Cat's Howl: A Macconwood Pack Novel (The Macconwood Pack Series Book 2) (9 page)

The round log walls were rustic and masculine, but the soft
ivory furniture and the colorful throw rug made it warm and inviting. A Native
American tapestry hung on one wall

She listened to the sound of Tate’s efficient movements as
he moved about the kitchen which was just off the living room. It was a really
great room. Central to the floor plan. You could see and hear just about
everything from there.

She heard a popping sound and was surprised to see him come
back with two stemless wine glasses and an expensive looking bottle of red wine.
He handed her one of the half full glasses.

“Here, this will warm you up.”

“Thanks,” she accepted and was mortified at the pitch of her
voice. Suddenly she was all throaty and sexy, like some late night DJ?
Uh
oh.
She cleared her throat and took a sip.

“So, um, did you contact Rafe yet?”

“The Manor is on lockdown, but I managed to get him a
message before they shut off communications.”

“Hm. Did he reply?”

“No,” he watched her form under his long, dark eyelashes and
she was struck again by the sheer beauty of the man in front of her.
No, you
are not a kid anymore. No more stupid teen crushes.
But no matter how many
times she repeated that in her head she couldn’t stop her heart from beating a
little bit faster as he sat down on the edge of the couch just next to her.

She took another long sip from her glass and tried her best
to ignore the six-foot three-inch man next to her. The wine was a dark red, the
bouquet bold and the flavor rich, just the way she liked it. She smiled with
her eyes closed and tilted her head back on the couch.
Nothing like a little
forced vacation
, she thought as she sipped again.

Tate went stone still as he watched that sexy little smile
play on Cat’s oh so tempting lips. She was just an arm’s length away, her
blonde head resting on his couch as she sat sipping his wine. The Wolf in him
wanted to thump his chest and howl that he was a good provider, but the
twenty-first century man remained immobile.

A trace of red liquid stained her lips and Tate had to stop
himself from leaning over and licking them clean. He felt his Wolf stir within.
The full moon was close. He would know that regardless of whether Cat was near.
It just made it all the more difficult to control his baser instincts.

He turned away just as she opened her ice blue eyes. The
color reminded him of who she was, a Maccon. Out of his reach.
Too good for the
likes of you, boy,
his father’s voice echoed in his brain. He ground his
teeth together and she sat up.

“What’s wrong?,” Cat was confused. She thought for sure they
would be safe now, but there he was anxious and riled up. He stood and stalked back
to the kitchen with long angry steps.

“Are you hungry?,” his question was curt, but she took no
offense. She understood all to well that Werewolves were cranky when they were hungry.

“Yeah. I could eat. Want some protein bars? I have a box in
my backpack.”

“Nah. We can do better than that. Take a look around if you
want, I’ll be back in a bit,” he headed outside without his coat and shoes. Cat
wanted to call after him, but she knew he needed neither. Tate was an excellent
hunter.

True to his word he returned less than half an hour later
with a pair of plump rabbits. He cleaned and skinned them both within minutes.
The meat was fresh and smelled marvelous as he basted them in small bits of
dried garlic, thyme, parsley, and a can of petite diced tomatoes.

He added a glass of the dark red wine they were drinking and
set the cast iron Dutch oven to simmer on the stove. Cat watched him as he
cooked. He moved with the skill of a practiced chef. Grace and confidence in
every nuance of movement.

She grew up with Werewolves. She was one herself, but no one
had ever moved with the powerful beauty of the man in front of her. She
wondered what he’d say if she called him beautiful. He’d probably scoff at her,
but it was the truth. Her heart beat harder in her chest.

“Hungry? It’ll be done soon,” he set a small egg timer to
twenty minutes and nodded at her glass before refilling it.

“I didn’t know you cooked,” Cat was mortified at her blasé
statement, but she needed to try and calm the beating inside her chest.

“Well, there’s a lot about me you don’t know.”

“Yeah, right. Like what?”

“Like this cabin, you didn’t know I built it. I also like to
cook. I read non-fiction and biographies. And I weave.”

“Weave? Like what?
Hair?
,” Cat nearly choked on her
wine as she pictured him in a beauty salon.
LOL.

“No, you dope,
tapestries
. I met a woman, a Werewolf,
when I was about twenty, she was older than she looked. A hundred and five she
said. She was attending a Lenape Pow-wow at the Salem County Fairgrounds,
anyway she, uh, taught me some things. One of them was how to weave.”

“I bet she did. So what did she look like?,” Cat hurt a
little to hear the whimsy in his voice, but she couldn’t begrudge him the past.
She had no hold on him whatsoever. She bit down her jealousy and asked her
question with genuine curiosity.

