Page 13 of Noah (Pecan Pines #4)

Chapter 13

Noah

The scent of sizzling bacon and fresh coffee filled my apartment, wrapping around me like a warm embrace.

But what truly caught my attention wasn’t the breakfast itself—it was Jackson standing in my kitchen, moving with a confidence that left me utterly mesmerized.

I leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching as he flipped pancakes with an ease that spoke of experience.

“I didn’t know you could cook,” I commented.

Jackson shot me a grin over his shoulder. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me yet.”

Yet. The word sent a pleasant shiver down my spine. When he turned back to the stove, I let my gaze linger.

I took in the way the morning light traced the strong lines of his back, the way he moved with effortless control.

It was such a simple thing—cooking breakfast—but somehow, it felt… intimate.

Like this was something we could do every morning, waking up together, sharing these quiet moments before the day pulled us in different directions.

When he finally plated everything and set it in front of me, I had to admit—I was impressed.

“This looks amazing,” I said, eyeing the golden pancakes, the crisp bacon, and the perfectly scrambled eggs.

Jackson smirked. “I accept compliments in the form of kisses.”

I rolled my eyes but leaned in anyway, pressing a slow kiss to the corner of his mouth.

His lips curved under mine, and for a moment, I was tempted to abandon breakfast altogether.

But the rumble of my stomach betrayed me, and Jackson chuckled, pulling back just enough to let me eat.

As I took my first bite, I let out a satisfied hum.

“Okay, you might be better at this than me,” I told him.

“Might?” he teased, arching an eyebrow.

“Fine, you are better than me,” I conceded, shaking my head. “I’m almost insulted.”

Jackson chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. “I’ll make it up to you by letting you cook tomorrow.”

“Generous of you,” I said dryly, making him laugh.

We fell into comfortable conversation as we ate, the kind that felt easy and natural. But then Jackson set his fork down and gave me a thoughtful look.

“You planning on participating in the run, I mean the Hunt?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No. I help oversee the event and handle the preparations, but I don’t actually compete.”

Jackson hummed, considering that. “That makes sense. But what if we went on a run? Just the two of us.”

I looked at him, caught off guard by the suggestion. “A run?”

“Yeah,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “I want to shift with you. Just us. No summit, no packs, no responsibilities. Just running.”

The idea settled into my mind, and I found myself picturing it—our wolves moving in sync.

The world fading away as we ran through the forest together, no expectations, no pressure. Just us.

I liked the idea. A lot.

A slow smile pulled at my lips. “That sounds… perfect.”

Jackson grinned, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand. “Then it’s a date.”

When we arrived at the pack lands together, walking side by side. I noticed the way some of my pack mates glanced at us, their curiosity clear.

Same with Jackson’s pack. It wasn’t surprising—we hadn’t exactly made a public announcement about whatever this was between us.

Dating? Courting? We were wrestling with something, that much was certain.

And honestly? I didn’t mind letting everyone know.

Sneaking around wasn’t ideal anyway, and if anything, I wanted them to see. I wanted them to understand that Jackson and I were… something real.

So when we reached the area behind the pack house, where the packs were gathered, I reached for Jackson’s hand.

He didn’t hesitate, threading his fingers through mine, his grip warm and steady. A few heads turned, but I ignored them. Let them see.

Eventually, though, we had to part. I was needed elsewhere, and so was he. But I was reluctant to let go, and judging by the way Jackson hesitated, he felt the same.

Still, duty called.

I made my way to one of the stations, where my pack mates were taking attendance for the Hunt.

Someone handed me a checklist, and I busied myself with marking names, grateful that at least I wasn’t responsible for Adrian’s pack.

That would have been a nightmare.

Griffin was nearby, talking to another pack mate about how this year’s event was different from the older version of the Hunt.

“Used to be about taking down the most prey animals,” Griffin said. “Now it’s just a race between shifters.”

I nodded in approval. “I think it makes the event more fun and lighter,” I added, checking off another name.

Griffin hummed in agreement.

But then, nearby, I overheard a voice that made my stomach tighten.

“This year’s Hunt is a damn joke,” Adrian was saying, loud enough for everyone to hear.

I glanced over and saw him standing with Karl, his expression one of clear disdain.

Karl shrugged. “Guess they don’t want us tearing into their precious deer anymore,” Karl pointed out.

Adrian scoffed. “Pathetic.”

Before I could stop myself, my gaze met Adrian’s. He smirked, his eyes glinting with amusement, and then—because of course he would—he winked.

I quickly turned back to my checklist, pretending I hadn’t seen him.

Griffin chuckled under his breath. “Subtle,” he muttered.

I sighed, shaking my head. “Don’t start.”

Griffin held up his hands in surrender, but the knowing look on his face was irritating.

I refocused on my task, but even as I worked, my mind kept drifting back to Jackson.

A run. Just the two of us. I couldn’t wait.

The energy crackled in the air as the shifters began undressing, preparing to shift.

Laughter and murmured conversations filled the space as pack members stuffed their clothes into baskets and storage boxes assigned to their respective starting areas.

It was an organized chaos of bare skin and anticipation, muscles tensing in excitement for the upcoming race.

My gaze, however, was drawn to one person.

Jackson.

He stood a few paces away, his body bathed in the golden morning light, muscles taut and ready.

His broad shoulders, powerful arms, the defined ridges of his abdomen—I could still feel the heat of his skin against mine.

I could still recall the way he’d held me the night before, the slow drag of his fingertips along my back, the way his lips had traced a path down my throat.

My stomach tightened with the memory, my face growing warm.

As if sensing my eyes on him, Jackson turned. His dark gaze locked onto mine, the heat simmering in his expression sending a thrill through my body.

