back you up if it comes to a fight, but the first approach must come from you.”
Liam acknowledged that, and even in his distracted state, Sean could tell Liam wasn’t happy about it. Liam hadn’t worn the mantle of power long, and it still bothered him to have his father defer to him. Sean understood; his own anger at his father today disturbed him underneath it all. Changes in the hierarchy were hell.
Sean knew that someday he’d slide in dominance beneath his own son, and the thought of having a son brought him back around to thoughts of mating. With Andrea. Sean let his fingers drift under Andrea’s hair to the smooth skin of her neck. She flushed but didn’t shake him off.
Glory laughed. “Well, we know Sean’s priorities today.”
“He can’t help it.” Liam slanted a smile at Kim, the mate for whom his frenzy hadn’t yet cooled. “Trust me, I know how it goes. Take Andrea home, Sean. We’ll kick some Feline ass later.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“I don’t need to be taken home,” Andrea said as Sean opened the door of Glory’s house. He went inside first to check that the way was safe and gestured her to follow him.
The house was dark and empty. Glory and Dylan had remained at the Morrisseys’, Dylan helping to reassure Connor that Andrea wouldn’t be punished. Andrea had been a bad wolf, and so had Glory, but the mean alphas were going to cut them some slack for the good intelligence they’d brought home.
Andrea went straight to the kitchen and grabbed the coffeepot. The cold day was getting darker and colder, and she needed coffee.
Sean divested himself of his sword and then leaned his fists on the breakfast bar, muscles tightening. “I’m damn sorry if you walking into danger bothers me, Andy-love. I’m funny that way.”
“I only went to find Glory to talk her into coming back home. I have to live in this house; I don’t want the walls falling down around me because Glory and Dylan have a knock-down, drag-out fight.”
“Dylan wouldn’t do that.”
Andrea noisily ran water to fill the pot. “No, he gets all cold and disappears, and then I have to live with Glory’s bad temper. Why can’t the two of them just mate and get it over with? Then the rest of us can sleep.”
“Because it eats him up inside, my mother’s death.” Sean’s fists were even tighter, his knuckles whitening. “It was a long time ago, but he hasn’t gotten over it. The grief, it destroyed him.”
Andrea let out her breath as she scooped coffee grounds into the top of the pot. “I understand. I saw what my mother’s death did to my stepfather.” Grief could be a terrible thing. Her stepfather hadn’t truly recovered from it, and it had been more than thirty-five years.
“My mother was a little bit like Glory,” Sean said. “Very in your face. Kind of like you.” The corners of his mouth quirked in a tight smile. “I think if Glory weren’t so like my mum, it wouldn’t be so hard for Dad. But he’s not sure he can give himself to Glory, not sure he has a right to. He’s a complicated man.”
“Whereas you are so simple.” Andrea plugged in the pot and waited impatiently for the heavenly sound of percolation. Shifters could have automatic-drip coffeemakers, but Andrea thought it tasted better in an old-fashioned pot anyway. It was satisfying to watch the coffee burble into the little glass knob on the top of the pot as the water boiled. And the scent was glorious.
“I am simple,” Sean said. “I wait for people to die so I can send them to the Summerland. I fill in the time between that messing with my computer and hoping to mate before I die myself.”
“Don’t overwhelm me with sentiment.” Andrea faced him across the counter. He really had no idea that he was one of the most complicated and changeable males she’d ever met. One minute he was growling and controlling, the next so protective she thought she’d never feel in danger again, the next grieving for his dead brother and feeling compassion for his father. Which one was the real Sean Morrissey? Answer, all of them. Sure, Sean, real simple.
“What were you doing in Colorado anyway?” she asked him. “How did you pull off flying there? Shifters aren’t allowed on planes.”
“Not being allowed and not doing it are two different things, love. I have human friends who own airplanes.”