“Well, I’d sure rather be inside her head than yours right now.”
“Ain’t that the truth?”
A chill crept up Charles’ spine, bringing with it a sensation the two of them were hiding from something or hiding something. “I feel like we’re sneaking around.”
“Yeah, well, we are. Do I need to remind you there is a woman in your parents’ house who came home with us? Remember Alyssa? The one your mother is currently entertaining?”
Charles glared at Reese. “I’m aware of the problem.” He resumed pacing. “She’s a conundrum all of her own. Suggestions?” He hadn’t exactly forgotten Alyssa, but he definitely didn’t have her in the forefront of his mind. It sure as hell wasn’t convenient he and Reese would meet their mate less than a day after bringing another woman home.
“Me? Why do I have to solve everything? I don’t have the faintest idea what we’re going to do about her. Getting her out of Oklahoma was easy. Why didn’t we consider what would happen when we got here?” Reese shook the thought from his mind. “I can’t deal with that issue right now. My brain got overrun by a sexy minx with deep brown eyes who blocked out the first twenty-five years of my life in less than an instant. Meanwhile we’re hiding out back in the woods plotting… What the fuck are we plotting?”
Charles ignored him. “Let’s consider the facts.”
“Go ahead,” Reese muttered. “Do you have any new ones that have come to light in the last few hours?”
Paying no attention to Reese once again, Charles held up a finger. “First, the elusive Jessica is a wolf. Second, she doesn’t like that idea one bit. Third, well, shit, she’s our mate.” He resumed pacing.
“Good job, Sherlock. Like I said, do you have anything new to add?” Reese jumped to his feet. “Look, we are running out of time. We have to get back to the school before our sexy little pixie decides to make a run for it. By the look on her face, I wouldn’t be surprised if she jumps in her car the first chance she gets and hightails it out of town.”
“What do we do about Alyssa?”
“Alyssa who?”
“Ha ha. The sexy blonde girl?”
“Was she blonde?” When Charles turned toward him, once again widening his eyes in shock, Reese laughed. “Oh, good grief. I know what color her hair is. I’m just pointing out what portion of my brain is actually focused on her.” Reese turned and stomped toward the opening in the trees. Taking advantage of their new ability to communicate silently, he spoke directly into Charles’ mind. “You coming, or am I going to claim Jessica alone?” There was no need to shout or turn around now that they’d found a mate. Their friendship had just taken an about-face.
“Do you have to be so crude?” Charles grumbled, but he didn’t care. This situation was sticky at best; it had disaster written all over it at worst.
“You want me to sugarcoat it?” Reese spun around in front of him, his nostrils flaring. “We’re fucked.”
“Hey, it’s not our fault. We’re innocent in this whole thing. How the hell were we to know we would meet our mate today of all days? People, wolves too for that matter, have lives. This surely happens.”
“Of course it does, but a very nice woman came halfway across the country with us for the holidays. You want to tell her or you want me to?”
Charles cringed again. Reese was right. Furthermore, Nancy Masters, Charles’ mother, was not going to be very happy if her son treated anyone, wolf or otherwise, with anything but respect and courtesy. He could hear it now. “Son, you invited this charming woman to spend the holidays with us, so now you must reap what you sow and deal with it.”
Reese craned his neck forward, waiting for an answer.
“Let’s figure that out later. First, we have to go talk a reluctant Jessica into … well, I don’t know quite what, but something.”
“At least we agree on that.” Reese turned on the balls of his feet and headed directly for the truck. “No sense stopping by the house now. We’re out of time anyway.”
* * * *
Jessica peeked out the small window in the corner of her classroom for the fiftieth time. It was the last day of the semester. The first day of Christmas break. Why the hell was anyone still in the building?
There were three cars outside. Her Honda Civic. An unfamiliar black truck right next to it with steaming windows, which could belong to no one other than either Charles or Reese. And last of all, the assistant principal’s Mercedes. Obviously Carrie’s husband had a better job than she did.