Ice_Reaux - Laura Wright Page 0,40
had forgotten what wonder they brought. Maybe someday he would be fortunate enough to have one. A family. A mate. It would be the greatest gift to watch someone mother her cub as she should. With maternal love, affection and joy and…blind acceptance.
How Karen mothered Caleb.
Besides being a breathtakingly beautiful woman, she was a deeply devoted mother. Even after what she’d been through. There was no anger or resentment placed on Caleb. She deserved happiness. She deserved a real, trustworthy mate who would hold her as she cried, as she released the pain caught inside her.
He snarled at the thought. No—at the vision of her ‘good friend’ Adrian taking on that role.
“What’s wrong, Reaux?”
He glanced over at the picnic spread. Caleb was looking at him, curiously.
“I think he’s hungry,” Karen said. “Come sit down, Reaux. We have plenty.”
Something was happening inside him. Something concerning. Yes, he’d agreed to help her, talk with her—try to show her ways to heal her grief and anger. But he wasn’t stopping there. As he should. He was following her, playing with her son. Thinking about her as he lay in his bed at night. And right now… Right now there was nothing he wanted more than to change back into his cat, sniff out ‘good friend’ Adrian and fight the male until blood was shed.
“I wish I could,” he told them. “But I have to go. I have a session.” Damn right, he did. With himself.
Caleb looked disappointed, but Karen told him to return to his food and then she grabbed a sandwich and stood up. “Here. Take it with you.”
She was too close. Her eyes eating him up. It was as though she were the one carrying the musk on her skin.
“My mama made it,” Caleb called over to him. “Ham and cheese and mustard. She makes the best sandwiches ever.”
Reaux’s eyes caught hers. And held. “Ever?”
She blushed. Between that and her wild, windswept red hair, he was starting to forget his name. Who he was. Who she was to him.
“He’s biased,” Karen said, shaking her head. “Love colors our view, don’t you think? And maybe seasons and sweetens as well.”
“Maybe,” he uttered.
Noting that he seemed preoccupied, she started to ask, “Reaux—”
But he cut her off. He needed to leave before he started to think he belonged here. With them. He feared his puma already felt that way. He glanced at Caleb. “Keep doing those exercises. Keep talking to him.”
“Who?” Karen asked.
“My cat, mama,” Caleb said.
“We can’t be sure there’s a cat inside you, honey,” she reminded him. “We hope so, but—”
“Reaux’s sure,” the boy said, his expression resolute. “Right, Reaux?”
Reaux nodded. “You’re Pantera, cub. I scent it.”
“See,” Caleb said. Then his face broke into a huge grin. “And what about mama, Reaux?”
“What about her?”
“What do you scent about her?”
Karen laughed, though her cheeks remained pink. “Don’t be silly, Caleb. I have no puma inside me. There’s nothing to smell—”
“Sweet mint,” Reaux said.
They both turned to look at him. But it was only Karen’s eyes he wanted in that moment.
“Everyone has a scent,” he continued. “Your mama’s is sweet mint.”
“Is it the sweetest mint ever?” Caleb asked.
“Quite possibly.”
“Maybe you should kiss her and find out.”
“Caleb,” Karen scolded, but her eyes never left Reaux’s. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he said, his tone gruff and heavy with a need he hadn’t felt in…Goddess, he didn’t know how long. “I have to go.”
She nodded. “Will I see you tomorrow?”
“That’s why I came by,” he lied.
“Oh. To make an appointment?”
He nodded, his flesh pulled tight against his muscle and bone. He was going to touch her, kiss her… He had to know how she tasted. “Ten o’clock?”
“I’ll be there.”
Without another word, every inch of him screaming with a fire she had set inside him, he broke from their sweet little gathering and gave himself over to his cat once again.
CHAPTER 6
Nightmares had been a normal part of life in the labs. One needed somewhere for the horrors of the day to go. But tonight, what was making Karen wake, cry out, breathe heavily—well, it had nothing to do with fear.
Shards of heat flickered in her belly as she opened her eyes. Dark room, moonlit ceiling. Her hand between her legs. Fingers wet. She could still see him—skull-shaved black hair, gray eyes, hard, passionate features and a mouth that had been where her fingers were now.
On a groan, she rolled to her side, her hand leaving her sex, and drew her knees up to her chest. Dreaming about him? God,