Jackson held my hand on the way back to the house, which I was at pains to tell him was only right that since he ripped my panties off a little romance was in order.
He laughed so hard that we had to stop so that he could get it out of his system. I just stood there, staring at him, wondering what the hell was so funny.
Eventually, he shook his head, wiped the tears from his eyes, and grabbed my hand before leading me back at an easy pace.
On the way, I caught him up on what'd happened before Lara turned up. Namely, how the boy came back and not only showered but also told me his name.
Jackson stopped again long enough to back me up against another tree and kiss me silly. He didn't say why, but I guess it's because I've made even more progress with Riley and he was proud of me.
We walked some more before I realized that neither of us thought to pick up my ripped panties from the forest floor. I imagined a poor squirrel or a rabbit using my torn thong as bedding for their young.
The image horrified me so much that I almost turned back. But when I told Jackson, I set him off again, and then I spent the next couple of minutes waiting for him to stop laughing.
Finally, we got back to the rental about an hour after we'd left, and the sight of Lara's car came as a serious blow. I know I should've expected it, but I'd kind of hoped that with me taking off and Jackson following, she'd have gotten the message that Jackson wasn't interested in her and she'd left.
But no.
Before we step in the back door, Jackson gives me a look that tells me he'll handle it. I mime zipping my mouth shut and throwing the keys behind me. But after giving me a doubtful look, he draws me close for a hard kiss and then shoves the back door open.
We find her in the kitchen, having helped herself to one of the steak sandwiches I made for Riley and Jackson.
The sight of her eating it pisses me off, so before she's even said a word, I'm already glaring at her because she's had more strikes against her that I know I should've laid her out long before now.
Barging past me was strike one, treating Riley like he's some kind of servant and then scaring him off was strike two, rejecting Jackson was strike three. Now she's helped herself to lunch without even being invited? Yeah, that's one strike too many, and I bristle with the need to unsheathe my claws and go for her.
"Lara, what are you doing here?" Jackson's voice is still cold, but there's a distance to his question as if he doesn't really care about the answer-or about her.
She places the rest of the sandwich on her plate and dabs her mouth delicately with a napkin. I wait with bated breath to hear what story she cooks up as to why she's come crawling back to a mate she rejected.
Instead of answering Jackson, Lara turns and pierces me with her emerald-eyed gaze. "What is she doing here?"
Despite my intention to let Jackson handle this, I open my mouth.
"Regan belongs here. It's you who doesn't. Now, I ask again, what the fuck are you doing here?" Jackson snarls.
I close my mouth because it sounds like he's on top of everything.
Lara's gaze dips to our clasped hands, and she narrows her eyes.
I'm almost positive I catch the faintest trace of pain from her. It's nothing like what I get from Jackson or Riley, mostly it's buried within her, but it's there. Her seeing Jackson holding my hand hurts her, and despite knowing she doesn't deserve him because of what she did to him, for a split second, I can't help but feel guilt stirring.
But then her lips tighten and the pain I sensed from her fades.
Just as I brace myself for what undoubtedly looks like a bitchy retort is about to cross her lips, her expression suddenly shifts, and just like that, her eyes are swimming with tears that look like sparkling diamonds.
She turns those wide, teary eyes up at Jackson as if he's her fucking savior. "Jack, I can't talk about it with her here. It's about my father."
Wow, this woman… she's something else.
I dart a glance at Jackson, expecting him to be staring at her in disbelief because seriously, who would buy this?
Instead, I find a heavy frown creasing his brow. "What about your father?"
I blink at him. He's buying this. Jackson is buying the shit this bitch is shovelling.
Still shocked that her ploy appears to be working, I turn back to Lara and find a tear slowly sliding down her beautiful face. Just one, as if she's in an old black and white movie.
I didn't know people cried like that in real life, and a small part of me is a little impressed because when I cry, it's a mess. I'm a mess. There is nothing beautiful about sobbing with a red nose, red eyes, blotchy skin, and a runny nose.
"He's dead," she gasps, lifting a napkin to dab at her eye.
At the last second, she stops. I'm guessing she's remembering she used it to wipe her mouth after eating a sandwich that wasn't hers to eat.
