talking about the bad decisions you made this weekend.”
She scuffed her foot and kicked at the floor. “He treats me like a little kid!”
“And when you show you’re responsible enough to take on more privileges, he’ll allow you to do more things. Acting like a small child with no impulse control will get you stricter rules. If you want more freedom, show him you’re ready for it.”
The boys came banging in the front door, and I couldn’t help my smile. I had the pizza dough ready, and all the toppings at hand so we could each make our own pizza. We also had plenty of snacks to eat while our pizzas were in the oven.
I pointed to each bowl as I went. “Sausage, beef, ham, pepperoni, mushrooms, olives, onions – put the red sauce on, then the toppings and then the cheese, which is already blended.” I helped the boys a little, but they mostly knew how to do this now. Five minutes later, Nora helped me get everything into the oven, and then we sat and snacked on finger foods while they cooked — fried cheese sticks, chicken nuggets, boiled eggs, sausage balls, and bacon-wrapped goat cheese.
Once again, I sensed the boys’ wolves. If they changed soon, we’d have to figure out how to home-school them, since the Pack doesn’t have classes for their grade. It should still be years, but I had a feeling they weren’t far from it. Their dad saw what I did, so it wasn’t just me imagining it.
When the pizzas were ready we each ate our creation, and then I brought out the apple pie and vanilla ice cream. We had a nice meal, and I walked them far enough I could see them go in the front door. Gil had done the same with Nora on her way over. He didn’t trust her after her recent behavior, so I’d follow his wishes.
And then I returned home and finally focused on the rest of my evening. I was both excited and concerned about Frost coming over. He hadn’t asked for an invitation — he’d just told me what was going to happen. On the one hand, it felt a little too much like being ordered around in the clubhouse, but on the other hand, it was different. He’d listened when I told him about my day. He knew the kids wouldn’t be here.
And he didn’t assume he could spend the night, but it sounded like he hoped he’d be able to.
Frost
I woke in Cheyenne’s bed Monday morning. The walls were different shades of tan. The floor was hardwood. Every fabric in the room was flowy white. I’d expected an artist to use color, but she’d used earth-tones and white to create a striking, feminine room. The owl approved.
She rolled away from me, turned her alarm off, and rolled back to me. I snuggled her into my side.
“I don’t usually sleep well away from home, but I crashed last night. Your home feels safe.”
“Thank you. I was accused of going overboard with safety, but it felt important.”
“It is, and this room fits both you and your cat. It wasn’t at all what I expected, but it’s perfect.”
“I’m going to change and have a morning run in the backyard before I go to the jobsite. Not complaining, because last night was incredible, but I need to heal before I spend a day working.”
My chuckle was perhaps a little too smug, but I was pleased with myself. She’d orgasmed every time I’d ordered her to, even when it was only moments apart.
“If you have regular breakfast foods, I can get it started while your cat enjoys the morning.”
“That would be nice. I have plenty of eggs, bacon, and sausage.”
Cheyenne
Frost didn’t call me for a few days, but he texted me every evening. Nothing important, just to tell me good night, and he hoped I’d had a good day.
We made plans to have dinner Thursday evening. He’d asked me to eat with him at the Rolling Thunder restaurant, but I’d told him I wasn’t ready for that yet.
He picked me up at home. I wore jeans and my light brown leather jacket with lightweight boots. Felt a little silly in the summer, but I understood his reasoning.
I wasn’t expecting to see his brothers at the steakhouse when we arrived, and I froze, halfway through the restaurant. I glared at him, but he shrugged. “They need you to know they’ll respect you. It won’t be like before.”
We were still