smiling. He doesn’t need the encouragement. He is the enemy.
He gestured to her face and said, “Saw that smile.”
“Whatever, Wesley. I’m going to take the longest shower ever so I get a break from your annoyingness and run us out of hot water.”
“I just have to build your tolerance to me up again,” he called as she marched into the bathroom and closed the door behind her.
When she turned and faced the mirror, she tried to frown but her face wasn’t listening to her orders. She stood there pursing her lips against a smile instead. She almost didn’t recognize herself. The old her was peeking through just a little, and for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out if that was good or bad.
Probably bad, because this change had to do with Wes Kaid, and that man was nothin’ but trouble.
Chapter Five
Fourteen missed calls from Wes’s apparent warden, Hunter.
Wes almost regretted taking his cell phone out of his duffle bag at all. He hated phones. Didn’t do social media and didn’t have a social life, his choice. He didn’t want to return a bunch of stupid calls and text messages while he pretended to care about whatever everyone needed from him.
The only people he needed communication with was the Kaid Pack. And now that he had been away from them for the majority of a day, something strange was happening to him.
He missed them.
Wes glared at the glowing phone screen with the texts from Hunter. Being an alpha wasn’t what he’d thought it would be like. He hadn’t planned on caring like this.
Where are you?
Why aren’t you picking up your phone?
Your duffle bag is gone.
I checked your closet. Smells like a girl was in here.
Wes?
Wes?
Wes, Wes, Wesley, Wesapotamus, Western Weselus, Wessy, WesWes.
Answer!
I’m telling Bryson.
Next text was Bryson. Where are you man? You’re worrying us. Not cool.
Worrying them? Get a grip, Bryson and Hunter. He’d been gone for a day, not a month. But it bothered him. He felt this strange sensation in his chest. Guilt? Guilt for causing them worry?
With a growl, he leaned on the tailgate of his truck and called Hunter. Douche picked up before the first ring was even done.
“Wes! What the hell? Where are you? What’s happening?” Hunter answered, way too loud.
“Settle the fuck down, Stage Five Clinger. I’m taking a few days off. Vacation and all that.”
“Liar! I can hear it in your voice. You’re lying just like this morning. Bryson!” he called.
Wes could hear the murmuring of Bryson’s voice from some distance off and the bawling of the cows. They must’ve still been outside working.
Wes chewed on a rough edge of his short thumbnail. “It’s late. Why are you still out there in the dark?”
“We got two cows having trouble calving,” Hunter explained.
“Shhhit. Which ones?” Wes asked.
“One-oh-four and Maris’s baldface cow.”
“Marshmallow?” Wes asked.
“Kinda weird that you know her cows’ names, but yeah. That’s the one.”
“She’s had three calves before this one and never had any trouble. Is it breech?” Wes asked, staring at the hotel window. Still dark, which meant Summer was still in the bathroom. Girls took really long showers.
“No, not breech. I told you that bull was gonna throw big calves. They’re too big. Bryson’s trying to pull it right now.”
More guilt. Wes should be there, but Hunter didn’t know that Sam was alive. And a part of Wes didn’t believe it himself, so he couldn’t get Hunter’s hopes up by telling him he was hunting down their dead brother. He had to keep this quiet until he was certain.
“Can I ask you somethin’?” Wes asked his brother.
Hunter’s response was immediate. “Anything. Well…except probably math questions. Or anything about history or naming the bones in the body. Or anything about constellations or what my favorite book is. Or—”
“Shut it,” Wes demanded. “I don’t need a bunch of nerd answers. I need to know…” He swallowed hard and cleared his throat, tried again. “I need to know how to shop for a woman. What do those she-critters need?”
“What do you mean, what do they need? You just feed ’em and hug ’em sometimes and tell them they’re pretty when they’re on their periods.”
Wes squeezed the bridge of his nose between two fingers and counted to three for patience. He would rather eat grass than talk about periods. “If I have a friend, who is a girl, and she doesn’t have anything to wear, or like…brush her hair with…what do I get her from the store?”
“Oh. I’m good at this. I done it