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“Whatever, sweetheart.”
“Do you know what time Reuben wants to meet with us tomorrow? I know we just got here, but I’m already gettingrestless. I want to figure out who has the painting and what they are planning to do with it.”
“Nine in his office.”
Cal groaned. “He does realize we’re on Seattle time, right?”
“Oh, poor baby. Are you worried about missing out on your beauty sleep?”
He smirked. “I don’t need it, but you sure do.”
“Really? Pretty sure you were the one who couldn’t stop checking me out.”And coming with my name on your lips.
“I… I mean… I didn’t… No, I wasn’t.” His cheeks went red as he stammered out a denial, and then he stood and backed toward the door.
I wanted to tell him I liked the way he looked at me, but I didn’t, instead watching him fumble with the door handle until he eventually got it open. In a second, he was out in the hall, the door to my room swinging closed behind him.
When I heard his door shut, I yelled through the shared bathroom. “Good night, sweetheart. Dream of me.”
“You wish,” Cal replied, his voice muffled by the wood between us.
And I did. I really, really did.
CHAPTER
FIVE
CAL
Jack must havesome sort of voodoo shark magic because I’d dreamed of nothing but him all night. Some of the dreams were of the real Jack in both his shifted and human forms, and others were of generic great white sharks chasing me in my orca form like something out of a twisted version ofJaws, where I wanted him to catch me and claim me as his own with a real bite.
Needless to say, I’d slept like absolute shit, and when my alarm went off at seven thirty so I’d have enough time to shower—thank God I’d given up shaving after I left the military, or else I would have needed to get up even earlier—change, and track down something for breakfast, it felt like I’d barely closed my eyes.
Adding jet lag to the mix made me feel less than human, and by the time I got out of the shower, reaching for the towel I could have sworn I’d left on the back of the door only to find nothing there, I was beginning to think I might still be in a dream.
I looked around the bathroom for another towel, but there were no linens anywhere except for the two tiny hand towels hanging on polished nickel rings next to each of the sink bowls.
My decision to steal Jack’s towel yesterday had come back to haunt me, and I growled his name loud enough that it echoed offall the hard surfaces of the bathroom. I swore I heard him laugh on the other side of the door leading to his room.
At least I still had the towel I’d taken from him yesterday, and as long as I didn’t think too hard about the fact that he’d had it wrapped around his waist, his bare cock rubbing over the fabric, I’d be fine.
But thinking about not thinking about it made me think about it, and I had to stuff my half-hard cock into the tightest pair of boxer briefs I’d brought just to keep myself under control.
The longing pang in my chest was getting harder and harder to ignore, and unluckily for me after last night’s dreams, the urge to tell Jack what he was to me and mark him as mine was hovering at the edge of my thoughts and on the tip of my tongue.
Which was why, despite my jet lag and the fact that I’d barely gotten any sleep, I was looking forward to the meeting with Reuben. I needed something else to focus on, something, anything that would take up space in my brain and force Jack back into the mental box he belonged in.
While I hadn’t paid a ton of attention to the tour Reuben had given us when we’d first arrived, I recalled enough to find the kitchen. A spread was laid out on the island in the center of the room, and I helped myself to a large cup of coffee with cream and enough sugar that the spoon could almost stand up on its own and a slab of ham and spinach quiche.
“Good morning. You must be Cal.” A small woman with dark gray hair pulled back in a tight bun strode into the kitchen from a room on the opposite side from where I was sitting. “I’m Evelyn, Reuben’s housekeeper and private chef.”
She crossed the room, and I stood, shaking the hand she offered. “I am. Cal Hunter. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Evelyn nodded. “I’ve known your grandmother for a long time. Forgive me for saying so, but you look just like your father. May he rest in peace.”
I never knew what to say when someone mentioned my parents. I’d been very young when they’d died on a job in some desert somewhere. If I tried really hard, I think I had one memory of them, but at this point, I wasn’t sure if it was real or just something I thought I remembered after seeing pictures. It was strange being thrust into a world that had known them before their deaths.
Since I had nothing to offer about a man I barely remembered, I commented on something concrete. “Did you make this?” I pointed to the last bites of quiche I had left on my plate.
