Dannika Dark - Six Months

All eyes looked between one another in a silent agreement that they didn’t care. Wheeler sat in a leather chair with his legs crossed, watching the scene with mild interest. Ben leaned against the far wall, yawning and rubbing his face. Those two were like night and day.

“There’s your answer,” Reno said.

Austin continued. “How about it? It’s a good offer and we’re a tight pack. You’ll have protection and we need another good man we can trust.”

Trevor blinked a few times and stared at his oxfords. I knew that look. He was on the verge of tears, and Trevor hated crying in front of people. He had never told me about his life or hinted to any history of physical torment. My heart broke at the idea that he’d suffered abuse at the hands of his own family.

“Trial period?” he asked.

Austin stuffed his hands in his pockets, jingling some change around. “All or nothing. I give you my word no one in this pack is going to put his hands on you. I can’t promise they won’t be jackasses and rile you up—that’s daily life around here.”

“They’re men,” Lexi blurted out from the stairs. “It can hardly be helped.”

A laugh bubbled out of me and Trevor looked up, eyes brimming with uncertainty. The white lights on the tree twinkled, the room smelled of cinnamon potpourri, and all eyes were on Trevor. Denver shut off the music and Jericho bit on an unlit cigarette, flicking it up and down. Since smoking was only permitted in his bedroom and the game room, he had developed an oral fixation.

Trevor pinched his lip. “I’m cool with that. But if anyone crosses the line in this house, I’m gone.”

Everyone exhaled at once.

“Well, hell. Let’s get this party started!” Denver cranked up the stereo and changed it over to a radio station.

“Go back, I like that song!” Lexi blurted out, leaping to her feet.

“I’m not listening to Fleetwood,” Denver announced, stopping at a Van Halen song.

As everyone resumed talking, Austin patted Trevor on the shoulder. They shared a private look and without words made a solid agreement.

Trevor now belonged in the Weston Pack.

Lynn had baked a succulent honey-glazed ham with pineapple rings and cherries on top. Ivy took credit for the steamed vegetables and jalapeño cornbread, while Lexi had baked the most savory chocolate chip cookies I’d ever tasted. She spent an hour talking about recipe ideas that had me drooling. It was also decided that after my long hiatus, I was going back to Sweet Treats to resume my position as manager.

Austin filled Trevor in on the formalities of joining the pack. Paperwork had to be signed in front of local Packmasters, but as far as he was concerned, Trevor could move in that night.

I had a fresh start with my life—a new beginning. No strings holding me back or tying me down. No financial burdens, no debt. Anything was possible. Not only that, but for the first time in my life, I felt a sense of belonging. I began to see what a functional family was all about—something I’d never thought I could have with someone who wasn’t a blood relative. Reno paid for my mother to have a headstone, and I buried my remorse along with her.

Reno never questioned my relationship with Maddox, and when I’d tried to broach the topic last night in bed, he slipped his arms around my waist, nuzzled his face against the back of my neck, and told me to go back to sleep. He didn’t want an explanation. Maybe I’d never find out why it didn’t matter to him, but part of me liked having someone in my life who accepted my past. The only thing he had said to me on the matter was that a mistake was something you regretted. I gave it a lot of thought, and I didn’t regret my time with Maddox. What I did regret was not having told someone early on about Sanchez, although I’m not sure it would have made much of a difference. No one leads a perfect life. I accepted the fact it wouldn’t be the last mistake I’d ever make. But that was okay. I wouldn’t have to go through it alone.

After dinner, the porch swing rocked back and forth and I curled up against Reno. I threw my legs over his lap and he wrapped a flannel blanket around us. After he took a long sip of his coffee, he set the mug down on a small table to his right.

“Got something for you,” he said, breaking the silence. He reached beside him and handed me a box.

“Wait, I thought we weren’t going to exchange gifts?”

He smiled and it pushed creases in his cheeks as he looked out into the darkness. “It’s technically not a gift.”

“Funny, it looks like a gift to me.” The box was green with a felt exterior and I smoothed my fingers around the lid. When I opened it, I stared at a glass orb. “Oh, this is so…”

When I lifted it out of the box my breath caught.

“I managed to salvage one of the snow globes after the fire. The firemen put out the flames and while you were being treated, I went back to survey the scene. It was damaged, but I know a guy who’s real good with his hands. He couldn’t save the glass, but he refinished the base and touched up the inside.”

I shook it and watched tiny flecks of snow swirl about the scene with a man walking through the woods with a child on his shoulders. What could I possibly give this man that could match the sentimental value of this gift? I placed the globe gingerly in the box and Reno set it on the table. My heart constricted and I’d never felt more devotion toward someone—more genuine respect—than I did for the Shifter sitting beside me.

“I wanted to save it as a surprise,” he said, as if it were no big deal.

“Reno?”

“What is it, princess?”

I adored that he called me that. Even more, I adored the bookshelf he had built for me that morning and put in the bedroom as a surprise.

“I want to tell you something important.”

He cleared his throat, tucked his arm around my back, and continued pushing the swing with the heel of his boot. “Already told you, I don’t need to know about Maddox.”

“No, you need to know this,” I said in a serious voice.

I could barely make out his eyes as he stopped rocking and glanced down. “I’m all ears.”

That put me on the spot. “Is this forever?”

His rough hand cupped my cheek and a kiss melted against my lips, warm against the chilly air. I could taste the coffee on his breath and I wrinkled my nose. He chuckled and said, “I think I need to get you fitted for a helmet so you can ride with me in the spring when it gets warmer.”

“Is that a yes?”

His knuckles grazed my neck and outlined my breast, traveling down to my lap where my cold hand was tucked between my legs. “I don’t know what forever is, April. I don’t even want to think about the finish line while I’m in the race, because that’s the end, and I don’t want this to end. If that means forever, then yeah.”

“So maybe it’s time that I tell you.”

He didn’t blink and I could almost hear his heart pounding. So I gripped his hand and leaned in close, my forearms against his chest and my fingers touching his smooth jaw.

“I love you. That’s a big deal because I’ve never told that to another man except for Trevor. My heart is the only gift I have to give to you. I love this life we have, and this future…”

Holy smokes, I was crying . Tears streamed down my face. As much as I’d rehearsed that moment in my head, it never involved tears or having to rub my runny nose.

“I just want you to know that it’s a big deal for me not to just share my life with you, but my heart. Every piece of it, even the broken ones. I can’t give you kids—not just because we can’t have children together, but because that’s not what I want in life. My past is something I’ll never shake free of, and maybe some people can get over it and move forward, but that’s not the life for me. You have to be okay with that because if you want a family, I don’t want to deny you of it.”