Page 17 of Deep Love

Chapter Seven

Delphi

Watching Mason walktoward the police station, his long legs carrying him from his truck to the front entrance, shouldn’t have gotten me all hot for him, but it absolutely did. Shouldn’t I have been able to get a grip on my desire after all the lovemaking we’d done back at the apartment? Was my need for him going to be insatiable now that we were together again?

Before he opened the police station door to go inside, he shot me a quick glance over his shoulder as if he knew I’d been ogling him. The left corner of his mouth turned up slightly, and damn if I didn’t want to scurry right over to his side. Only Sylvie jogging to catch up to him kept me rooted to my seat in his truck.

Barely.

I needed something to distract me from wanting to be near Mason. I scanned his truck, but the front seats were devoid of anything interesting because he was apparently still the tidy guy I’d known him to be. A peek in the back, however, turned up a small stack of books on the seat. I reached an arm back and pulled one off the top of the pile.

Italian Recipes Your Nonna Would Approve. I flipped through the book, only succeeding in making myself super hungry.

I grabbed another book. Spicy Mexican Dishes. The colorful pictures in this one made everything look incredibly appetizing and increased my hunger tenfold.

I swiveled in my seat to read the rest of the titles, noting that all the books were cookbooks. Mason was great at his job cooking at the diner, but the books made me wonder if he wanted a more serious career as a chef. The man could bake too if that blueberry pie was any evidence. I could easily picture Mason working in a fancy restaurant, creating artwork on each plate that was served to his customers. The dishes I had hauled out to people tonight at Moose’s Diner were all beautiful. Probably too beautiful for a small-town diner in the Vermont woods.

A quick survey of the back seat didn’t turn up anything else interesting so I focused on the front entrance of the police station again. As it was nearly two in the morning now, the place was not a buzz of activity. It was nice to know that while I’d been in Seraphia, Moon Valley hadn’t gone to shit and turned into some crime-ridden hellhole. Unfortunately, Mason’s cousins added a bad element.

When Mason and I had been together before, he’d kept me away from his family for the most part. Now I knew why. Bringing a human around a pack of werewolves who A.) were not sober most of the time and B.) wouldn’t approve of our relationship would have complicated things. Still, I would have liked to have helped Mason with his family issues if I could have. The best I could do was be here for him now.

I settled deeper into the passenger seat and must have dozed off because the driver side door opening jolted me awake.

Mason got in, chuckling softly. “Did I wear you out?”

I poked him in the biceps, loving the hard muscle that met my fingertip. “Shut up.”

He laughed louder then started his truck.

“So what’s happening with your cousins?” I asked as he pulled out of the parking space.

“I negotiated a deal with the police chief.” Mason chuckled. “Honestly, I’m not sure how I accomplished that, but he agreed to let Ferguson Construction repair the damage to his house. Free of charge, of course, which I’m pretty sure gave my sister a mini-stroke, but it was the best way to keep Gary and Scott out of serious legal trouble. It also distracted the chief from the fact that although my cousins are drunk, their blood-alcohol content doesn’t reflect that because they’re werewolves. He also didn’t notice they were nearly healed of their scrapes and bruises from the accident already.”

“That all sounds like a genius plan.” I wasn’t surprised he’d come up with it. Mason had always had a sense of justice and fairness.

“If my relatives can keep it together enough to actually repair the house it will be a genius plan.” Mason scrubbed a hand over his face then scratched at the underside of his bearded chin. “The thing is they are good builders. When they’re sober. They built a gazebo in the little park near Rodgers Lake that is gorgeous. I’d had to basically make our packhouse and my relatives’ homes dry by commandeering all their liquor to get them to build it though. They’d hated me, but they’d gotten the job done.”

“Might be time to make another booze sweep before they start on the police chief’s house then,” I said.

“It’s at the top of my to-do list for tomorrow.” He tapped the dashboard clock as we headed toward the apartment. “Or later today, I suppose.”

“A lot has happened since this afternoon, hasn’t it?”

“You got that right.” He reached for my hand and interlaced his fingers with mine. “A lot of awesome stuff has happened. Stuff that made dealing with my pack’s nonsense not that big of a deal.”

I brushed my free hand over his forearm, giving it a little squeeze. “Can I take this moment right now to reiterate that you would make a phenomenal Alpha for your pack?”

Mason slid his hand free and clamped it onto the steering wheel, his jaw tensed as he drove.

“Hear me out, Mason. Granted, I don’t know a ton about werewolves or pack dynamics or anything, but I do know you. You have all the qualities of a leader, and it seems to me, that you are already acting as the Alpha of the Ferguson pack. Who did Sylvie call to help with the situation?” I poked his biceps again. “You. Who marched down to the police station as soon as the phone call with your sister ended? You. Who managed to smooth things over with the police chief so your cousins avoid a lifetime behind bars? You. If you ask me, you are this pack’s Alpha.”

A low grumble sounded from Mason, but his jaw loosened as he turned into the apartment building’s parking lot. He didn’t say anything as he parked his truck and shut off the engine. He squinted out the windshield for a few quiet moments then angled to face me.

“You’re right,” he finally said.

“I know.”

Mason nudged my shoulder with his fist, a small grin on his lips. “Don’t get cocky.”