Unwrapped (4 page)

The blizzard had left a good twelve inches. Patrick had been right. She would've never made the cross-country trek to town. The fact that he had quite possibly saved her life made her feel even more disappointed, and she couldn't help staring longingly down the road as the deputy clipped the radio to her belt and walked back to the porch.

“I'm Deputy Stanopoly from the County Sheriff's.” She climbed the steps and stretched out a gloved hand. “I've been looking for you. Are you okay?”

Jac tried not to cringe from the firm handshake. “I had an accident up the road from here.”

“I know. We found your car an hour ago. Would've found it sooner if the snow hadn't covered it.” The woman studied her. “So around what time did you have the accident?”

“I'm not sure. I guess around midnight. I tried calling for help, but there was no service.”

Deputy Stanopoly nodded. “We figured as much. You should be thankful that you found a place to spend the night.” She leaned to the side and looked in the cabin. “This has been vacant for years, but last I heard it had been sold. Did someone let you in?”

The question caused the events of the night to parade through Jac's mind like a bad porn flick. In the light of day, they seemed outrageously fictional. Who would believe that a Scottish vampire owned the cabin and had saved her from freezing to death, bitten her neck, and given her two amazing orgasms? She had a wild imagination, but even she had trouble believing the story. And her logical sister Bailey would never believe it.

“Actually”—Jac smiled brightly—“I don't know who lives here. The door was open, and I just came in.” She held a hand to her chest. “Thank God there was firewood and blankets.”

“And three little bears?” the woman asked as she glanced at Jac's neck.

Jac laughed and covered the marks with her hand. “N-no. No bears. Just Goldilocks.” And a really hot vampire who hadn't minded sharing his bed.

“Sounds like you lucked out,” Deputy Stanopoly said. “You wouldn't have survived out in the cold all night.” When Jac didn't reply, she nodded at her car. “I'll just let you get your things while I radio my boss. You have a lot of people worried about you.”

“I guess you've spoken to my sister?”

The woman laughed. “Not me. But my boss got his butt chewed out by a woman in your family. Along with the sheriff's department in every county within a two-hundred-mile radius. Even the feds got an earful.”

Jac could only imagine the tirade her sister had gone on. “I'm sorry,” she said.

The deputy thumped her none too gently on the arm. “I have five brothers and sisters, so I understand. When family gets worried, all hell can break loose.” She trotted down the steps.

Once back inside the cabin, Jac shut the door and leaned against it. She hated to lie, but she couldn't tell the truth either. Not when she didn't know what the truth was. In the forgiving glow of a fire, the cabin had been cozy, warm, and seductive. In the bright light of day, it was bare, cold, and shabby. There were no pictures of vampires, with or without fangs, no coffins or bats hanging from the high ceilings, and no black capes or bright red sashes.

Just a kilt.

Walking over, she picked up the soft plaid material. She had a vivid imagination, but last night hadn't been a dream. There had been a man. A handsome man with sharp teeth and a really hot body. And he'd had sex with her. Amazing sex. She might not ever share her secret lover, but she would never forget him.

Not as long as she lived.

P
atrick had always been an early riser. It didn't matter how late he'd stayed up the night before. When the sun peeked its head over the horizon, sleep was no longer an option. But sex was. Sex was always an option. Especially when you woke up to a full-figured woman who ignited your passion like no woman before her. Unfortunately, Jacqueline had been out cold and no amount of kisses and caresses had roused her. So he'd gotten dressed, fixed the tire on his truck, chopped more firewood, and, when she still wasn't up, he'd headed into town for groceries.

And condoms.

The condom situation had him a little nervous. He'd never had a condom break before. Of course he'd never used a condom that he hadn't purchased himself either. If he'd been thinking with his brain, he might've checked the expiration date before using a condom he'd found in the kitchen drawer of the cabin. But he hadn't been thinking with his brain. He'd been thinking with his hard dick. When he realized that he'd wasted the only condom in his wallet on the brunette Bronco, he didn't think twice about using the other condom. Not that he needed to worry. Nowadays most women were on birth control. But he still needed to have a long talk with Jacqueline when he got back to the cabin.

Jacqueline. Her name surprised him. It brought up images of a snooty little rich girl. Having grown up with his fair share of snooty little rich girls, he pretty much couldn't stand them. But a woman who was willing to dress up like the Corpse Bride for Halloween, said, “Sweet Lord have mercy” when she reached orgasm, and drove a MINI Cooper couldn't be some snooty rich bitch.

