Still, not showing up for dinner would no doubt have him finding her and questioning why. The man was so damned nosy it amazed her. The fact that he seemed to be taking some kind of interest in her after she left the Covert Law Enforcement Agency worried her. Graeme wasn’t known for his concern for anyone but Chelsea’s cousin Cat. How Claire had ended up with that nickname, Chelsea hadn’t figured out yet.
Padding naked from the shower to the attached walk-in closet, she considered not just what to wear, but also what to do.
Dinner at Graeme’s would require at least a dress, while heading out to the clubs and various underground bars on the reservation required an entirely different sort of attire.
Jeans and boots worked. There were plenty of underground clubs, but they were often dangerous, raided and not always easy to get into. Still, Cassie had managed to list several of the more popular and harder-to-access locations.
Those establishments were frequented by a high number of Breeds, despite the clubs’ illegal status. Having Breed members made them harder to raid as well. The Enforcers always seemed to have advance warning of any raid being made, unless Cullen’s Agency made the raids. And it was rare that Cullen could be convinced to do so.
Cullen.
God, she missed him.
Missed working with him, arguing with him, and sometimes he even laughed with her. Not that he laughed much after his wife’s death a decade ago. He’d retreated from everyone then, closing himself off and concentrating on his rise up the ranks of the Covert Law Enforcement Agency instead.
Would he be at Graeme’s? she wondered. He usually showed up at his brother’s dinner parties. Several times, they’d actually ridden in together whenever Chelsea had been invited as well. Graeme’s attempts to befriend her since his relationship with Cat never failed to confound her, but she was certain he had the best chef in the world.
The question remained, though. Dinner where Cullen would no doubt be in attendance, or another night staking out illegal bars and photographing Breeds and whoever they were with?
Decisions, decisions.
Seeing Cullen would definitely hurt after all this time. For some reason she’d expected him to make more of an effort to call or at least check on her after the night he’d pulled her out of the Cerves compound.
And he hadn’t kissed her before she left, either. She had hoped that maybe he would. Amid the crashing adrenaline and fight to stay in control of the resulting devastation of tears and emotions returning with a rush, she’d hoped he’d kiss her.
Her lips tingled with the need; her neck ached where his teeth had scraped the skin the morning she resigned from the Agency.
Sleeping was impossible some nights if she dared let herself think of it, and most nights, she dared. She’d lie awake, reliving it, torturing herself with a need that she knew he wasn’t about to slake for her.
Asshole.
Going to dinner at Graeme’s and risking having to actually socialize with Cullen was more than she could deal with.
Pulling dark pants and a T-shirt from the closet, Chelsea stomped to her bedroom and threw them on the bed mutinously. She might as well work. At least then, she might actually become too immersed in finding Breeds to think about Cullen. That or she’d be attacked again.
She pushed that memory back. She wasn’t going to let it spook her. The Coyote her Wolf Breed Enforcers had taken down was a verified Genetics Council soldier, not part of the Breed society. He was one of the monsters the Council had first envisioned, merciless killers that followed their creators’ orders, nothing more. He must have somehow caught her snapping those pictures of him from her truck and taken offense. Or worried he’d be identified. There couldn’t possibly be another explanation.
Pulling on lacy black panties, she frowned at the uneasiness she could feel at the rationalization. No matter how many times she tried to be logical about it, the possible reason for the attack didn’t sit well with her. And she might tell herself she wasn’t going to let it spook her, but Chelsea knew she was spooked.
Not simply because she could have died. She should never have been attacked to begin with.
Dressing quickly, she fought back the hint of nerves that came with thinking about it, concentrating on the job instead. She was familiar with the list of locations Cassie had sent. A few of them she could actually get into on her own; for the others, she might need to get her handy-dandy Wolf Breed shadows to get her entrance.
She pulled on her boots and was just picking up the small pack she kept her equipment and other necessities in when the sound of the doorbell had a grimace twisting her lips.
Hopefully, it wasn’t her sister, Isabelle, making a quick little visit to make certain Chelsea was attending Graeme’s dinner. Isabelle and her husband, Malachi, were often invited to the dinner parties Graeme hosted, and Isabelle would guilt the hell out of her if she learned Chelsea wasn’t going.
Family dynamics—good grief.
Gripping the doorknob, she gave a quick turn of the lock and swung the door open, not bothering to chec
k to see who her visitor was first.
She should have checked.
Her breath caught. Something hot and achy tightened in her chest and for just a split second, her heart seemed to pause before it jump-started and began racing in her chest.
“Cullen.” It seemed like it had been forever since she’d seen him. Since his green eyes had sparked with that hint of warmth while staring back at her and his far-too-somber expression made her ache to bring a smile to it.