Chpt. 9 APOV:
"So what did you think of our little town?" Christian asks.
"Little is right," I laugh.
"I told you it wasn't very big."
"I wasn't expecting it to be so small, but it's cute-plus it had everything we needed."
"I know there wasn't much of a selection for clothes for you," he apologizes.
"It's fine, I'm not picky. I just needed a couple things, definitely not everything you bought for me."
He refused to let me pay for anything today; my clothes, the rub from Gail's store, lunch at a small outdoor café, was all paid for by Christian. Because I had planned on paying for my own clothes, I only picked out two pairs of pants and two tops. He wouldn't hear of it though, insisting I get triple the amount and then insisting he pay for it all.
"Well, this way you'll have a few things," he squeezes my hand.
Things have been… different between us since we got back to the cabin last night. Though I suppose they changed while we were still at Taylor's. Christian's been touching me, in small ways, all day. But if I'm being honest, I've been touching him nearly as much. There's something that just draws me to him. As if I need to have him close, to touch him. It took forever last night to fall asleep; I kept thinking about him, the way it felt when he kissed me, when he held me against his chest and the way he looked at me as if no one else was around.
It doesn't make any sense–I shouldn't feel this way about him, especially since technically I'm still married. I never loved Tony, and even though he said those three words to me, I know he never really loved me either. Maybe that's why I don't feel guilty that Christian kissed me, or that I kissed him?
"You okay?" he pulls me from my thoughts. "Has today been too much? Do you need to take a nap?"
"No, I'm fine. Maybe we could sit outside for a little while?"
"I'll get you settled on the porch and then bring us out some water."
He quickly lifts me out of the SUV, carrying me to swing where he gently puts me down. Without seeming to give it a second thought, he quickly kisses me on the lips before heading back to the car to carry in the bags from today. I immediately feel a loss when he's not near me. I've never felt like I've needed someone before, even before Tony. At first I thought that it was just because Christian made me feel safe, but now I think it's beyond that. Although when we first went into town I kept look over my shoulder for him, after a little while I stopped. Not only did I trust Christian to keep me safe, but I didn't feel the need to worry.
Now, I just want Christian near me… just because. There's no rationale reason for it, but it's like something inside of me feels at ease when he's near. And it completely disappears when he touches me. I've never felt so… at ease, so relaxed, before.
"You sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine, just enjoying the peacefulness," I gesture in front of us to the open space with the mountains in the distance. I know it has nothing to do with the scenery, but I don't know how else to explain why I feel the way I do all of a sudden.
"Did you always live in a city? Before you moved to Vegas, I mean?"
"Vegas was the only real city I lived in, but before that… I guess it was considered more of a suburb. I think one or two of the foster homes I lived in were in a city, but mostly they were suburbs. I've never lived in the country before, not like this where people aren't constantly on top of you. Where you can sit and watch the sunset from your front porch."
"When you're better, there are some amazing hiking trails I think you'd enjoy. They have some of the best views in all of Wyoming."
"I'd like that."
"Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"How did you end up in foster care? I mean… what happened to your parents?"
"Oh–"
"You don't have to answer that, I'm sorry. It's none of my–"
"I'm practically living with you, so it is your business," I interrupt quickly. "The truth is I don't know much. From what I was told, my father's name was never listed on my birth certificate and from what the state said, no one knew who he was. My mother was a bank teller and was killed during a robbery when I was three years old. I don't remember much about her."
"Ana, I'm sorry."
"Apparently she had some family, so it took a while for them to all be tracked down. By the time I was eligible for adoption, I was older and most couples looking to adopt wanted someone younger."
"How come her family didn't take you in?"
"I don't know. I've never reached out to them–if they didn't want me then…"
"Their loss, Ana."
"I spoke with a neighbor once, someone who used to watch me when my mom was at work. She said my mom was estranged from her family–they disowned her because of my father was. But, my mother never told her anything more about him, just that her family disowned her because of who he was."
"I… I can't imagine."
"Things aren't like they are here," I say remembering him telling me how his parents took Taylor in when his own parents passed away.
"I know that," he sighs. "I mean, we see enough of it with our clients at work, but hearing it… from you…"
"It wasn't horrible," I assure him. "I know people always picture foster care as this horrible, dark place, but really for the most part it wasn't. Sure I lived with a few people who only did it for the paycheck, but there were others that genuinely seemed to care.
