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Chapter 2
Day 156 of the re-emerged Hat Island pack, Sunday, Nov. 10, Penticton
Jessie surveyed thedouble bed in the center of the motel room. Somehow she’d always thought motels and hotels were more glamourous than this. She wasn’t going to admit it to anyone, but this was the first time she’d ever stayed in one. Not even as a kid. Her family primarily traveled to see relatives, or to camp out in places like Victoria or Prince George. No motels.
She had to say she wasn’t impressed. The room was mostly done in dirty grays and grayed browns. The bedspread was a weird floral thing where the purple flowers had long ago faded into just another part of the grays and browns. There were beige drapes at the window, the old pinch-pleat kind, and they were limp — one corner sagged.
Ryder looked around too, as if he was seeing it through her eyes and he sighed. “It’s cleaner than it looks,” he offered.
Jessie started laughing, and he grinned. “Take a shower,” Ryder ordered. “And I had Mei pack an outfit for the bar. It’s tight, and glittery, and probably not your style at all. And no, I don’t know how Mei could pull that together on such short notice. Because it most certainly isn’t her style!”
Jessie giggled, picturing Mei dressed in tight blue jeans, and a glittery T-shirt. “Not to mention I’m probably 5 inches taller than she is,” Jessie agreed. “I suppose I need makeup and big hair to go with it?”
“Not big hair,” Ryder decreed after looking her over. She felt a bit uncomfortable under his regard. “Your hair is long enough, you can wear it down. But yes, makeup. It’s in there too.” He looked at her boots. They were black with a low heel which had been great for the bike. He shrugged, and she guessed they would do for the bar too. They would have to, they were all she had, unless Mei had worked wonders there too.
“There’s some earrings in the kit,” Ryder said. He glanced at her ears, which weren’t pierced. “She figured you didn’t have pierced ears, so we’re good. I don’t know what all else she gave you.”
Shifter women had a hard time with piercing their ears. If you did it, you practically had to wear studs 24/7. Jessie had never bothered.
Jessie hauled the pack into the bathroom with her and closed the door. She showered and dressed quickly, trying not to think about how she looked. The blue jeans were really tight; she was afraid she was going to have to ask Ryder to help her get them zipped. They hugged her legs all the way down, and then slid into her boots. The button-front shirt was sleeveless, and darts made it form-fitting. Really form-fitting. It was pink. Jessie rolled her eyes. And it did have sparkly shit on it. She did her makeup, the one thing she felt confident in doing, and she made it bold. It would have to be, to go with the shirt. And the earrings, which were long and dangling and had pink coral bits in them. With clip-ons, her ears were going tohurt. They would hurt probably even before they got to the bar.
Timidly, she stepped out of the bathroom, trying not to show her nervousness. But when she looked at Ryder, she felt braver — he liked what he saw. Liked her.
“You look great,” he said huskily.
She smiled at him. “Better get your own shower,” she said.
Ryder nodded and ducked into the bathroom. She had a momentary image of him undressing —did he really have tats? Wolves didn’t, as a rule, for the same reason piercings didn’t work — the wolves saw them as injuries and healed them.
She supposed that wasn’t quite accurate. It was their genetic heritage that predisposed them to healing all injuries quickly. But most shifters tended to think of it as something their wolves did, maybe because shifting to wolf and back often aided recovery.
Jessie roamed the room restlessly, not that there was much to explore — a big screen TV sat on a large dresser; did people really use the dresser? There was a small table with two chairs. And one oversized reading chair. An ugly one. A small nightstand was attached to the wall on each side of the double-sized bed. The lamps were sconces, also attached to the wall. Were they afraid someone would steal them? She couldn’t imagine why. There was a heater/air unit under the window. It kicked on and made such an ungodly racket that she jumped. She turned it off. It wasn’t cold in here, not really, not for wolves. And if the alternative was that noise, she’d freeze first.
But mostly she was trying to not focus on the bed. One bed. And not a particularly large one either. Well, Ryder had warned her. She swallowed hard. Her reactions were pure chaos, she acknowledged to herself. She tried to sort them out and failed. But none of them were fear, she realized.
She was not afraid of Ryder.
She had been wary of the men at Margarite’s — all of them: Chen’s recruits, the men from all the families and independents and Vancouver pack who had let Chen commit his atrocities, even Margarite’s men. Well, not Alefosio, not after she got to know him and saw his patience in working with the women who had been changed by Alpha Chen. Same with Benny. She had become easy with him, but she stayed away from the others of Hat Island. She knew they were good men, but they were big, and dominant, and well, she wasn’t sure she’d ever trust a man again.
She wasn’t sure shetrustedRyder. But she wasn’t afraid of him, and maybe that was a start.
Reassured by that, she sat on the edge of the bed and waited for Ryder to come out of the bathroom. And my, my, didn’t he clean up nice! He was wearing black jeans that were snugger than the leathers he’d had on earlier and outlined strong, powerful thighs. A black sweatshirt with the sleeves ripped out revealed his biceps. Very, very nice biceps!
And he did have tats. She swallowed hard. She’d liked reading romances that featured bikers and billionaires and well, romances. And men with tattoos always did something for her —maybe because it was so foreign to her. She didn’t know anyone with one!
She wanted to ask about them, but then realized she was staring at this man and he was staring back. She hastily averted her eyes. She’d learned the hard way, you shouldn’t look men in the eyes. And the more dominant the man, the more dangerous it was. And Ryder was very dominant.
So was Benny, but he hid his dominance. She wondered why.
She had so many questions! She sighed a bit, wondering if she’d ever get to ask them.
“Where did your mind go?” Ryder asked, amused.
She blushed. “I was wondering about your tats; I was told wolves couldn’t get them, and then I was wondering about how dominant you are, which made me think about Benny, who hides his dominance, and I don’t know why. I have so many questions! And no one to ask.”
“You can ask me about all of those things later,” Ryder teased, still amused. “I promise not to tell you to ‘stop asking questions!’” He said that last, mimicking an exasperated mother, and Jessie laughed. It sounded just like her own mother when she’d been 6. “But we need to get out of here now, because all the men are waiting on us.”