So much for her concern, if she's able to think about that in the middle of wailing about his death.
My suspicions increase when I realize that I'm not sensing any pain or anguish from her. That she had more of a reaction to Jackson holding my hand has me suspecting she's realized she made a mistake rejecting him.
"Regan, could you give us a minute, please?" Jackson asks.
I swing to face him. "What?"
"I need to find out what's going on here."
"What do you mean? I don't understand, what could-"
"My father was alpha of a pack in Pasadena, California," Lara interrupts.
As I'm struggling to understand why she's filling me in on this, when I know she views me as something to get rid of, seconds later, I do.
"My father never hid his intention that Jack should eventually lead the pack. There was… a situation that he proved himself to be capable of leading. Father wasn't happy about my decision to end things with Jack, but we were different people then. And now he's dead, we're without an alpha. Our pack needs Jack."
I stare at her in shock because now I know why she wants me to know. She's here to offer Jackson the pack-the family-and the home he didn't have before.
"But you rejected him," I say, in case she's forgotten.
She shrugs. "This isn't about what I want. This is about the pack, and what they need. Jack agreed before. He promised my father he would come back."
Then what did you mean, you were different people then? Now that he's rich, you're better suited to each other?
I turn to Jackson now, and he doesn't have to tell me that she's telling the truth. I can see it in his eyes.
"So, we need him, and he agreed already. Jack understands responsibility. He understands the threat facing our pack. He knows what will happen if he doesn't come back with me."
A pack war.
That must be what Lara means. They rarely happen now because our packs distance themselves from each other. So, unless it's a big city, you can usually only find one pack living there. Two packs living side by side would end up in a war that would continue until one wiped the other out.
But Pasadena is a big city. It's easy enough to believe there is more than one pack living closer than is comfortable. That, or there's bad blood between her pack and another further away.
It sounds like Jackson helped Lara's pack before, maybe Jeremy did as well, yet that wasn't enough to stop Lara from rejecting Jackson anyway, I can't help but think bitterly.
"Regan?" Jackson's soft call draws me out of my thoughts.
I turn to him, still working to process how I feel about this.
I was ready to walk away in a few days, but I never entertained the thought that it'd be Jackson leaving. Because he will. Why would he want to go through the effort of trying to build a pack from the ground up, including a house that's being beset by problems, when he could just walk into a fully formed one that needs him?
"Can I borrow your truck? I'd like to head to the store and pick up some groceries."
He blinks at me in confusion because it's super random I know, but if I can't bake something to quieten my restless mind, pushing a shopping cart around the store in search of some new ingredient I've never tried before, is my next happy place.
Doubt flickers in his eyes, as if he's fully expecting me to jump in his truck and hightail it back to Hardin.
It takes effort, but I force a smile on my face. "I'll be back in… an hour? I thought I'd pick some stuff up for Riley as well. That enough time for you to talk, right?"
He studies me some more, and the doubt fades as if he's remembering my determination to help the boy.
Finally, Jackson reaches into his pocket and offers me his keys. And right in front of Lara, he tugs me closer and kisses me lightly on the lips. "Less. Half an hour is plenty. Drive carefully."
At his words, I feel the tightness in my chest ease that he's not trying to get rid of me so he can have sex with the lovely Lara.
I don't bother saying goodbye to her, just nod and walk away from the kitchen, stopping long enough to run upstairs to grab my purse and slip into panties, because… yeah, I'm not about to go grocery shopping in a dress and no underwear.
Since I've never driven Jackson's truck before, I take a couple of minutes to move the seat forward because I can barely reach the pedals.
But before I put the key in the ignition, I turn to the forest and think about Riley and where he went. He's been shifting more to human, and the shower means that he's lost the wild wolf scent which made it almost impossible to identify him as a shifter.
I think about the mangy wolf who chased me down the hill, and I wonder how Riley knows him. Since, well, he has to. It's too much of a coincidence.
If I didn't think it would have Riley running, I'd ask him if he shares any of the food I give him with the mangy wolf, or if there are others that I haven't seen yet.
Then I shake my head because I'm sitting here daydreaming instead of hitting the store. I start up the truck and pull away, hoping that by some miracle Lara would have left by the time I return.