brought a smile to his face and smoothed his worried brow. Lily was out there, on patrol, probably tracking every movement with those phenomenal eyes of hers. He could readily picture her, that sleekly muscled panther body, low to the ground, stalking the night and ready to pounce at the slightest hint of danger.
He wanted to join her but he knew she wouldn’t appreciate the company. She wouldn’t see it as a friendly offer of assistance, and companionship to while away the lonely hours, but rather him questioning her ability. She would be convinced that he didn’t think she could handle herself, when that was far from the truth. He knew that she was perfectly capable of doing anything she set her mind to, but telling her the real reason why he continued to seek her out was out of the question. She would probably laugh in his face if she ever knew just how fascinated he was with her, how much he admired her, and how she drew something inside of him, as if they were connected by an invisible tether. She was a balm to his soul… Christian swiped a hand hard over his face and rolled his eyes. God, how disgustingly maudlin. Usually people got all sentimental and weepy when they were drunk, but oh no, not him. Nope, his brain went all hearts and roses when he was stone cold sober apparently.
Shaking his head in disgust, Christian stepped back and firmly closed the door. He’d stick with his original plan: shower off the work of the day, make himself a snack of tortillas and salsa, and then bury himself in bed with some Neil Gaiman to keep him company until he fell asleep and dreamed of a cat with blonde hair and bright green eyes.