His thumb is gently gliding across my hand, our fingers intertwined–though I can't say for certain when that even happened. We both don't say anything for several long minutes, but once again it's not an uncomfortable silence.
"What was it like growing up… here… I mean as a…"
"Shifter," he provides the word. "I don't know that it's really any different from how most kids grow up. I mean, of course there are some differences. For one, we hide this big secret from everyone outside of our pack. But the importance of keeping that secret is ingrained in us almost from day one, so it doesn't really seem like a big deal to most of us.
"I think the biggest thing was just living here. This is the part that is probably the most different from the other kids we went to school with. I think most of their parents, and probably the community, think this is some type of a religious compound or something. Most kids would probably complain about not being able to have their friends over after school to hang out, but for us our friends were here. It's not a large pack, but we're really close so I think that makes up for things."
"Your parents… they were both born here?" It's fascinating to me how this all works.
"My dad was, he's lived here his entire life. If he were an outside, he never would have been able to become the alpha. Well, maybe he could have but a LOT would have had to happen for that to occur. My mother was born in a different pack."
"So how did they meet?"
"Packs usually make it a point to visit other packs and they will typically bring along any young adults or teenagers. This allows us to meet others who are like us, but ones we didn't necessarily grow up with. Plus, it keeps the kids busy when the adults are catching up with each other or discussing concerns. They met when my mother's pack came here for a visit; she moved here a couple weeks later."
"That quick?"
Who am I to talk? I moved in with Tony—
"They said they just knew they were it for one another; they've been married for over 30 years."
"Wow… that's amazing."
"It's getting late, I have some work I'd like to get done before bed," he says after a few moments of silence. "Did you want to take a bath before you go to bed? It might help your muscles if they're sore from going in and out of the chair so much today."
"That would be nice."
It's less awkward this time, when Christian helps me into the jetted tub. Just before he walks out, I have a sudden urge to ask him to join me, but I quickly dispel the idea and remain quiet. Kissing him yesterday at Taylor's must still be wreaking havoc on my thoughts. I shouldn't be thinking of him like this. I shouldn't want him in here with me, with his arms wrapped around me, holding me close to him.
"Let me know when you're done," he says some time later. I can't tell you how long I've been sitting here, thinking about him, but the water has cooled down. "I have everything ready for you."
"I'm finished," I quickly soap up and then grab the towel to loosely cover myself with.
"I figure we'll do this like last time… well minus banging my ankle on the jet," he chuckles but I can feel my face heating up at the reminder of what happened after… that kiss…
"Anyway," his heated gaze finds mine and I wonder if he was remembering the same thing? "I have towels on the bed with your pajamas that you left out. I thought I could put the rub on that Gail gave you; she had said it would work best if it was applied at night."
"Sounds good."
He carefully lifts me out of the tub, this time making sure not to hit the jet in the process. Like last time, he has several dried towels ready for me on his bed. He waits outside of the bedroom door while I quickly dry off as best as I can and slip on the pajamas. I remove the wet towels from the bed, placing them on the floor since the my wheelchair is folded up in the corner of the room which means I can't get to the hamper on my own.
I can't wait to be a little more independent. I'm not used to having to rely on someone for so much… or have someone that I can rely on.
"Ana?"
"You can come in, I'm—"
The moment the door opens, he freezes and stares at me. I can't figure out what he's thinking, as his eyes give nothing away. He's just sort of looking at me… but it seems more than that.
"Christian?"
"Christian?"
"Christian?"
"Uh… sorry," he mumbles and shakes his head. It's only then that I realize he was probably talking to… his wolf. God, that sounds so weird to say.
"Everything okay?"
"Yeah… let's get the rub on you," he quickly grabs the tub that we picked up at Gail's store and sits next to me on the bed. Suddenly though he looks uncomfortable, like maybe he doesn't want to do this? Maybe he isn't comfortable with the bruises?
"I can do it if you don't want to…"
"No, it's fine," he shakes his head again. "Why don't you lay on your stomach, I'll do your back first."
It's awkward, but with his help, I roll onto my back. He asks my permission before lifting my shirt to the middle of my back. The gasp from him confirms that the bruises are still as bad as they feel. His touch is gentle, cautious even, as he slowly works the rub into my skin. He's careful not to apply too much pressure, like Gail warned him when she explained how the rub would work. The gentle messaging of my muscles is almost enough to put me to sleep, especially when combined with the rough sleep I had last night.
