Page 12 of I Hate Myself For Loving You (Wolf Mates #7)

Chapter Nine

T he Adams house was quiet, too quiet with everyone off seeing Julia and Xavier’s new baby in Manhasset. They’d named her Catalina and according to JC after her phone call to Avery, she didn’t appear to be lion or werewolf. The nature of little Catalina’s shifter form might take years to develop.

Avery decided one last trip to Lassiter’s in her wolf form was in order. For whatever reason, he seemed to feel comfortable talking to “Princess,” and finding out about this letter was essential to finding out what Lassiter was doing here in Cedar Glen.

She didn’t know why it was so important, but it had to be the key to unlock this last door and save The Adams land. It was also the key to finding the old Lassiter and that had become as important as stopping him from building the condos.

She admitted to herself that she hoped Lassiter would take her up on her offer to talk. For old time’s sake, if nothing else.

Her paws were silent as she crept up the back stairs to Lassiter’s sliding glass door. Again, he was with Bud, talking to him as if he were a human being.

His dark hair was ruffled and he looked tired, peering at the bird, sitting on top of its cage.

There was a well-worn sheet of paper sprawled out on the kitchen table, scattered amongst the blueprints of the Adams’ land.

“Well, pal, we got trouble. I don’t know where else to go from here, but I swear to you, we’ll find a way.

” Lassiter’s statement was vehement, said with a conviction she saw written all over his face.

It was in his body language, tense and rigid.

Damn it, this was frustrating. A way to what and to whom?

Focusing her mind on the task at hand, Avery scratched at the back door.

The light came on and Lassiter popped open the slider. His smile once again warm and welcoming. If only he looked at her like that when she was in human form.

Her heart shifted when he knelt down at the opening of the door and put his hand out to her tentatively.

Avery let her muzzle rest in his palm for a brief, lingering moment before pushing past him and into the trailer.

“You’re hungry, aren’t you?” he stated with a degree of smugness in his tone, picking up the bowl from the floor and bringing it to the refrigerator.

Yeah, bring on the bacon , she thought, admiring his tall frame as he buried his head in the fridge.

“I knew you’d be back. So whatcha been up to, Princess?”

A little of this, a little of that. You know, dog-like stuff. Bone burying. Cat chasing. ‘Cause I’m a dog. An honest to goodness dog .

Who was she convincing here?

He chuckled as he filled a bowl. “I went looking for you the other night. You sure are a quick one. You just disappeared. But it’s okay, I’m glad you came back.” Stooping, he ran his fingers over her back, hand over hand.

Even in were form it felt damned good. Shaking her head, her ears snapping, she forced herself to stay on task.

Find the letter.

No pining for Lassiter.

In that order and no variation thereof.

Lassiter tugged at the end of her ear and pulled it upward. “Do your ears bother you? Mites, maybe? I think have something that would help.”

She let a low growl out to warn him that wasn’t a good idea. Next, he’d want to milk her anal glands or something. After all, JC had taken Max to be spayed.

“Okay, not today.” Lassiter pointed to the food. “You gonna eat? I can’t figure how you got to be so picky. Strays usually don’t demand human food,” he teased, holding the bowl up under her nose.

She made a hacking noise, bringing the sound from deep within her throat.

Which wasn’t hard, considering he was offering her leftover Hamburger Helper.

Avery moved her nose in the other direction, lifting her muzzle to display to him her displeasure at his culinary choices.

“Wow, Princess, you are picky. But you know what? It’s okay. I went and got you some canned food.” He went to the lower cabinet and pulled out a can of Decadent Dogs with a pleased smile.

Oh, yay. Spare no expense for the stray, huh? Avery decided to avoid eating dog food, more exploration was in order, so being the dog she was hoping to portray, she sniffed the floor.

Beginning in the kitchen, she worked her way out to the small living room.

Someone needed to break out the vacuum. Hector’s rabbit could quite possibly mate with the dust bunnies Lassiter had under his couch.

He followed closely behind her. “Are you looking for that sock? You wanna play, Princess?”

Oh, Hell’s bells, spare her from the sock game. She’d be fucked and feathered before she’d put his damned sock in her mouth again.

It had an unpleasant aftertaste that lingered.

“C’mere, pretty. Come sit next to me and let’s talk,” Lassiter coaxed with his cajoling tone and beseeching eyes.

Talk? Yes! Let’s have a real gab-fest.

Her ears perked as she took her place beside him on the floor where he sprawled out and patted his chest with a welcoming smile.

This man’s best friend thing was going a bit too far.

“C’mon, Princess. Come sit with me.” Again, he patted his chest, calling her to him.

Avery harrumphed and blew out a snort, flopping down on his chest and looking him in the eye.

Shoot, he was good looking.

“So, where’d you run off to the other night? You don’t look like you’re any worse for the wear because of it. As a matter of fact, your coat is so shiny and clean. What shampoo do you use?” he teased, stroking her back.

Her back foot thumped with a will of its own. Oh, dayuum that felt good.

“You like that?”

Yes, please, may I have another ?

Her eyelids grew heavy, but as Lassiter prattled on, she fought to stay awake.

“So, have you given any thought to coming and living with me and Bud? Bud’s a special case, too, just like you.”

Special case? A special case of what? Lunacy?

“He needs me.”

Huh?

Tilting her head to the left, Avery hoped he saw the confusion in her eyes, because he was lookin’ kinda nutty.

“I know, you don’t understand, but Bud is special to me. His real name isn’t even Bud. It’s Drake. He’s my brother.” Lassiter’s handsome face looked into her canine one and he winked.

His brother? This vampire was short a bat wing. He thought a bird was his brother.

“It’s a long story, but I have a letter that says so,” he assured her.

From who ? A letter that said Bud was his brother? Who would write a letter like that? The National Pigeons Society for Reunification of Vampires and Their Winged Counterparts? This was all too much.

It explained everything about this new, angry unapproachable Lassiter.

He’d gone bloomin’ mad.

As much as she missed him, as much as she wished it could be like it once was, it couldn’t. Because Lassiter Adams thought his brother was a flippin’ bird, and that was on par with the need for a nice comfy couch and a trained psychiatrist.

Maybe even medication.

In large doses.

But he was so damn cute, even as a complete nut.

Digging in his pocket, he pulled out a well-worn piece of paper. Obviously, he’d fingered it on many occasions. It was the kind you’d use in a spiral notebook, lined and frayed at the ripped edges. He held it up. “This was from my mother and father. It’s why I’m here, Princess.”

Jackpot, bingo and all the other stuff you yelled when you hit the big one.

Come to mama…