Page 36 of Fae Devoted
He shook his head, teeth clenched. “It’s an old scar.”
“Do you know when it happened? Or how?”
“Not when.”
“But you can guess how?”
“Yeah,” he said with resignation. “I have an idea why it didn’t heal, but it’s not a conversation we should get into here.” It wasn’t a conversation Tucker ever wanted to have with Jo anywhere, but he may not be able to avoid it much longer.
“Okay, you can explain your theory when we have more time. I need to return to Stephen before he loses interest and asks someone else to be his plus-one.”
Tucker snorted. No chance of that happening.
“I wish you would have told me this sooner. The uniqueness of a shifter with scarring on his face will make finding him so much easier. I’m not happy that Jeremiah was hurt, and I’m gonna be pissed if it turns out it wasn’t a freak accident, but how many shifters can there be like him?” She grinned, enthusiasm returning in force. “My guess is exactly one.”
Jo rose to the balls of her feet and kissed him on the chin. “We’re going to find your brother before he turns feral, Jacob. Everything is going to be fine. You’ll see.”
Her confidence was unshakeable, but she didn’t know about the existence of a Elven Lord and his connection to Jeremiah. “I haven’t told you everything.”
“Yet. You haven’t told me everythingyet.” She untangled their fingers and patted him on the chest. “But you will.”
“Jo—” His throat closed, her faith in him humbling. He didn’t deserve this female, but he was going to keep her anyway. Somehow.
“I better go.” She turned and tugged on the handle. Tucker held it shut. “Jacob, open the door.”
“Be at the truck in thirty minutes.”
“I’ll need at least sixty.”
He heard a smile in her voice, and his eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“I need to tell Stephen goodbye, for one.” She tugged on the handle again. “Unless he’s one of the legendary battle witches everyone whispers about, which I doubt, we don’t have to worry about him smelling you on me.”
“And the other reason?”
“I have to buy a dress for tonight. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure there aren’t any shifters in the store before going in.”
“Thirty. We both need to get some shut-eye.” He’d sleep on the floor.
“Forty-five? I am a little tired.”
A little?Jo was dead on her feet. They both were. However much Jo pretended otherwise, he knew she only dozed in the truck.
“The party doesn’t start until midnight.” She looked at her watch. “That’ll still give me time to catch a couple of hours sleep before meeting Stephen. And if I wanna make the most of my feminine wiles, I shouldn’t look like a walking corpse.”
“Wiles?” Tucker chuckled.
“Hey.” She elbowed him in the stomach. “I have wiles.”
“You do,” he agreed, wrapping his arm around her waist and resting his chin on her head. “Super-secret feminine ones.”
“And don’t you forget it.” Jo stepped into his embrace, leaning her weight against him.
“I won’t.” He scrubbed the scruff on his jaw across her hair, marking his skin with her scent before opening the door and letting her go. “I won’t.”
Chapter 11
Within the firstfive minutes of meeting Stephen Anderson in the casino for theirdate, Johnnie learned he was an Anwyll guardian for a town in Indiana. A mayor of sorts who settled minor disputes between the Colony’s locals and assigned mentors to apprentices in the witch community. By the time they exited the elevators on the top floor of the Rivière, Johnnie knew Stephen’s middle name was Walter, he jogged eight miles every day, rain or shine, and loved chicken piccata. His favorite movie wasAll About Eve, and his labradoodle, Dog—dee-oh-gee—was a social media sensation.