“She was short, for a Werewolf. Long black hair that she
kept in braids and she had dark brown eyes like mine,” Tate didn’t see the pain
his words inflicted on Cat.

The polar opposite of me
, she thought to herself. Cat
wiped her face and controlled the sob that was dying to come out.
After all
these years.

Oblivious to her feelings, Tate walked past the fireplace to
a closed door. He opened it and motioned her inside. Cat followed.

“Wow,” she was surprised to see he was not kidding. There
was a large wooden loom in the center of the small, well lit room. On it was an
almost finished rug.

“The colors. These are the colors of the Maccon crest. Gold,
blue, white, and black.”

“Yes. The colors of the Macconwood Pack. I thought it
fitting.”

“It’s beautiful,” Cat’s voice was soft and reverent. She had
never seen anything like it. And to think he made it with his bare hands.

She reached out tentatively to touch the unfinished cloth,
but she pulled her hand back at the last minute.
Fool.
She had no
business touching his things.

“I’m sorry,” she began.

“No, it’s okay, go ahead. I’m glad you like it,” Tate reached
for her hand and gently tugged till she was touching the soft dyed wool. She smiled
up at him, her heart in her eyes.

She looked at their joined hands and she couldn’t help, but
stare. His skin was darker than hers, but smooth and beautiful. Cat liked how
they looked against each other. Light complimenting dark and vice versa.

She moved to pull away only to find herself caught in his
long fingers. When she looked up it was straight into his black eyes. He held
hers for a moment before turning to stare at their joined hands.

“Your skin is pale as milk and just as soft,” his voice
sounded rough, but it was hypnotizing all the same.

“Yours is darker, like bronze, and your skin is smooth,” she
moved closer to him without meaning too. Their bodies seemed to bend towards
each other.
Another step, just one more inch…

At the exact moment that they would have touched, the kitchen
timer went off.

“That’s the food,” Tate let go of Cat’s hand as if it were
on fire.

He couldn’t believe himself! What the heck was he doing
anyway?
Leave it alone, Tate. You’re no damned good for her.
He wanted
to put his fist through the wall.

Maybe he could if he was amped up enough. But he doubted it.
These were solid pine logs. He’d probably just damage them and his hands in the
process. He was a Werewolf, not a wrecking ball.
Best check on the food and
get your hormones in check, pal!

Cat almost shouted after him. She didn’t care about food
right then. Heck, she just wanted to touch him. All of him. But she kept her
mouth shut. She let him leave the room.

She dropped her head forward and put her hands on her knees.
Her hair hung all the way over as she felt the blood rush to her face. She took
a deep breath and shook her head. When she straightened again she exhaled
slowly and tried to get her head together.
You have goals, remember? Wolf Guard.
Maybe even sheriff some day. Get your mind out of the gutter and just do your
damn job.

After her little pep talk, she listened to the sounds of
Tate moving around in the kitchen. There sure was nothing sexier than a man who
could cook. Cat sighed. She was hopeless.

Oh well, down the hatch.
She chugged the rest of her
wine. If she was going to make it through the night without throwing herself at
him,
again,
then she supposed she could do with a little liquid courage.

However brief the sensations of intoxication were for
Werewolves, the burning of the alcohol in her throat kept her mind off the man
in the other room. She could almost see her blonde Wolf in her mind’s eye rolling
her blue eyes at that statement.

In truth, Cat was aware that the beast inside of her had
claimed Tate years ago. Maybe even before that horrible night when he had
rejected her.
That was then
. She swore her Wolf spoke to her again. But
that wasn’t possible. It wasn’t the full moon yet.

The sound of a lid slamming onto the floor and a muffled
curse turned Cat’s attention to the kitchen.

“Do you need an extra set of hands in there?”

“Nah, I’m good,”
Yeah, I could use your hands, I’ve got a
couple of choice places for them too. Crap! Knock it off, Tate!
He repeated
it over and over in his head. The only thing was, he didn’t want to.

Cat looked so good, and she smelled even better. Like honey
and lemon and fresh air. He wanted to bury his nose inside every inch of her and
just inhale. He wondered if she tasted as good as she smelled.

“Shit!,” he grabbed the dishrag and ran towards the sink. Did
he really just set it on fire? He turned the faucet on and closed his eyes when
he heard her voice.
Goddammit, Tate, just cook the food!

“Is that fire?,” Cat came into the kitchen sniffing the air
and almost laughed when she saw the burnt rag.

“What the heck happened in here,
master chef
?”

“Quiet or you get no food!”

Cat inhaled. It smelled delicious. Her stomach growled, she
was hungry. For more than just the rabbit.

