Page 15 of Nick (The Moonstone Pack #4)
AS NICK WATCHED SARAH trembling, tasted her on his lips, the distant sound of laughter and footsteps crept in from outside.
Instantly alert, Nick stilled, his wolf’s acute hearing distinguishing the voices approaching—their son Javier’s cheerful tone mingling with Una’s comments.
The unmistakable sound of Javier’s excitement pierced through the thin walls of the trailer, his small voice animated. “Mama, I drew a wolf, like us!”
The words were like ice water dousing the lingering flames of passion that still danced beneath Nick’s skin.
“Shit,” he whispered, his voice a harsh whisper of urgency. The real world, with all its complications and expectations, pressed in on them.
They couldn’t let Javier or Una suspect what just transpired between them. Not now. Not yet.
He leaped from his knees, the urgency of their situation propelling him forward. Sarah, too, was a flurry of movement, her long dark hair wild as she pushed herself upright.
“Quick, we can’t let them see us like this,” Sarah whispered.
“Mommy, I want to show you my art!” Javier’s voice grew louder, closer.
Nick could picture his son’s dimpled smile, the joy radiating from his little being, and it fueled his actions.
He snatched their shirts from the floor and tossed Sarah’s to her. Muscles flexed beneath his skin as he hastily buttoned up, movements swift and precise.
“Where are my boots?” Sarah whispered, her eyes wide. She was a vision of disarray, her dark hair tousled, her blouse askew. Nick watched for a breath too long, entranced by the sight of her trying to realign her world after the tempest he’d unleashed on her.
“Under the bed,” he said, voice low. He bent to retrieve them, one hand bracing against the mattress, aware of every curve and corner of Sarah’s body as she leaned over him.
Their fingers brushed as he handed her the boots, a jolt of electricity sparking between them. It was enough to remind him of the passion that had consumed them, the way her body arched, seeking, demanding, surrendering.
“Thanks,” she breathed out, slipping on her footwear with practiced haste.
“Anytime,” he said, his response automatic, though his mind replayed the map of her sighs and soft pleas.
The front door rattled. Nick’s gaze snapped to the window. With a last glance at Sarah, whose brown eyes held a storm of emotions he dared not decipher, he lunged for the bathroom.
The door clicked open just as he shut the bathroom behind him, the space suddenly claustrophobic.
His reflection in the mirror was a man caught between worlds—human and wolf, lust and love, past hurt and present desire.
Nick’s nostrils flared as he struggled to calm his racing pulse, to silence the call of the wild that urged him to claim Sarah, to mark her as his own before the pack, before the world.
But Javier’s voice, full of innocence and wonder, caught his attention. Nick shoved his feet into his boots without untying them.
“Nick?” Sarah’s voice echoed outside the door.
“Be right out,” he managed to say.
The heat of her touch still burned on his skin, each point of contact a searing brand of the love he couldn’t seem to extinguish—love that had once been the cornerstone of his existence before it turned into the ashes of betrayal.
His wolf snarled within him, craving her.
But Nick was no mere beast ruled by instinct.
“Dammit,” he muttered under his breath.
The scent of Sarah lingered, an intoxicating desert wildflower. It taunted him, promising ecstasy and agony in equal measure.
She cannot unravel me , he reminded himself. I can’t afford to lose myself in her. Not again.
Nick straightened his spine and turned the knob of the bathroom door.
He would wear a mask of indifference.
No matter how much it hurt.
Nick stepped into the cool interior of Sarah’s living room. His gaze settled on Sarah, her eyes meeting his briefly before darting away, the tension in her frame speaking volumes.
“Hey,” he said, his voice strained with the effort it took to sound casual.
Una offered him a small nod from her armchair. But it was the tiny figure beside Sarah that caught his full attention.
Javier stood there, a miniature mirror of both parents, his tousled dark blond hair falling over brown eyes shining with excitement. In his small hands, he clutched a piece of paper, creased from being held too tightly.
“Look, Nick!” Javier exclaimed, rushing forward. “I made this at the festival.”
The little boy’s words cut through the tense atmosphere, drawing a half smile from Nick despite himself. He knelt down to meet Javier’s height, gently taking the offered art.
“Let’s see what you’ve got here,” Nick murmured, his focus narrowing on the crayon scribbles. “Is that a wolf?”
“Yes.” Javier turned to Una. “See? Nick can tell. I told that lady it was a wolf.”
Una laughed. “Yes, you did.”
Nick chuckled, ruffling the boy’s hair affectionately. “You did a great job.”
Javier’s dimples deepened, and he shuffled closer. “Do you think I could be an artist when I grow up?”
“Absolutely,” Nick responded without hesitation. “Anyone who can put this much heart into their work is already an artist in my book.”
Javier beamed, and Nick met Sarah’s gaze again.
God. He could love this child.
He did love this child.
As he handed the artwork back to Javier, Nick felt the truth settle in his heart. No matter how far he ran or how deep his wounds, this was his family. And maybe it was time to let go of old grudges, start anew.
Before he could further consider the depth of those feelings, the sharp ping of his cell phone cut through the moment, breaking the spell as it vibrated. Nick blinked and reached for the device, the screen lighting up with a message that demanded his immediate attention.
“Something important?” Sarah asked, her gaze shifting from him to the phone and back again.
“Could be,” Nick muttered.
His thumb pressed against the illuminated screen, his gaze scanning it.
“It’s Ryker,” he said. Sarah and Una turned to him, their expressions mirroring the sudden shift in the room’s atmosphere.
“Is everything all right?” Sarah’s voice wove a thread of concern through the tension.
“I think so,” Nick replied, a muscle ticking in his jaw. He stood. “I’ve got to head into town,” he announced. “Conall and Quinton are waiting.”
Sarah’s gaze locked onto his. “Wait,” she said, rising from the couch. “I’ll come with you.”
He hesitated, considering the risks of having her by his side.
“Okay,” he finally said, and Nick led the way to Sarah’s old Jeep.
The engine roared to life, its headlights carving a path through the darkness as they left the trailer park.
With every mile that passed, anxiety tightened its hold on Nick—a silent question echoing in his mind. Had he made a mistake by crossing that line with Sarah?
He remembered the heat of her skin, the taste of her lips, and the way her body responded to his touch as if nothing had changed.
But everything had changed.
He could still taste the salt of her skin, feel the brush of her hair against his face. The intensity of their connection both thrilled and terrified him. It was like playing with fire, and he wasn’t sure if they’d end up consumed or forged stronger by the heat.
“Are you okay?” Sarah asked.
“Yeah,” he lied, turning his gaze briefly from the road to meet her eyes. Nick forced a partial smile, but his heart was racing.
“Is it us?” Her words were barely a whisper, but they landed with the weight of boulders. “Do you regret…”
He wanted to reassure her, to say everything was fine, but the lie wouldn’t come. Instead, he exhaled slowly, focusing on the road that stretched out before them.
“I just…” His voice trailed off as he searched for the right words.
Was it regret or fear that clawed at him?
Fear of losing himself to her again, of opening old wounds that had only just begun to heal?
So much for a mask of indifference , he thought wryly.
“Let’s just focus on getting Conall and Quinton back safely,” he said at last, avoiding the depth of her gaze. “We’ll deal with…everything else later.”
As he pressed down on the gas, sending the Jeep lurching forward, he couldn’t shake the feeling that they were hurtling toward something inevitable.
But for now, all he could do was move forward.
Right?