Code Wolf: A Macconwood Pack Novel (The Macconwood Pack Series Book 3) by C.D. Gorri

Author:C.D. Gorri [Gorri, C.D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-05-25T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER 11

A warm breeze drifted in through the open window. South Carolina was starting to grow on Randall. After all, he was a southern boy at heart, born and raised in Jacksonville, Florida.

He called New Jersey his home these days, but for some reason he wasn’t looking forward to going back to his cold office at the Manor or to his one bedroom in the most isolated part of the big house. Indeed, he found nothing about returning to his solitary life appealing. Even his company could survive without him. Hell, except for the Pack and his position as Wolf Guard, he had nothing.

Don’t get me wrong, he thought to himself, I’d die for Rafe, Charley, heck, for any one of them, but just once it’d be nice to have something to live for too. He inhaled deeply as he took a long sip of the deep red wine Tulla served him after dinner.

Werewolves didn’t get drunk as easily as normals. Heck, it was damned near impossible for them to get drunk at all. But still, he enjoyed the taste and the feeling of the dark liquid as it slid down his throat. Things like taste and smell were heightened for Werewolves. The wine was really good, he acknowledged.

He listened with his supernatural hearing to every giggle and whisper of clothing coming form inside the house as Tulla helped Danny get ready for bed. She tucked him in, sang to him in her fine if slightly off-key voice that made Randall smile, and kissed him goodnight. Damn. He was jealous.

He wished he had the right to go in and join the fun. Imagine him, tucking in his child and kissing his mate on the lips before turning in for the night. Lying beside her, knowing she was his to protect, that they were both his. To keep safe, and fed, and warm. A lovely dream, he thought as he tossed back his head and downed the entire glass.

The tightness in his chest was from the wine, he told himself. It had nothing to do with the fact that he wanted that dream. So fucking much. He wanted to march right in there and stand by her side. He wanted to drop a kiss on the little boy’s head and whisper goodnight to him before turning on the little dinosaur nightlight at the foot of the bed. Then he wanted to gather the little boy’s mother in his arms and kiss her until she moaned her pleasure.

It’s definitely the wine, he told himself. Randall wasn’t a family man. He was a computer hack. He had no time or room in his life for complications and that’s what women and children were, right? Isn’t that what his father had called him. A complication that caused his mother to die.

He winced at the sharp pain he felt in his heart as he remembered the cold words his father had spoken to him all those years ago. Werewolf or not that man was a drunk.

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