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I laughed. “If you’re not entirely sure, Charmaine has a spare room I think she’d let you crash in?”
He laughed, the sound loud. “Oh, no way. If I’ve been offered my own place, I’m totally up for that. It’s free, right?”
I laughed, too. I couldn’t imagine Patrick levying a charge on us, even if his reputation suggested he could be a tyrant when it came to business. “Yeah, it’s free. And I’m pretty sure Charmaine has already collected some of your things.”
“Then I’m in!”
Girard stood. “Tell Wes I’ll collect him from the hospital.” He headed to the door. I relayed the message to Wes before saying goodbye.
It would be nice to have my own mini-pack back together.
32
PATRICK
Ibustled through my front door and stopped short at the lingering scent of jasmine in my condo. I hadn’t forgotten Jo was here, but it hit me like a freight train all over again that she was.
A number of boxes were in a tidy pile in the entryway, and my chest loosened, my heart lifting as I smiled. She’d clearly had a busy day, and she was planning to stay. I couldn’t ask for anything more than that at this point.
I’d been slightly concerned she might move in with Charmaine or Wes, and I wanted her by my side. Nowhere else.
Well, my wolf wanted her there, and I needed to protect her, so it was easier this way. I didn’t need any more of that internal battle right now.
There was a local radio station playing in the kitchen, and some old number about being “all out of love” filled the air as Jo sang along. I relaxed into the sound — although I wasn’t about to ask how the hell she knew the words. They were surely from before her time.
I loved how she could fill my condo with her scent and her music. It made me happier than I’d been in a long time, and I didn’t want anything to change right now.
I just wanted Josephine Everly.
I walked farther into my home, approaching the kitchen, and my breath caught when I rounded the corner. Jo stood in my kitchen, her hair in a messy ponytail as she leaned into the fridge, food half-prepared on my counter and a pan simmering on the stove. She was cooking for us, and the simple domesticity warmed me.
I’d never needed anyone to do domestic duties, but the fact that she looked so at home and that she was doing something as basic as preparing our food — essentially ensuring I was cared for as well — captivated me. I would have absolutely ordered in or taken her out, but there was an intimacy I hadn’t expected in this. I watched her for a moment longer, caught in the moment, before I stepped forward.
Wrapping my arms around her from behind, I breathed in the scent of her hair. “Honey, I’m home.” I’d never had that homey fantasy before, but now the words slipped from my lips.
She tensed for just a moment before she relaxed against me, her body conforming easily to mine. I turned her carefully in my arms, and she grinned softly at me, the expression in her eyes almost shy.
“Hi,” she whispered.
“Hi,” I replied as I nuzzled my nose against hers.
Then I pressed my lips to hers. Softly at first, then with more intensity as she responded. She moaned quietly as she threaded her fingers into my hair.
I lifted her and sat her on the counter, my hand on her thigh as I bunched her skirt higher. She reached between us, and I took a step to stand between her parted thighs, pushing her panties aside. As I grazed my finger over her already swollen clit, she grasped my dick through the fabric of my pants, and I pushed gently into her hand. My palm was against the back of her head, my mouth still on hers, tongue flicking against her lower lip, seeking entry…but she drew away.
“We can’t burn the dinner.” Her voice was almost a plea. “If you distract me, we’ll waste all the food.” She dropped her head against my shoulder and sucked in a breath. “And you areverydistracting.”
“Hmm…” I played along as if only considering her words. “Dinner or pleasure? Which sounds better?”
She sighed.
I took a small step back, putting space between us, then lifted her chin before kissing her mouth again. A kiss of promise. “Perhaps I can distract you properly later?”
She grinned, already looking regretful. “Threat or promise?” she teased.
“Either. Both.” I laughed. “Whichever you prefer.”
She laughed, too. “I like both.” Mischief captured her lips as she jumped down from the counter and returned to the pot on the stove to give it a quick stir.
