His eyes took me in, lingering on my wet hair, and his pupils dilated. But instead of jumping me, he handed me two large white takeout bags. “I brought you dinner. I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I ordered a couple things.”
Jaxson’s voice was deep and husky, which only ratcheted up my inexplicable, animalistic desires. My cheeks blazed, and I broke my gaze from his. The aromas of whatever was inside the takeout bags had my mouth watering.
To be fair, the man had my mouth watering, too, and it was hard to tell the difference. I was really hungry. I leaned on the door, unsure what to do. “Thanks. Have you eaten? Do you…want to come in?”
His eyes flicked to my chip-covered bed, then back to mine. “No, I have to get ready. But I’ll be next door for a couple hours. The zenith of the moon should be around twelve-forty-five tonight, and I’ll head down to the shore.”
“Are you sure I can’t come?”
“You cannot come.”
“Why? Do you soak yourself in wine and dance around naked? Hold a pagan orgy? Sing love songs to coax down the moon?” I twisted my hair.
A sly grin spread across his face. “And which of those would you be hoping to see?”
I blushed. My mouth had a tendency to run sometimes. “The singing, of course.”
He sniffed and leaned in close. “I can tell when you’re lying. I think I know exactly what you would like to see.”
Searing heat rushed through my body—which, of course, he could also smell. I swung the door shut, but he stopped it with his hand. “I’ll return soon. There will be a dozen wolves guarding the motel—Regina, Billy, Tony, a whole crew. If anything seems out of the ordinary, go to them. They’ll keep you safe.”
Great. I really was in werewolf witness protection. My nail beds itched at the thought, and I rolled my eyes out of habit, but in light of how things had gone recently, I was prepared to accept the situation. For now.
Jaxson pulled his handgun out and handed it to me, butt first. “Just in case.”
It was a silver Glock 17 with gorgeous decorative etching that was cool to the touch. This was the kind of protection I liked—men handing me firearms.
I gave him a sultry smile for that. “Thanks. Good luck tonight, Jaxson.”
“One more thing.” His hand caught the door again as I was shutting it. “Do not scry again. Not without me there.”
He locked me with his dark eyes, and I felt his alpha voodoo wash over me. I straightened my spine and fought it, but Jaxson had enough on his mind already, so I nodded.
“I promise.” Probably. I didn’t need his permission to scry.
He tensed. “I’m serious, Savannah. Don’t do it.”
I knew it was irrational after what had just happened, but the sharp and commanding tone of his voice only made me want to refuse. Then again, I was starving and needed this conversation to be over before my takeout got cold. “Fine. I promise I won’t scry again tonight.”
Satisfied, he turned and left.
Shaking my head, I shut the door and secured the deadbolt, then peeked inside the bags. Mushroom and truffle ravioli, steak tartare, and lemon-roasted chicken breast. Where had he even gotten this out here? I knew there were some fancy tourist restaurants in the area, but damn, Jaxson had nailed it.
I tore off the lids of all three and dug into them, totally prepared for the food coma that would follow. I didn’t have a funky werewolf-only moon ritual to attend. Each bite was tastier than the last, and I groaned as my stomach filled.
Ten minutes later, I unbuttoned my shorts and leaned back against the headboard, eying the empty containers at the foot of my bed. I was hungrier than I’d thought. Exhausted from the day and the meal, I closed my eyes and drifted off.
I woke to the buzzing of my phone. Groggy and sore, I glanced at the clock on the side table—twelve-thirty a.m. I’d been out for a couple of hours. I found three texts on my phone from Casey, and silently cursed.
The first had come at ten-forty: Hey cuz. I need status reports. I need to know if some freaky monster is drinking you like a cheap bag of wine.
An hour later: It’s almost midnight. You okay? Why aren’t you answering?
The latest: If you don’t answer in five, I’m calling in the troops.
Which either meant he was going to call the cops or the sorcerers. I wasn’t sure which was worse.
Damn it, Casey.