“I apologize, please, feed me and I’ll be good.”

“Promise?”

Cat nodded at their friendly banter, though to be honest it
felt more like flirting. She went to the cupboard and set the table. She
approved of his plain stoneware plates and stainless steel forks and knives.

They were no nonsense. Strong, dependable, and sturdy. She
liked that in her flatware.
And her men.

The rabbit was cooked to perfection. Cat sighed as she
finished every last morsel on her plate. The meat was tender and flavorful.

The perfect balance of herbs and spices tickled her tongue.
It made her savor every bite. The Wolf inside her purred at the knowledge that
her chosen mate had caught her meal and prepared it for her.

“This is really good.”

“Thank you. I’m glad you like it.”

“I can’t cook. I mean, I can order and I can heat up, but I
can’t cook.”

“Yeah, but I’ve seen you outshoot even the best snipers we
have in the Pack.”

“I guess,” Cat tried to force down the blush that heated up
her cheeks. She couldn’t help it though. She was pleased he had noticed her skill
with a gun.

“You don’t have to guess. You outshot me at the last Pack competition
and you tied with Seff. And he was a Ranger.”

“I didn’t think anyone noticed.”

“Rafe did.”

“Yeah, well, my brother isn’t exactly one to give out
compliments.”

“That’s not his fault, Zev was a little hard on him.
On
both of you.
I’m sorry I forget sometimes that you lived with him too.”

“Yeah, well I wish I could forget.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” she stood up with her dish and reached for his.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Please, I don’t mind. You cooked, I clean, fair is fair.”

“Okay then, if you insist. You know, I can teach you some
kitchen basics,” immediately Tate realized the innuendo behind his innocent
statement.

“Can you now?” Cat’s grin widened and she raised a blonde
eyebrow.

“I just meant, you know with the food-”

“Uh huh, what else could you have meant?,” the innocence in
her wide blue eyes made Tate think that perhaps he imagined the saucy flirt he
had just seen behind her grin.
Hmmm.

“Uh, I’m just going to check the perimeter. I’ll be right
back.”

“Yup., I’ll be here,” Cat took her time washing the dishes.
She carefully cleaned, dried, and put away everything they had used.

His cabin was amazing. She poked inside drawers and closets
while he was out. He kept it well stocked with the essentials. Everything had
its own hand carved nook or space. She loved being able to explore it without
him.

It gave her access to pieces of his life she’d never be
privy to. Cat rubbed her chest at the sudden pang she felt. Tate hadn’t exactly
invited her here because he wanted to. He had no choice in the matter. It was
his duty. Kinda took the joy out of exploring. Cat walked back into the living
room with her head bowed a little.

Okay, so you still got a thing for Mr. Tall, Dark, and
Taciturn. Whatever, girl, grow out of it.

It didn’t matter what she thought or how she ended up being
there. Her heart did little flip flops when she recognized the sound of his
foot steps as he walked back inside the cabin and locked the engraved front door
behind him.

“Cat?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s all clear, but I think we should sleep in the living
room tonight. Just to be sure.”

Cat’s mouth went dry. She watched him walk into the living
room in his jeans and t-shirt and wondered what she should do next. His eyes
glowed a little in the firelight.

His hair, short now, was as dark as ever. She loved the look
of it. Like a moonless midnight sky. Cat wanted to get up and run her fingers
through it so badly that she sat on her hands.

“Uh, bathroom?”

“You mean the outhouse?”

“Oh God, no!”

“Well, there’s a pump and a bucket outside. You could,
you
know
and I’ll toss it outside. Then I could get you a pail of water to
rinse in-”

“Are you freaking kidding me?” Cat could deal with no
shower, but a girl had to pee before she went to sleep and she was so not
peeing in a bucket with him there!

“Yeah, actually I am,” Tate’s devilish grin had her heart
doing flips in her chest. Still she could kill him for teasing her like that.

“Nah, seriously though, the first thing I did when I found
this spot was I dug a well. The second thing I did was install a septic tank,” Tate
laughed as he spoke at the look on Cat’s face.
Priceless
.

“I love the outdoors, but it’s the twenty-first century and
bathrooms are no longer considered a luxury. It’s just down the hall.”

“Hey, I think it’s awesome. I happen to like indoor plumbing.”

He laughed out loud as she made her way down the hall with
only the light from the fire to guide her. She could see just fine, but still Cat
mumbled a few not nice things just loud enough for him to hear. He laughed even
harder.

She brought her cinnamon toothpaste with her into the
bathroom.
It’s okay, Cat, you can do this. It’s just one night. With Tate.
Alone in the woods.
She gulped a little too loudly
.

