Page 15 of Leave Me
“Put me to work,” I offered when we stepped inside, reveling in the air conditioning on my overheated skin.
“Go see if Channing needs help in the main room?”
Nodding, I made my way into the vaulted living room of the King pack house. Channing accepted my help, collecting empty cups and plates, but otherwise, they didn’t need me. So I ended up finding Fowler in a dark corner beside the stairs.
“Hey,” I greeted him, and I noticed his glasses were back on despite being indoors.
Fowler’s drink must have been strong, because I could smell the whiskey when I leaned against the wall beside him. The shifters were the ones with heightened senses. I never got that benefit.
“Hey, Ri,” Fowler replied, and the familiar nickname wrapped around his tongue in a rough voice. So he wasn’t as unaffected by the funeral and his dad’s passing as I’d thought.
“Are you staying for the reunion?” I asked, skipping over the reason we were in the same room again and going straight to what I needed to know. Was he staying longer?
“Wasn’t planning on it.” King shrugged and took a healthy gulp of his drink. “Already saw the guys last night. And now you’re here. Who else is there?”
My heart stuttered at the implication. King saw me, and his pack mates, so now he was done with his visit to Blue Lake? Something in me said it would be unacceptable to let him leave so soon.
“There’s a picnic tomorrow. Super low-key and chill,” I rambled, grasping at what might entice him to stay. “We can catch up.”
“You’ll be there?” King asked, and I nodded, turning my body toward his.
“Yes, I will. I’ve been gone a lot over the past decade as well.”
“Then I’ll think about coming,” King replied with a twitch of his lips, leaning closer to me.
Maybe it was his cologne, but he smelled amazing. Bergamot, sandalwood, and his familiar cherry, but it was deeper, richer. Less floral and more musky, like the tree. It matched his masculine aura, and I got lost in his eyes, breathinghim in.
“You guys coming to the mixer tonight?”
It took me a few blinks and Fowler breaking eye contact for me to realize Ricky and Rel had joined us. Rel had asked the question, but neither of us answered.
“Yeah,” Ricky added, “I’m bartending the first part, and then I can join.”
“I wasn’t sure. Maybe?” I told them, not being a big drinker. Fowler’s brows were drawn together. “King?”
“I could make an appearance,” Fowler started, hesitating. “If I’m not too wiped from this.”
“And last night,” Rel teased with an elbow nudging King. They mentioned getting together the night before, but was it a party? I was confused until he went on, “I noticed you finished all my liquor last night.”
“Hair of the dog did the trick.” He lifted his glass, swallowing the last of his drink.
“Well, I hope to see you there,” Ricky grinned, clapping Fowler on the shoulder and turning to me. “Both of you.”
“Fowler,” Channing called from halfway across the room, and the three men excused themselves to see what she needed help with.
Fowler kept catching my eye until my mom said she was ready to go home, and we caught a ride with Pam. It was too hot to walk in a suit and dress shoes.
After saying goodbye to the Kings, I decided I would go to the mixer. Just in case a certain long-lost son made an appearance.
And if he didn’t, I might need to bake something for an excuse to stop by and drag him to the picnic in the morning.
If he left Blue Lake and I never saw him again?
A sharp pain stabbed through my gut at the thought. At the very least, I knew I’d have a new mental image to get off to.
Chapter eleven
Fowler
