Page 4 of Fae Devoted (Fae Touched #3)

“I haven’t noticed any difference. And didn’t you tell me a couple of days ago my hair was pretty?” Her eyes crossed as she examined the healthy strands. “Wait, is that a split-end?”

Tucker laughed, and damn, it felt good. Jo had a gift for making everyone around her happy. It was one reason she excelled at her job. She was good with people and great with him. He would miss her when he had to leave. Because permission or not, he was going after his brother.

Jo released her hair and sank into her chair, crossing her arms with a loud huff. “Hardy har har,” she said with a scowl that quivered suspiciously. “Funny male.”

“I try.”

“Try harder.” She grinned and flung a random pen at his head.

He easily dodged it.

Jo powered off her computer and stood, her gaze dropping to the cold drink dangling from his fingertips. “Is that smoothie for me?”

“Isn’t it always?”

“Strawberry-banana?”

He nodded. It was her favorite.

Tucker bent to retrieve Jo’s makeshift projectile and placed it with the other multi-colored pens in the ceramic coffee mug printed with the Mud Island logo of an illuminated Hernando de Soto Bridge.

“I brought you something too.” She walked the few feet to the office’s mini-refrigerator and dipped into a crouch. Her full skirt billowed, the lace hem brushing the floor as she retrieved a glass pan with a red-silicone lid. She rose with equal grace. “Baklava.”

After Jo unearthed Tucker’s weakness for sweets, she lavished him with her homemade sugary treats, sometimes using them to get her way. Baklava was his favorite, but he knew it was a time-consuming dish to make.

“What do you want?”

“Why do I have to have an ulterior motive?” She balanced the dish in one hand and grabbed her purse with the other, expression wide-eyed and innocent. “Maybe I wanted to spoil you.”

“Jo,” he warned, exchanging the yogurt smoothie for the square pan.

“Okay, okay, there might be a little something,” she conceded, leading him into the hallway and locking the door behind them. “Did I mention I made the phyllo dough from scratch?”

“Who do I have to kill?” He could count on one hand how many times Jo baked this particular dessert since she moved to the island.

Jo smacked him in the stomach.

He oomph’d and rubbed his firm gut as if her light slap hurt.

“Oh, puh-lease ,” She wrinkled her freckled nose at his dramatics. “It’s a tiny favor. Minuscule. It’s not even for me. Not entirely.”

She turned toward the lobby, sucking loudly on the smoothie’s straw.

“Quit stalling.”

“It’s no big deal.” She refused to meet his eyes, steps quickening.

“Bak-la-va.” It was worth repeating.

“Mom and I want to watch the new romantic comedy tonight, and Dad’s pushing hard for the latest action flick starring that stone guy.”

Stone guy? “You mean The Rock?”

“Stone…rock, whatever. The point is, we need your vote. If I have to watch the sequel to The Godfather again, I’ll scream.”

He hid another smile. “Your sire is next in the rotation.”

The Long family held movie night in their home every other Thursday, and for the past six months, Tucker joined them whenever he could.

Unless Jo’s older siblings were visiting for the weekend, the even gender dynamic often led to draws which were broken by the alternative selection rule.

In the result of a tie, they took turns choosing a classic to end the stalemate.

Ellis Long chose The Godfather II every single time.

“You could vote on the action film and avoid the substitute pick altogether.”

“Jacob, please? I promise to side with your choice next time.”

Would he even be here next time?

Jo stopped at the Complex’s front exit and stuck out her pretty bottom lip in an exaggerated pout.

Tucker wanted to bite that lip, then soothe the sting with his tongue, but he didn’t have the right.

Might never have the right now that he had to chase after his brother and somehow circumvent Daimhín’s influence without getting them both killed.

Tucker forced his thoughts away from things he couldn’t have, at least not yet. “A romcom, huh?”

“I used walnut and pistachios.”

“Roger’s honey?” The human beekeeper harvested the best in the territory.

“Who else would I use?”

He opened the glass door, and Jo walked outside.

“Drizzled extra over the top too.” She skipped down the steps, confident in the belief she’d already won.

And she had.

Tucker followed, his heart squeezing tight. He would do almost anything to make his she-wolf happy. Except she wasn’t his , was she?

“So,” Jo’s gaze dropped to the pavement, her pace slowing as they walked side by side to her nearby apartment, “I was wondering if you still planned on coming to the majority party next Friday?”

Tucker grunted.

“You are coming, right?” She stopped in front of her building, eyes remaining on her feet.

“I’ll try.” If they discovered Jeremiah’s location prior to the celebration at Chess, he’d have to leave before the trail went cold.

“But…” Her brows lowered, the smoothie straw pushing in and out of its lid so fast it squelched. Her mouth closed, opened, and closed again. A frown marred her pretty face.

“If I can be there, I will be.” How could he even consider missing one of the most significant milestones in Jo’s life?

She nodded but didn’t look up.

Tucker tilted her chin with a finger, bringing her gorgeous hazel gaze to his. “I want to be there, Jo.”

I want you. Forever.

“Okay,” she said after a long pause, then smiled at him. “I’ll see you later tonight at Mom’s and Dad’s, right?”

He shouldn’t go. It wasn’t fair to act as though nothing had changed when everything had.

“Yeah.” He dropped his hand to his side, his other holding Jo’s bribe. He should start pulling away for Jo’s sake, but he was a selfish bastard. He didn’t want to forfeit these last precious moments as the hunt for his brother might keep him away from his she-wolf for a long time.

They climbed the outdoor stairs to her second-floor apartment, and Jo inserted the key. “Great, we can meet at your house, and you can show me around. I’ve been dying to see it. I can’t believe you’ve made me wait this long.”

She didn’t notice him stiffen.

“I’m coming straight from work.” he hedged, mouth dry. “I’ll show you another time.”

“But I haven’t seen it since they started the renovation.” Jo spun to face him, the pout real this time.

“It’s a mess.” He purchased the home last spring, and it’d taken the entire summer to remodel the outdated house to his specifications. Tucker had only moved from his apartment a week ago, but none of those reasons had anything to do with why he kept Jo away.

“Mom and I offered to help you unpack boxes, but you turned us down flat.”

“I wanted—”

“Us to see it finished. So you said…repeatedly.” She sighed and stepped into her small rental. “I guess I can wait a few more days.”

“Thanks again for the baklava,” he said, returning to the street, avoiding another half-truth. She wouldn’t be seeing his new place anytime soon.

“Just remember our bargain, Jacob Tucker,” she called after him. “I own your vote.”

Jo owned more than that. She owned him—and always would.