“Yeah. Your truck? Can I borrow the keys?”
He leaned against the wall and folded his arms. “It’s three in the morning. You’ve been injured. You don’t have your driver’s license.” He glanced at her wrist. “Where’s your wrist wrap?”
She wiggled her hand back and forth. “All better. I want to take a run and do some tracking.”
“At the B and B.”
“Yeah. To see if I can learn anything.”
“In your wolf coat.”
“My back feels a hundred percent better.”
One eyebrow raised, he gave her a skeptical look.
“Eighty-five percent.”
He smiled.
“Seventy.”
He didn’t budge from the wall.
“Nearly seventy percent.”
He exhaled heavily and moved toward her. She stood her ground, and this time she folded her arms. She knew that look on his face. He didn’t believe she could track better than his wolves. Nobody ever believed it until she proved it to them.
“We’ve got pack members on it.”
“I can do better.”
He smiled.
She reached out her hand for his keys.
“Darien would have a fit.”
“Don’t tell him.”
“I’m part of a pack.”
“I’m not.”
“I still have to tell him.”
She sighed. “So tell him.”
“He’ll say no.”
She turned and stalked toward the bedroom at the end of the hall. She didn’t know which room was Darien and Lelandi’s, but this one had more of their scent leading up to it. Others had been here also, probably doing what she was about to do. Bother them for pack business.
Tom said, “I’ll call him. It’s less likely to disturb Lelandi than knocking on the door.”
He slipped into his bedroom and walked back out with his phone in hand. She’d already headed in his direction, and he put his arm around her. “Darien—”
“No,” Darien said over the phone. “I heard everything. Wait until tomorrow.”
Tom looked to see if Elizabeth had heard what Darien said.
Elizabeth made a face. “Help me strip out of my clothes.”
Tom smiled just a little.
“I’m going running, no matter what Darien says. Since I’m only seventy percent healed, I might need a little help pulling off my clothes.”
Tom still had the phone up to his ear, still smiling, but Darien didn’t say anything.
“Okay,” she said, “I can do it myself. I’m probably more like ninety-five percent fine.”
She pulled away from him, and he hurried to join her.
“She can’t run,” Darien said.
“’Night, Darien. Sorry we disturbed your sleep.” Tom shut off the phone and took Elizabeth’s hand. “Come on. Let me get dressed.” He glanced down at her stocking feet. “You’re going like that?”
“I thought you might help me get my boots on.”
“Are you sure you’re able to run in your wolf coat?”
“Sure. If I start feeling bad, we’ll come back here.”
“You promise?”
“Yeah.” But only if she didn’t get a lead.
***
Tom and Elizabeth drove into Silver Town and parked in front of the B and B. Bertha met them at the front door, wearing a pink floral flannel nightgown, a big fluffy pink robe and slippers, and a nightcap on her silver curls. “Darien called. Said you were on your way over here. Said it was a case of life-and-death.”
“Yeah, mine, I’m sure,” Tom said.
Bertha smiled.
Elizabeth and Tom went inside, intending to change in her room so they could shift in privacy.
Bertha shut and locked the front door. “Darien wasn’t real happy you headed on over here. You can use another room. I’ve had to leave all the glass everywhere because he wants to see things the way they were first thing in the morning. Just leave the window open and come back in that way. The other guests are not like us,” Bertha whispered.
“Thanks, Bertha,” Tom said.
“Should you run as a wolf so soon after the accident?” Bertha asked Elizabeth.
“She’s a better tracker than our people,” Tom said.
Bertha smiled. “Good. We need the best.”
Elizabeth was certain Tom didn’t believe her, but she’d prove she was right.
“I’ll be off to bed. Just close the window when you return and lock the front door when you leave. ’Night, folks.” Bertha disappeared into her own suite of rooms.
Tom closed the door to the guest room and crossed the floor to open the window. “Are you sure you feel well enough to do this?”
“Yes, yes, I’m fine.”
He considered her determined expression and then sighed. “All right. Let me help you off with your boots and socks, at least. I know what it feels like to go through what you did.”
Yeah, and she’d bet nobody helped him undress afterward! Tom pulled off her boots and socks.
But he didn’t stop there. He was unhurried while trying not to cause her any discomfort, but it was like stripping in slow motion, and she felt her skin tingle in embarrassment as he peeled each article of clothing off her body—jeans, formfitting sweater, bra.
Blushing furiously, Elizabeth realized she should have asked Bertha to help her.
Tom caught sight of Elizabeth in the mirror as he dropped the bra on the bed with her other clothes. Then he removed her panties. Before he could have more of his fill of her, she shifted.
He grinned. “You’re beautiful.”
She couldn’t believe he meant it. She was still a wolf-coyote mix. She had more of her father’s looks—a red wolf but smaller, in between a female red wolf and coyote.
She turned to see Tom yanking off his clothes in a hurry and waited for him. When he saw she wouldn’t tear off on her own, he relaxed a little.
Her jaw dropped as she stared at his toned body, tanned, ripped, and already aroused because he’d removed her clothes as if it were a prelude to something else.
Then he shifted. She expected him to jump out the window to lead the way. Instead, he joined her and nuzzled her cheek, her ear, sending a tingling interest rippling through her body. She really could get used to this kind of treatment.