“Not tame it,” I say quickly, “I like it so far, I think. Just gonna have to teach you about compromise.” I sift my fingers through her silky hair. I love the feel of it on my skin.
She rolls her eyes. “My whole life these days is about compromise. But I’m always the one doing the compromising and I think I’m just about up to here…” She slices her hand across her forehead, “with it.”
“You wanna explain that to me?”
“Not particularly,” she says, rolling away from me.
“Where d’you think you’re goin’?” I ask.
“I need my phone. Someone texted me when you were… you know.”
“While I was fucking my new wife?” I ask. “That’s another thing to learn. That you’re mine. Just mine.”
She shivers and tries to hide it. Did she like that I just said that? I’m feeling like she does.
I follow her into the bathroom and look over her shoulder as she reads the text message.
Sheila Crawford: We should talk about this list you sent the DJ. If you won’t reconsider your choice of DJ versus band, you need to at least reconsider some of these song choices.
She puts her phone down, shoulders slumping and then lifts her blouse and holds it close to cover herself as she spins to face me.
She’s got fire in her eyes now.
“You said you were gonna feed me. And you promised me something else you never delivered, so I guess you’re showing me who you are, too, aren’t you?” She squats and lifts her underwear from the bathmat. “And can you go so I can pee, please?”
“What?”
“Never mind.” She puffs out her cheeks and then tries to walk away.
I catch her by the shoulders.
“Talk to me. I’ll always keep my promises, Amie.”
Little lines form over the bridge of her nose and she pouts a little.
Clearly, that text upset her and she’s lashing out.
I cup her jaw with a palm, grazing her cheek with my thumb.
“We’re gonna have to play catch up, get to know one another rapid pace instead of the way you’re used to doing this, but I want you to know here and now that you can be direct with me. Say what’s on your mind so we can deal and move forward.” I take the underwear from her and toss them as I lean in for a kiss.
She shakes her head. Her phone makes noise. She glances at the screen.
Ivy: Please get ahold of me! 9-1-1! Are you with someone named Mason?
“See? She’s okay,” I say.
She exhales hard with relief and then gathers up the rest of her clothes as she shakily calls her sister on speaker. It immediately goes to voicemail and announces the mailbox is full.
She blows out a long breath and tries the number again while pulling her underwear on.
“What the fuck is going on with her? 9-1-1?” she mutters, more talking to herself than to me.
“See? She knows you’re here,” I offer.
“I need to know she’s okay.” She dials the number again. Voicemail full message again. “Shit,” she mutters. “Where are you, Ivy?”
“I’ll make some calls.” I leave the bathroom and grab my phone.
I’ve got several missed texts. Nothing urgent. I scroll through and see some non-urgent work stuff, one work text about a meeting that I’m not going to be able to procrastinate for long, and a few congratulatory texts from pack members.
I call Bailey Blackwood, Greyson’s sister.
“Mason!” Bailey answers excitedly on the first ring. “Congratulations!”
“Hey Bailey. Thanks. How are you?”
“Whoa! So much excitement around here lately. Forget me; how are you?”
“No surprise, news is traveling,” I say.
“And scents. Some of those are definitely on the move,” she adds.
I chuckle. “No surprise there. And I’m fantastic, thanks.”
“Well, yeah. Second biggest news to happen in a while. I’m surprised to hear from you so soon.”
“Speaking of which, have you talked to Ivy Savage today?” I ask.
The bathroom door opens, and Amelia comes out, rolling her eyes and correcting me, “Brennan. Ivy Brennan.” She clips her bra into place around her waist and covertly works her arms into it without removing her blouse. I find this amusing since I’ve been looking at her naked body for the past few hours and now she’s trying to shield it from me.
“Yep,” Bailey answers. “I was just there, actually.”
“How is she? Amelia’s concerned about her. They haven’t talked.”
“She’s… um…”
I can tell by Bailey’s tone that things are tense over there.
I don’t wait for her to finish. “Amelia is worried because she says her sister was kidnapped and since she can’t reach her, she won’t settle until she knows she’s physically okay. Can you talk to her? Tell her you’ve seen Ivy, she’s uninjured, just with her mate and doing all right?”
“Well, I’m not sure she is fine, Mase,” Bailey says.
“Uninjured. Safe. And that Tyson is doing what he needs to do to provide, care for, and protect her?” I push.