Patrick had discovered her car—if that's what you could call the pint-size vehicle—perched on a road sign as he pulled out onto the highway. Even with the snow covering it, he could tell that the car was totaled. Which made him realize that the accident had been much worse than Jacqueline had let on. As he drove past, he couldn't help feeling a little guilty for being so rough with Jacqueline the night before. But damned if the woman didn't make him lose control. He got hard just thinking about her pouting lips and sweet curves. Which made him drive a little faster.

When he got to town, he stopped by the sheriff's office to tell him about the accident and let him know where they could find the car and Jacqueline. Unfortunately, it was Sunday, and the sheriff's office was closed up tight. So he called the number stenciled on the door and left a message. After that he got gas and groceries and headed back to the cabin. On the way he called his brother.

Matthew didn't answer until the fifth ring.

“What?” His little brother sounded pissed and winded. Since it was Sunday and Matthew hated to exercise, Patrick could pretty well guess why he was out of breath.

“So? What's goin' on, baby brother?” Patrick tried to keep the teasing humor out of his voice. “You running on the treadmill?”

“Not funny, Patrick,” Mattie growled. “Call me later.”

“Sorry, I can't. I'm up at the cabin. Remember?”

“Shit.” There was the muffled sound of the phone being shifted, followed by distinct complaints from his sister-in-law Ellie.

“This better be good,” Mattie said only seconds later.

Teasing aside, Patrick cut to the chase. “I'm not coming into work tomorrow.”

“Are you sick? Hurt?” The concern in his brother's voice made Patrick smile.

“Nope. I just want to take a day off.”

“Are you kidding me?” The concern was replaced with anger. “You bothered me on a Sunday morning to tell me that you finally decided to take a day off?”

“Of course, little brother. Who else would I bother? Jacob, Rory, and Cassie have so many rug rats screaming in the background, it's hard to be heard. You're the only one that's kid-free—at least at the moment. Which brings up a good point. Do you think it's wise to be heating up the sheets with a woman who's so pregnant?”

“The obstetrician said it was—wait a minute! It's none of your damned business what I do with my wife.”

Patrick grinned. Nothing felt better than ribbing one of his siblings. “Just a thought, Mattie. Just a thought.” Unsure of how long he could keep the connection, he moved on to business. “Here's what I need you to do. Let Rory know I won't be there for the lunch meeting with Sanchez and tell him that the specs are on my desk. Then call my pet sitter and ask if she can stay another night. I'll text you her number. And in the morning, I need you to stop by the Welbourne site. I chewed Harper's ass out on Friday for being too lax about ear protection. I want to make sure he got the message.”

“And you think a visit from me will make a difference?”

“You're a big scary corporate lawyer, aren't you?”

Mattie snorted. “Not as scary as the big mean project manager. But I'll do my best. Anything else I can do for you?” he asked snidely.

“Yeah.” He paused just long enough to piss his brother off.

“What, Paddy?”

“Give Ellie a kiss for me.” He was still grinning when he hung up. As much as he liked to tease his family, he loved them. Even his father, Big Al, whom he constantly locked horns with. His mother said it was because they were two peas in a pod. Patrick didn't see it. He might have his father's stocky build and green eyes, but he wasn't even close to being as arrogant or demanding. Although he did have a tendency to put work before pleasure. But only because work was his pleasure.

He loved construction and never minded staying late or going in on weekends to make sure the job got done. Some people might have called him a perfectionist. He wasn't. He just liked things done right and on time. But after talking with Matthew, Patrick realized that a few days off here and there wouldn't make a difference. Maybe he should start coming to the cabin more often. Like every other weekend. Or even every weekend. Not only would it get him away from his aunt's matchmaking, but it would give him more time to work on remodeling the cabin. And if he should run into a certain sexy blonde, all the better.

Suddenly feeling extremely happy, Patrick started to whistle. He had learned to whistle from his dad—just like he had learned to swing a hammer and wield a power saw. The skills had come easily to him. While his siblings had needed years of practice, Patrick had built his first birdhouse at the age of five, all while whistling the theme song to the movie
The Bridge on the River Kwai
. It was the same song he whistled now. But he'd only gotten halfway through it when his phone rang. He glanced at the number and rolled his eyes. So much for thinking that being surrounded by mountains would keep him away from Aunt Wheezie's matchmaking.

He pulled his cell phone from the front pocket of his flannel shirt. “Hey, Wheeze.”

