Page 34

CHAPTER 34

A shley

“Mike?” I call out as I step out onto the front porch of Chance and Emery’s house.

After running back to the commune in my wolf form, I ran to the house to get a new change of clothes, before heading back into the mountains alone.

I spent hours exploring the caves and landscape of the mountain that surround the Nightwolf compound. I ended up losing track of time.

I left my cell phone at Emery’s house on purpose. Now all I want to do is to see Christophe.

“What are you doing here?”

Mike instantly smiles. “I’m escorting you to your meeting place tonight.”

“Huh? You mean the spot where we typically meet?” I’m so confused. “It’s only about a quarter of a mile from here. I know the way,” I remind him.

“Yes, but he didn’t want you walking out there alone.”

“He?”

Mike nods. “He’s made special arrangements.”

A hundred questions pop off in my mind. But instead of asking them, I allow Mike to lead me from the house out to the woods that I’ve become so familiar with. A niggling in my gut tells me there’s something special about tonight’s meeting.

Though, any time I get with Christophe is special. At the same time this thought passes through my mind, the longing for more than stolen moments with him wells up in my chest.

“Are you okay?” Mike looks down at me in concern.

I may have let out that whimper from both me and my wolf.

“Fine,” I say with as much cheeriness as I can muster. The truth is, the blowup I had with Emery and the longing for more with Christophe is all weighing on me.

Mike nods. “We’re almost there.”

Minutes later, we pass through the trees to come to the opening beside the river. I gasp and stop, moving behind Mike when I notice Christophe standing there, facing us.

“What are you doing?” I call out.

“It’s okay,” Mike assures. “He’s wearing a blindfold.”

My eyebrows bunch in curious confusion.

Mike moves aside and encourages me forward.

“Ashley?”

His voice alone calls to me, and I take a step in Christophe’s direction. When I finally look at him again, it’s to see him standing there, hand outstretched, waiting for me. And Mike didn’t lie, Christophe’s eyes are covered by a dark blindfold.

I go to him, placing my hand in his.

As soon as I do, he tugs me forward. Air whooshes from my lungs as he wraps me up in his arms and seals our embrace with a kiss.

The arm banded around my waist tightens, as if a silent vow of never letting me go. At least, that’s the conclusion I choose to come to while I take pleasure in the way his mouth covers mine, teasing and exploring.

Christophe’s kiss elicits a moan from me which makes him chuckle. The deepness of it reverberates through me.

He pulls back, but keeps his arm around my waist. “Happy Birthday,” he whispers, surprising me.

“My birthday?” I blink. “It’s tomorrow.”

His lips spread into a smile as his face hovers above mine. Though his eyes are covered, it’s as if he’s trying to look through the fabric to see me.

I lift my hand to cup the side of his face. He turns his head, kissing my palm. A shiver runs through me.

“It’s tomorrow,” he says when he turns back to me. “Just after midnight, which means it’s your birthday. And I wanted to be the first one to give you a gift.”

My eyes widen upon realizing he’s correct. I spent so much time wandering around the mountains that I lost track of time. It’s already after midnight.

And yes, it’s my birthday.

“Well, you did,” I admit.

But Christophe shakes his head. “I haven’t given you your gift yet.” His lips twitch as if holding in laughter.

“This isn’t my gift?” The kiss would’ve been enough to qualify as a present.

He brings my hand to his lips, kissing it. “Not by a long shot.”

He steps back from in front of me, allowing me to see the display behind him for the first time.

“What’s this?” I laugh as I cup my cheeks with my hands.

There are two brightly colored bean bag chairs seated next to one another. But in between them sits a small table with drinks and a batch of multi-colored popcorn.

“Is that a projector?” I ask, pointing at the black box next to one of the bean bag chairs.

“Yes.” Christophe nods. “I made something for you to see.” He turns and takes me by the elbow, guiding me to one of the chairs.

“Are we watching a movie?”

“Sort of,” he answers. “Sit, first.”

I do as he asks, taking a seat in one of the chairs.

