Lena got up. With her back held straight she crossed the distance between their two houses. Her confidence lasted until right after she’d knocked on the door. Then she wanted to faint. Her palms got sticky, and she suddenly had to pee more than anything in the world.
The door opened slowly. Devin peered out from the small opening. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you. I shouldn’t have come over. I’m not entirely in my right mind.”
Lena sniffed the air. “You smell sane to me. There are a lot of crazies running around these days with the drug abuse going on. I don’t smell that from you.”
She thought she heard him laugh but the sound disappeared immediately. “Not that kind of crazy. I’m…well…I’m not sure how to describe it, but it won’t happen again. I’ll leave you alone.”
He went to shut the door, and she stuck her foot in the opening to prevent it. “No, I don’t want you to leave me alone, Devin.”
“You don’t?” He pulled the door open wider. “Why not?”
She could have screamed with frustration. He still couldn’t smell that she was his mate?
“Because I need help.” That was true. She apparently needed lots and lots of assistance.
“I’m not sure I’m fit to help you with anything. As I said, I’m not right.”
“You’re fine.” She patted him on the arm and scooted by him to get into his house. A few minutes of this couldn’t be completely reputation killing. Besides, who was there to see it? Who would know?
He stared at her with a blank expression. Not that she could see much of his face at all. Devin’s cheeks, chin, and part of his neck were completely covered by his brown beard. The hair on his head had grown shaggy and fell past his neck. When she’d first seen him, years earlier, he’d had close-cropped hair and he’d never gone without shaving.
Under that beard was the most handsome sight she’d ever seen. He had a long face with a cleft in his chin that made him look authoritative. The summer that he had left for the wars, his parents had thrown four parties, one for each of their children. She had come to all of them. Her older sister, Brigit, had flirted shamelessly with Devin, but Lena hadn’t worried. She known the second she scented him that he was for her.
His arms were exposed in the black, torn T-shirt he’d fallen asleep in the night before. She could see he was tattooed. That had happened sometime in the last fifteen years because he hadn’t had them before.
Two of his brothers were dead—Robby and Auggie. Devin had gone missing and everyone said Dougal still fought at the front. Lena was so sick of the war. All of the men she’d ever known were gone, dead, wounded, or drugged up. There was no way she would allow her mate to fall into that category. She could already smell the painkillers in him, and they stank enough.
She would interfere before he took it to the level of illegal drugs. One addict in the family was enough.
“Can you fix things?”
He stared at her like she’d spoken a different language. This might have concerned her, but every so often his eyes darted to the V in her T-shirt. She’d done the right thing showing off her cleavage. Usually, she wore much more conservative outfits, but a desperate Female had to resort to all the tricks she had up her sleeve.
“What kinds of things?”
“Here’s the thing.” A plan formulated in her mind. “My house is falling apart. My father has started his Departure.”
Devin shook his head. “He’s too young.”
“Unfortunately, no. You must still be thinking of him as he was when you last saw him.”
“Shit, you’re right. Fifteen years have passed.” He jerked. “Sorry about the language.”
When he wasn’t freaking himself out, Devin seemed completely adorable. She smiled. “I’ve heard those words before.”
“I shouldn’t be speaking those words in front of kids.”
Now that wasn’t acceptable. She put her hands on her hips and pushed out her breasts even further. “Do I look like a child to you?”
“No you don’t but you were what—two? —when I left? I refuse to think of you as anything else.”
Lena had never thought of herself as particularly sexy. In truth, she never thought about herself at all. Who had the time? At that moment she needed to be sex on a stick or she was going to lose her mate to his preconceived notions, which must be the reason he couldn’t smell she was his mate. That had to be it. He had some kind of mental block.
She walked forward. “I was seven when you left. I went to all of the going-away parties that year. I don’t expect you to remember me. But I remember you. I’m twenty-two now. I’d prefer it if I weren’t forgettable.”