“Hey yourself,” she replied in a sassy voice. “So when are you getting home today? I thought I'd stop by with some cookies.”

He shook his head. “And, no doubt, another one of your friends' granddaughters or great-nieces who are looking to get married and start a family? Wasn't moving Donna in right next door to me enough?”

“Deirdre. Her name is Deirdre. And if you had given her a chance, you would know that.” She paused for only a second before continuing. “It's time for you to start a family, Patrick.”

“I have a family. I have a mom and dad, and enough brothers, sisters, nephews, nieces, cousins, uncles, and aunts to fill Mile High football stadium.”

“Then let me rephrase that. You need your other half.”

He rolled his eyes. “Please, Wheezie, just give it up. I'm quite happy with my life. I have a good job. A comfortable home. And plenty of company when I want it. The key words being
when I want it
.”

Wheezie snorted. “That's your problem, Paddy. You're too much of a loner. If you're not careful, you'll end up like your great-uncle Wesley. Since he died before you were born, all I can tell you is that the man was the unhappiest crotchety old hermit you'd ever want to meet. And I won't have my nephew living that kind of lonely life. You need a mate. Someone to soften your rough edges and teach you the enjoyment to be found in female company.”

An image of Jacqueline stretched out naked on his sleeper sofa popped into his head. “I enjoy female company.”

“I'm not talking about sex, Patrick. I'm talking about finding a woman that you're not just physically attracted to, but mentally attracted to. A woman you want to share everything with. Your thoughts. Your fears. Your deepest desires.”

His deepest desires
.
Right now his deepest desire was to get back to his cabin and Jacqueline's warm body.

“A partner,” Aunt Wheezie continued. “That's what I want for you, Patrick, and why I've been such a pain in the keister the last few months. You're not getting any younger…and neither am I.”

His aunt was always using her impending death to get her way, and since she was over ninety, her death was impending. Which was one of the reasons he hadn't completely disowned her after all her matchmaking schemes. Knowing that she only had a few more years on this earth kept his anger in check. But it wasn't easy.

“Okay, Wheeze, I get that you want me to be happy. But not everyone is cut out to be a husband and father. I work long hours, and I like to work long hours. After I get off work, I like to have a beer with the guys without worrying about pissing off some woman because I didn't meet her and her friends for sushi. And when I get up in the mornings, I like to drink my power smoothie and go for a run without worrying about hurt feelings because I didn't eat the strawberry waffle that the same woman slaved over a hot skillet to make me.”

Wheezie snorted. “That's why you need a woman, Paddy. You make waffles in a waffle iron, not on a skillet.”

“Whatever. My point is that I like my routine, and I don't need a woman messing it up.” There was a weird clicking noise, and he figured he only had a few more minutes before he lost her. “Look, Wheeze, can we call a truce? You stop throwing women at me, and I'll make an effort to do more dating. Or at least keep my eye open for…my other half. In fact I'm kind of on a date as we speak.”

“A woman is with you?”

“She's staying with me at my cabin.”

“A living, breathing woman? Not that silly life-size doll that Matthew bought you as a joke.”

“Yes, a living, breathing woman. I left Miss Featherbee at home.” There was silence, and he could only imagine his aunt rubbing her hands together with glee.

“Truce,” she said with a smile in her voice. “But only if you bring your young lady over to visit so I can see if she's a good fit. I don't trust you to make the right choice.”

He laughed. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. I'll call you when I get back in town.”

“Enjoy the rest of your weekend.” She hung up.

Patrick might've felt relief about the truce if he hadn't made it with his aunt. Aunt Wheezie never cried uncle. She might take a little break from her matchmaking, but she wouldn't be content until he was standing at the altar. The poor old gal was in for some major disappointment.

After slipping his phone back in his pocket, Patrick continued his whistling. He whistled as he drove the rest of the way to the turnoff. Whistled as he headed up the dirt road that led to his cabin. Whistled as he carried the grocery bags through the door.

He stopped whistling when he got inside and saw the empty sofa bed. Placing the bags on the kitchen counter, he took the time to slip a few condoms out of the box and into his back pocket before heading to the bathroom. Visions of silky white flesh surrounded by slippery, sudsy water crowded his mind and lengthened his cock against the fly of his jeans.

It wasn't until Patrick stood in the doorway of the bathroom, with the note he'd left still attached to the mirror, that his mind finally comprehended what his libido couldn't.

Jacqueline was gone.