“We have popcorn and your favorite lemon-flavored sodas to drink. I thought you might want something salty first, but?—”

“Is that cake I smell?” I sniff their air, and my mouth starts watering as I scent the baked deliciousness already. “Where is it?” I search around since it’s not sitting on the table among the rest of the snacks.

Christophe chuckles again, and I lift my head to watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he does. He’s so handsome. I could stare at him for hours.

“Mike?” he calls out.

“Right here,” Mike dutifully answers.

I watch as Mike emerges from the shadows with a cake tray in his hands.

“Had to go back to the house to pick this baby up.” Mike sets the tray down on the table after I move the popcorn out of the way.

“Thanks,” Christophe tells him after Mike helps him find his bean bag chair to take a seat.

My heart clutches in my chest. I still hate being the reason Christophe can’t see freely even though his eyes work perfectly fine. Me being here is the reason why he has to wear that blindfold.

“The very sight of you brings him pain.” Emery’s words ring out in my ears.

“Ashley?” Christophe calls out.

“Yeah? Yes?”

“Where did you go?” he asks so tenderly.

I know he doesn’t mean physically. But where did I go inside of my head? It’s a question he would ask me through the concrete wall whenever I got too quiet during a conversation.

“I hate that you have to have that thing over your eyes,” I tell him, freely. “I despise the fact that it’s my fault that we can’t look at one another. That it’s my face that brings you pain. Even months after getting out of that horrible place.”

“Stop it,” he all but growls. “None of this. Nothing at all is your fault. I’ve had enough of people blaming themselves for bullshit that’s not their responsibility for one day.”

His words surprise me.

“Who else are you talking about?”

“Doesn’t matter.” He shakes his head. “What does matter is that I once made you a promise and I intend to keep it.”

I wrinkle my forehead as I try to recall what promise he made to me that he has yet to keep.

“I promised that if we got the chance to explore the place you most wanted to visit in the world, we would.”

I jut my head back as I recall telling him the place I most wanted to visit. “But that’s Hawaii.”

He turns to me with a smile. “The Land of Rainbows.”

My heart swells. There’s no scorn or mocking tone in his voice when he says those words. Not like my adopted mom or kids I thought were my friends would do when I told them the reason I wanted to visit Hawaii.

“I thought I’d bring Hawaii to you.”

I don’t have the opportunity to ask him what he means by that before he reaches for the projector.

“I have to remove my blindfold for this. Don’t move,” he says, halting me as I start to rise from my seat. “I’ll just turn my body this way …”

I watch as he turns his back to me before removing the blindfold. He must switch on the projector because a second later there’s a clicking sound and then a stream of light.

“Look toward the river,” he instructs.

When I turn my head in the direction of the river, a gasp escapes my lips. Right before my eyes is a beautiful scene of water rushing over the side of a cliff, somewhere deep in a jungle.

From the water and the sunlight glinting through the trees, a beautifully arched rainbow expands across the scene. All seven colors of the rainbow are vividly displayed. A mirage of colors dance around the waterfall as exotic birds and butterflies float through the air, completely unbidden.

A sheen of water covers my eyes as my jaw begins to ache from how wide and long I’m smiling. The scene is simply majestic and the exact image I’ve held in my mind all of these years of what Hawaii would look like.

“Oh my!” I cover my mouth with my hand. “Is that …”

I don’t get the question out before two people move in from the bottom right corner of the scene until they’re standing underneath the spray of the waterfall. Both of their backs are to us, but from the multi-colored braids streaming down the back of the woman in a bright pink and orange bathing suit, and the taller man beside her with hair past his shoulders, just like Christophe’s, I know exactly who they’re supposed to be.

“Welcome to the land of rainbows,” Christophe says beside me.

Without turning away from the scene that continues to play out before us, I reach across the table, grabbing his hand and squeezing.

“This is perfect.”

“Not quite,” he replies. “But this is the best I could do for you given the circumstances.” A heaviness weighs on his tone. It pulls at my heartstrings.

“Close your eyes,” I say. “Because I want to kiss you right now and you’ve taken your blindfold off,” I inform him when I can tell he’s on the verge of questioning my motives.

