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Kennedy…
“So what happens now?” Kennedy sat on top of the picnic table in the Wolf lady’s backyard. The woman’s kids swarmed their small play set, swinging wildly from the monkey bars, taking chances that would have made her mother run screaming out of the house. Self destruction seemed to be an accepted part of Wolf culture. When the smallest boy, only four, launched himself from his swing seat on his upswing, Kennedy stood up.
Terry rested his meaty hand on her thigh to keep her from running forward. When the kid landed light as a cat and dropped into a dinosaur stance and roared, he grinned ruefully at her.
Kennedy asked, “Do her kids have rubber for bones?”
The big man shrugged and drew her closer. Terry looped a solid, warm arm around her. She sat so close to him that her hip brushed his. He gestured to the kids and then arched an eyebrow. He held up one finger, then two, then five. Kennedy grabbed his hand and forced his fingers down. She hesitated as she left the one finger up. Teasing her, he slowly lifted a second finger.
Kennedy blew out a puff of air. “Maybe two.” She straightened her shirt. “Let’s see if we survive having one.”
His chuckle was low and warm. Relaxed against his side, Kennedy said, “I’m destroying her tub, but I’m not trying to.”
Terry pressed a kiss to her temple. “Home?”
“Would they let us go? Now that Mom and Nana are on the boat…” She rested the back of her head against his shoulder. “I’d like to sleep somewhere where I don’t have to worry every night about harming someone.”
The home owner’s oldest boy swung by one arm from the top bar as his little sister tried to hit him from below with a stick. He kept lifting his long bony legs out of her reach. Kennedy sighed and resisted the urge to scold the children. “I’d be content with the root cellar about now.” An amazing amount of noise came out of the three children’s bodies. Is this what they had to look forward to? Constant chaos?
Stolen story; please report.
Terry gave her a gentle, fond squeeze.
Beyond the chain-link fence, the Wolf she had healed, Rig, watched them with one hand resting on the railing. He hesitated before swinging the gate open and approached them. The man was too young to look so somber. The damage and healing had added years to his face. He wore his pain like a shadow under the skin. The thought of the heat of his rib cage encircling her hand and the pulse of his heart against her knuckles was a memory that lingered close to the surface of her thoughts, easily triggered.
He approached them with a stiffness in how he moved that was unlike the fluid, sinuous stride of the other wolves. In time, maybe, he would regain some freedom around his core.
Rig asked, “You are leaving?”
Kennedy looked from the man to Terry. Their damn ears.
The big man beside her nodded.
Rig brushed the back of his knuckles across his unshaven jaw, skimming the stubble. “If it’s not too inconvenient, I’d like to join you.”
“Why in the hell would you want to do that?” Kennedy asked.
A faint touch of pink bloomed across his throat. “It’s about what I owe you.” His dark eyes were serious as he looked at her. “A life is not a small thing. I’d like to help protect you and yours as a small repayment toward my dept.”
Kennedy lifted her chin. “Is that a pretty way to say that you pulled the short stick and have to be the spy that monitors us?”
Her words made him smile, as if the salt in her tone didn’t sting at all. “I wasn’t even allowed to draw a straw when that chore was assigned.” He stiffly shrugged. The rise of his shoulders was limited. “I’m useless until I heal more. The best task I could hope for would be Nanny duty to repay what our time here has cost the home owner.” He folded his arms. “I’m not very good with kids.”
“What are you good for, then?” Kennedy glared at the young man.
Rig winced, and she regretted the tone she had used. Kennedy reached out, and he drew back just out of the reach of her touch. “I didn’t mean that. The way you have healed is like a miracle.”
Rig closed his eyes and slowly opened them. “If you want the truth.” He took a deep breath. “I still need you. In the next few weeks, there will be painful and risky changes ahead of me when I return to my heart shape. If you will help me… I will be in your dept.” He gestured with one hand a bit hopelessly. “Even further than I already am.” Rig quirked a small smile. “Do you need a nanny?”
She settled one hand on her belly. “Not yet, but I might.” Kennedy looked toward Terry. He gave her the smallest of nods. She settled back against his side. “Do you think your mom is going to give me the same speech she gave you about taking in strays?”