The corner of his lips tilted up, almost like he knew exactly what I was thinking.

For a brief, reckless moment, I wondered if he’d just stride up to me and kiss me in front of everyone. My pulse jumped at the thought, my face flushing even more.

Then Jackson took a step toward me.

My breath caught.

But before he could get any closer, one of his brothers grabbed his attention, saying something that made Jackson pause.

I exhaled, forcing myself to look away.

I scanned the gathered shifters, noting the mix of excitement and competitive tension in the air.

The race wasn’t just about speed—it was a goodwill event, a chance for the different packs to foster camaraderie.

Unlike the old version of the hunt, which focused on taking down prey animals for sport, this was purely a race—a test of agility, endurance, and strategy.

But some shifters weren’t interested in camaraderie.

A whistle pierced the air, signaling the start of the race.

A blur of fur and muscle shot forward as wolves shifted in rapid succession, powerful forms taking off across the open field and into the dense forest beyond.

My eyes immediately found Adrian, already barrelling through the crowd, his powerful wolf shoving aside anyone in his way.

I grimaced. He didn’t even try to hide it. Pack mates, rival wolves—it didn’t matter. Adrian wanted to win, and he didn’t care who he trampled to get there.

Karl and his usual lackeys weren’t far behind him, but I noticed Carter moving differently from the rest of Adrian’s pack.

While the others focused on brute force, Carter was reeling in their weaker pack mates, making sure they weren’t left behind.

Interesting. Maybe not all of Adrian’s pack shared his cutthroat attitude.

The race intensified, wolves dodging and weaving through the terrain, pushing themselves to their limits.

But my attention snapped back to Adrian just in time to see him pull another dirty move.

He and Karl flanked a smaller wolf from another pack, shoving him aside. The young wolf yelped as he hit the ground hard.

Adrian snapped at his neck, not enough to seriously wound, but enough to make the wolf scramble back in fear. Karl then lunged at the smaller wolf.

I saw blood.

A sharp cry tore from my throat. The smaller wolf lay on the ground, injured, his pack mates snarling in warning. They wanted revenge.

Jackson was already there, stepping between them, trying to de-escalate the situation before it turned into an all-out brawl.

But Adrian’s arrogance had finally pushed things too far. The tension snapped like a bowstring, and snarls erupted as shifters squared off.

Griffin and the other Pecan Pines enforcers rushed in, forcing the situation under control.

The air was thick with barely restrained violence, wolves bristling, muscles coiled. But Adrian? He barely spared the injured wolf a glance.

Instead, Adrian resumed running as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn’t just almost started a war between packs.

And he crossed the finish line first.

I hadn’t even finished processing my frustration before Adrian trotted right up to me, his fur sleek with sweat.

My first instinct was to step back, but I caught myself just in time. I knew Adrian well enough to know that retreating would only encourage him.

He shifted, standing before me in his human form, utterly unabashed. I kept my gaze firmly on his face, ignoring the rest of him.

"Did you see that, Noah?" Adrian asked, smug. "First place."

I exhaled slowly. "I saw."

Adrian grinned. "Gonna reward me for winning?"

I opened my mouth, already prepared to shut him down, but before I could get a word out, Adrian leaned forward—and kissed me.

Shock paralyzed me.

The world tilted, my mind going blank for a fraction of a second before I heard a familiar, furious roar behind me.

Jackson.

Adrian barely had time to smirk before I shoved him back, the force of it sending him stumbling a step. My pulse pounded as anger surged through me.

"What the hell do you think you’re doing?" I demanded.

Adrian shrugged, utterly unbothered.

"Since you seem undecided, I figured I’d just claim my reward. And we both know you want me,” Adrian said, smirking.

I stared at him, incredulous. Was he actually deluded?

I took a breath, steadied myself.

"I’m not interested in you. Not now, not ever. And if you were even a half-decent alpha, you’d take responsibility for what you just did out there. You nearly turned this event into a bloodbath,” I pointed out.

Adrian scoffed. "My pack can handle any conflict. Or any enemies."

I clenched my jaw, but before I could respond, Jackson was suddenly at my side, his presence a wall of heat and fury.

Jackson was human again, and just as naked as Adrian.

He didn’t hesitate. He grabbed my waist and pulled me firmly against him, his grip possessive and sure. I let him, wanting Adrian to see that I was spoken for.

Adrian’s gaze darkened. "You have no right questioning my decisions, Jackson. You’re not my second.”

Jackson’s voice was low, almost a growl. "No, but I know you didn’t earn that title fairly."

The weight of his words settled like a storm cloud. A subtle, dangerous accusation. Adrian’s face remained impassive, but something flickered in his eyes.

I felt the tension rising again, felt the situation inching toward something irreversible. So I placed my hand on Jackson’s arm, grounding him.

Adrian watched us too intently, his gaze lingering longer than I liked. Then, with a lazy smirk, he stepped back.

"I have better things to do," Adrian said. "Like claim my real prize for winning."

With that, he turned and strode away.

Jackson exhaled sharply, his grip on me tightening before he turned me to face him fully. "Are you okay?"

I nodded. "I can stand my ground, Jackson."

I needed him to understand that I could now fight my own battles. That I didn’t need him to come to my defence all the time.

His expression softened. "I don’t doubt that for a second. But it took all of my willpower not to tear him apart."

I smiled, brushing my fingers along his jaw. "I appreciate the restraint."

Jackson let out a breath, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction.

Then, without warning, he pulled me in, capturing my lips in a kiss that was all heat and certainty.

It was a declaration.

And I kissed him back, just as certain, just as fierce.