Seriously, Cat, no worries. He’s certainly not going to
jump your bones. He doesn’t even want you here. Not really. He probably doesn’t
even notice you’re here.
She closed the door to the bathroom and exhaled.
It was more spacious than she would have guessed.

It was true that Tate’s taste for interior design bordered
on the simple, but Cat approved wholeheartedly. Everything was neat and had a
certain rustic charm that she rather liked.

If only he had given them a chance. They would have been
great together. But that was all in the past. She was a different person now.
Career oriented. She had no time for girlhood crushes. She smiled sadly and
turned to look at herself in the large oval mirror.

It was beautiful. Like something out of a fairy tale. It
took up the entire wall. The edges were rough and unfinished, but that gave it
a rustic charm. She could tell that it was very old and very heavy.

She saw her ice blue eyes looking back at her from a frame
of wavy blonde hair. The colors went from honey brown to platinum silver.
People always envied her her hair, but she was used to it. She had good hair.
She smiled politely when people asked her where she got it done and simply
shook her head. It was all her.

She continued her perusal in the mirror.
Mirror, mirror,
on the wall…hmm, yeah right,
she thought to herself. She touched her cheeks
and pushed back her hair. Her cheekbones were high, making her face a little
angular maybe. But her skin was clear and creamy. Her lips soft and wide.
Not
too bad,
she thought to herself
. But not enough.

It had been years since she allowed herself to dwell on how
she appealed to men. That man in the other room in particular. God knew he
never wasted any time thinking about her. She looked down and her mouth dropped
open. Maybe she was wrong about that? Or maybe he was just a considerate host.

On the navy blue tile counter top was a new toothbrush still
in its wrapper, a hair brush, and new bar of Ivory soap still in its box. A
fresh powder blue towel sat next to them.
For her
.

Cat reached for the bar of soap before turning around.
Hmmm,
shower or bath.
She couldn’t resist the latter. The old-fashioned claw foot
bathtub sat across from a spacious shower stall tiled with the same small navy
blue squares.

She turned the faucet on and for a minute pictured herself
sharing the large bath tub with Tate. There was certainly enough room for the
two of them.
Whoa, down girl…

Tate tried not to listen to what was going on in his bathroom,
but it was more difficult than he would have thought. After a few minutes, the
sound of running water drowned out the other sounds that he found so
distracting. Like Cat’s heartbeat, or the sound of her swallowing, her soft
footsteps, her breath…

Think about something else.
He sat down on the rug in
front of the crackling wood fire. Cat was here. In his cabin. He could hardly
wrap his head around the fact.

It was difficult for Tate to open up to others. That
probably had a lot to do with his parents. His mother’s suicide and then his
father’s abandoning him with the Macconwood Pack when he was just a kid did
nothing for his self-esteem.

Rafe was probably his best friend but nowadays, before that
friendship, he was Tate’s Alpha. He had sworn loyalty and obedience to Rafe
under the light of the full moon when he first took his position in the Wolf
Guard.

It was an honor to be chosen. Back in the day the Wolf Guard
was an extension of the Alpha’s power. Not like traditional bodyguards, they
did not protect the Alpha from physical harm though each of them would die for
him if necessary.

The Wolf Guard’s job was to protect the Pack with the same
ferocity as their Alpha. They were his right hand, his advisors, his eyes and
ears on the ground. Tate couldn’t believe that after all Rafe had done for him
he was even considering the possibility of betraying him.

How could he think of being with Cat? She was Rafe’s baby
sister for God’s sake! She was totally off limits to him. But why did he get so
crazy with jealousy that he wanted to scream when she had thought he was Liam
back in her bathroom at the Manor?

And why did the hair on the back of his neck stand up every
time she walked into a room?
Dammit
, there was no denying it. He wanted
her. Always.
Focus on something else, man.
The sound of the faucet
turning off got his attention. She’d be finished soon and he had been dong what
exactly the entire time she was in there?

Great, dude. You’re just standing here with your dick in
your hand. Blankets! I should get some blankets.
Finally, a good idea. At
least that way it would look like he was doing something with his time.

He moved to the wooden chest that sat in front of the sofa
and pulled out two throw blankets. They were thin, but soft. He knew they would
suffice for them both. Their kind were naturally warm.

He added a few logs to the fire and refilled their wine
glasses. He didn’t worry that they would get drunk. That was near impossible
for Werewolves. He wondered for a moment if he should douse the fire then shook
it off.

When he built the cabin he set the chimney very high so as
to camouflage the smoke and not frighten the wildlife. He also set up several
ancient Native American animal traps and alarms. If anything or anyone got too
close, Tate would know.