"Is this okay?" he quietly asks.
"Hmmmm," I mumble.
"You going to fall asleep, Ana?"
"Maybe…"
A soft… growl immediately has me looking back at him. His gaze meets mine and there's so much in it, but yet again I can't figure out what it is.
"What?" he asks.
"You… growled."
"No…"
"Uh, yeah you did."
"Sorry."
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why did he do that?"
"It's nothing," he shakes his head and goes to get up but I quickly grab his hand to stop him.
I awkwardly roll into my side, so I can face him instead of looking back. He sits back on the bed next to me.
"He… he likes you here," Christian whispers.
"Here…?"
"In our bed."
"Oh."
"When you… he was picturing… nevermind."
"Oh!" my face heats up at the idea of that.
"No! I mean… that wasn't what he was thinking," he blushes.
"What was he thinking?"
"Of you sleeping here… with us."
"He liked that?"
"From the first time he saw you in here."
"Do you…?"
"Yeah…" his answer is barely above a whisper but it's there.
"Oh."
"I—"
"We—"
We both laugh as we start talking at the same time. Any awkwardness is instantly gone; I thought it might be odd to talk about his wolf as if he were another person, but it really wasn't.
"What were you going to say?" I ask.
"I was going to suggest we finish putting this on your ribs and the few spots on your legs… then if you wanted to you could… I mean, there's a TV in here if you wanted to…"
"Oh… thanks."
Is he suggesting I stay in here tonight? Or did he only recommend it because it's easier than carrying me back downstairs to the living room? That must be it, he probably doesn't want to bring me back up and down the stairs.
I shake my head slightly, ignoring his questioning look and lay on my back. I could probably do this part myself, but with limited use of my wrist it would be challenging. Christian again asks before lifting my shirt, keeping it low enough to cover my chest but high enough for him reach all the bruises on my side. Having him this close though immediately reminds me of what happened in Taylor's bathroom last night.
Christian's eyes don't leave mine as he slowly massages the rub into the bruises; I don't know if he's watching for my reaction or something more. Somehow, he knows exactly where the bruises are even if he's not looking there. Something changes in his gaze and without asking him I know what it is… it's his wolf. It's odd, but it feels like they're both looking at me, but instead of feeling self-conscious I feel… wanted.
With his gaze never leaving mine, he slowly leans down, I know giving me any chance to stop things before they even start. What he doesn't know is that I have no intention of stopping things, that I want this just as much as he… they do.
I gently tug him down, until he fully climbs onto the bed so he's lying next to me. I go to move over, to offer him more space, but he stops me, instead pulling me closer to him. A moan escapes me when his tongue glides across my lips and I immediately open to him. The kiss isn't slow and cautious like the first one was, instead this one picks up wear last night ends. Judging by the hardness against my shorts, I'm not the only thinking that either.
"Baby," he groans against my lips.
"Christian," I whisper.
"We should stop."
"Oh," I start to pull back but his hold is firm on me not letting me.
"I didn't mean it like that," he lifts my chin so I reluctantly look at him.
"It's fine—"
"I think you'd be able to tell that's not what I meant," with a gentle nudge he presses against me. "You're still hurt, I… it would kill me if I hurt you."
"It's—"
"Don't tell me it's fine," he growls. " .you. Don't think otherwise. It's taking everything in me to wait, but I can't hurt you… I won't hurt you, Ana."
"I know."
His fingers toy with the waistband of my shorts and even though I know stopping is the right thing to do, it doesn't stop me from wanting him. I can't remember ever feeling so overcome with need as I do right now. It's not just the physical attraction… it's something more than that.
"Do you have anywhere else you need me to put this on?" he asks. "Gail said to be sure to get all the bruises, but I don't know where they all are."
"There's one here," I gently move the hand that was at my waist lower, under the shorts to the bruise that goes from my hip to my upper thigh.
"I'll take care of it," he leans in and kisses me again, his eyes still filled with hunger, before sitting back up. He slowly lowers the waist of my shorts, and gasps. Initially I assume it's because of the bruise but when he doesn't move I glance up.
"Christian?"
"Christian?"
"What… what is that?" he gestures to the mark next to the bruise.
"It's just a birth mark, it wasn't caused by—"
"A birthmark? You've had it…"
"Forever," I shrug not understanding what the issue is.
"You're sure?"
"Yeah… why? What's the big deal?"
"I… I… I gotta go," and with that he runs from the room.