“Bullshit,” Henry said. “You just like being a dick.”
“That, too.” Silas shrugged, his attention turning back to the neighborhood around them. “But being an asshole can serve more than one purpose, you know.”
After so many years around Evershaw, Henry knew that very well. But he wasn’t going to admit it to Silas. He growled his irritation and refused to say anything else about it, and instead sent the rest of the team off in a grid pattern to search for trouble. He didn’t like that they kept turning up nothing, but that there were always enough hints the next morning to drag the teams out yet again the following night.
Something else was going on.
His thoughts were still searching for meaning in the random events and tracks as he made his way back to the house and passed Cricket on the porch. The cat followed him into the kitchen and meowed piteously until Henry shared some of the leftover fajita chicken he scrounged from the fridge. Damn cat. He was starting to get fat, though no one in the house would own up to overfeeding him even when Deirdre demanded to know who the culprit was.
Henry had even seen Evershaw himself give food to the beast. There wasn’t affection there, but some weird sort of mutual respect. Evershaw’s wolf recognized that Cricket had guarded Deirdre first and well for a long time, and apparently didn’t mind continuing to share the job.
He shook his head after turning off the lights and climbed the stairs slowly, rubbing his shoulder. It was past midnight and the rest of the house was still and quiet. Silas would return in an hour, but otherwise there wouldn’t be any activity until Mercy popped out of bed like the sun at six in the damn morning. He didn’t miss sharing early-morning rounds with her at the old packhouse, though he missed hanging out with her. Maybe he should take her to a movie or on a brotherly date before he left for Montana, if Ophelia didn’t mind.
He stopped in his tracks on the stairs, staring into the darkness as the thought ground his brain to a halt. He didn’t know what unnerved him more: that he’d so easily accepted needing to go back to Montana, or that he wanted Ophelia’s okay before he took another woman—even his adopted sister—out for a movie and dinner.
Maybe Silas had a point.
Henry shook his head and continued on his way to his room in the back of the house, grateful for the quiet and relative privacy from everyone else. It wasn’t until he stood outside his door and caught a hint of light inside that he remembered who else was sleeping there. He hesitated. Maybe after everything that afternoon, Ophelia wanted privacy. Maybe she didn’t want to see him at all after the talk about Montana and him growling at Silas...
He nudged the door open and poked his head in, looking around. “You awake?”
Ophelia sat up in the bed, her hair a little frazzled and sticking up in odd tufts, and held up knitting needles. “Yeah.”
Henry snorted. From the pillow wrinkles on her cheek and the yawn she tried to swallow, he doubted it. He eased into his room and shut the door, not wanting to overwhelm her. He suddenly had no idea what to say.
Her cheeks turned pink, though he couldn’t tell if it was embarrassment or just sleepiness. “I can find somewhere else to...”
“Don’t even think about it,” he said, then stopped short as her eyebrows arched. Henry wanted to knock his own forehead for being an idiot. “I mean, you’re fine. You’re welcome to sleep there. I’ll... sleep on the floor.”
“You shouldn’t have to do that,” she said, and the pink cheeks darkened a little more. “I don’t mind sharing. Since it’s your bed and all.”
He swallowed a groan. Having her all snuggled up in his bed, looking sweet and sleepy and content, drove the wolf wild. He wanted desperately to be in there with her, but he sure as hell didn’t trust himself to remain a gentleman. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
A shadow crossed her face and he felt more like an idiot, and the wolf grew agitated that he’d made her feel bad. “It’s not you. It’s not about you. It’s…me.”
“You?”
He grumbled and eased closer, sitting on the edge of the bed so he could touch her ankle through the covers. She smelled amazing, and a little bit like