Five Weeks (Seven Series #3)(25)

I glanced over my shoulder and turned around. A lovely woman with a long braid strolled in my direction. As she neared the lamppost, I could make out her warm complexion and earthy eyes. She looked Native American from her strong bone structure and elegant demeanor. The wind kicked up her long skirt and she reached down and gripped it with her fist.
“Are you having car trouble?”
“No. I’m just… tired from a long night at work. I waitress here.” I pointed at the building and she smiled.
A strand of hair blew free and tangled in front of her face. “I’m Ivy. A brother of mine locked his keys in his truck again, so I came by to drop off a spare set.”
“Maybe he should keep his spare set in his back pocket,” I suggested.
She laughed, and the apples of her cheeks glowed. “He would probably lose those too. I’m not one to be nosy, but I don’t like seeing someone in need. I’m not sure exactly what you’re in need of, but you have that look about you.”
Ivy seemed like an expressive soul, and I got good vibes from her right away. “I’ve temporarily split with my boyfriend until he can get his act together. I don’t think it hit me until I got off work that I don’t have a home to go to.”
“Then you’ll stay with me. What’s your name?”
“My name’s Izzy, but I can’t impose like that.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “And why not? You need a place to stay, and I live in a large house with plenty of rooms. We should help others so one day they can return the gesture to someone else. I’m not asking just to be nice, Izzy. I truly want to help so I can put my good intentions into the universe. Maybe one day some of that goodness will come back to me. Don’t deny me this because you think it’s imposing. Truly, it’s not.”
Wow. This girl could sell. She had a way with words that made you feel as if you were in the wrong and she was imparting her wisdom upon you. What could it hurt?
“Ivy, I’d love that. Just one day is all I need to get myself together. I promise I won’t be in your hair; my body is in dire need of rest, so I’ll probably sleep until midafternoon.”
“Have you eaten?”
“Yes.” The pretzels on the bar counted a little bit, so not a total lie. Usually I ate breakfast at dawn and went right to sleep, but I didn’t want to be a bother.
She eyed me skeptically. “I’ll call my Packmaster and let him know about our arrangement. Follow me.”
I blinked. “You’re in a pack? Oh, in that case…”
“Don’t worry.” She lifted her hand and smiled. “He’s a compassionate man who will not turn away a woman in need. Shifters should stick together. Regardless of what your animal is, you’re welcome in our home. I’ll drive slowly,” she said, walking toward a hatchback.
I followed her taillights and switched on the radio, singing along to an oldie by U2. A fragile smile touched my face as the song reminded me of a time in my life when strangers had given me a meal or a ride to a new destination. It would have been a dangerous proposition for a single girl, but I’d had Jericho at my side to protect me.
I had been adrift for so long that coming back into the Shifter community felt like home. While I’d worked Breed bars in recent years, they were in small towns, and their clubs served other Breeds, including humans. The calling to be near my people had become stronger in the last year or two. I’m sure it had to do with my ovaries putting pressure on me to mate. Those two bitches needed to mind their own business.
When Ivy turned up a private road, it led to a magnificent house with a large stretch of land around it.
“Wowzer,” I muttered, gaping at what looked like an old-fashioned mansion. It was lit by a pale moon, and I could make out white flowers around the property and upper balcony. One of the trees in front had an old-fashioned rope swing tethered to a lower branch, and several cars were parked on the left side of the house. Ivy waited for me by the steps of the wooden porch while I parked my car.
“Everyone’s asleep,” she whispered as I walked up the steps. “Sometimes they get up in the middle of the night and raid the kitchen, so if you’re hungry—”
“I’m fine,” I promised her. “I just need some shut-eye and I’ll stay out of everyone’s way. I don’t want to be a nuisance.”
We approached the door, and she held out her key. I noticed a sign nailed to the siding that said Weston. Something about that name sounded familiar.
“You’re no trouble compared to some of these boys,” she said in a low voice. “I’ll take you up to your room. Do you have any bags?”