“Are they closed?”

“Mmhm,” he murmurs at the same time he takes a hold of my hand and tugs me toward him, making me laugh.

I rise from the bean bag chair and move to straddle him. Before I can fully adjust myself on his lap, he wraps his hand around the back of my neck, bringing our lips together.

The kiss is slow and sensual. I meant for it to be a thank you for thinking of me, for granting me a gift I’ve always wanted on my birthday, but Christophe takes over the kiss. He pours emotions I can’t even put into words into the kiss.

When he pulls back, he brings both hands to cup my face. I giggle from the feel of him running a finger down the bridge of my nose. Then he moves his forefingers over the lines of my jaw, along my bottom lip, and then down the length of my neck.

Every touch leaves a wake of goosebumps behind. He does this still, after every kiss, tracing the lines and contours of my face as if trying to memorize through touch alone.

I lean in, wanting to feel his lips again, but he pulls back.

“Wait, you still haven’t eaten your cake.”

I blink and look over at the table, remembering the cake.

“Lift the lid off the tray,” he tells me.

I do to reveal a tall, obviously multi-layered cake with half pink icing and half white.

“Ms. Elsie helped me make the strawberry and vanilla icing. The sprinkles are store-bought though.”

His lips form a frown as if he thinks I expected him to somehow make rainbow sprinkles from scratch. How would you even do that?

“It looks perfect,” I say with a smile.

“You haven’t seen the best part yet.” He hesitates for a beat. “I would do the cutting, but, given the circumstance, it might be better for you to cut your own slice.”

I nod in agreement and lift the knife that’s beside the tray. Once I cut a slice of the cake, I see what he means about not having seen the best past.

The interior of the cake is a checkerboard of multiple colors mixed with the ordinary white layers of the vanilla cake.

“It’s the same type of cake Emery used to sneak and buy for you on your birthdays,” he tells me. “The kind your adopted mom didn’t let you have.

“Wh-What’s wrong?” he asks, reaching out for me.

I suppose the sniffling that’s approaching full-on crying is what’s scared him. “N-Nothing’s wrong,” I say, but then let out a wail.

I’ve never been a pretty crier. I suspect most people aren’t. But right now, I’m kind of glad that Christophe can’t look at me.

“You’re crying,” he confirms. “Is it the wrong type of cake? Did the inside not turn out well? I knew I should’ve checked it before icing it.”

“No!” I immediately cover his eyes with my hand when he looks like he’s about to open them. “I-I’m fine. I promise. I’m just … touched.”

I fight hard to swallow the lump in my throat along with the remaining sobs that threaten to spill out.

“The cake is absolutely perfect. It’s the best cake I’ve ever had.”

Another frown.

“Did you taste it already?”

My lips twitch, because, well, he’s right. I haven’t actually tasted it yet. I pick up one of the forks that are set out and take a bite of my slice.

Instantly my eyes water again. It’s so moist it almost melts as soon as I put it in my mouth.

“So good,” I moan out. “Have you tasted it yet?”

Christophe shakes his head.

“Open.”

His lips immediately part, and I feed him a forkful of the cake he prepared. I watch as he chews thoughtfully.

“That’s pretty good.”

My laughter echoes around us. “You sound surprised.”

“Aside from the basics, this is the first thing I’ve actually cooked. Well, baked,” he corrects. “Ms. Elsie watched me and helped with some of the instructions but yeah. First time baking.”

“You’re lying, this can’t be.” I take another bite of the deliciously moist cake. It’s so spongy and flavorful. A moan echoes around us, and it takes a second for me to realize it’s me.

“Don’t make that sound.”

Christophe’s voice stops me mid-chew.

He’s staring straight ahead, with the blindfold back over his eyes. But the hold he has around my waist has tightened. And his voice?

Its deepness reaches down into my soul.

“Sorry,” I mumble. “This might be the first cake you’ve ever baked, but it absolutely cannot be your last. I might start demanding one a week.”

He chuckles.

“No, scratch that. One a day for the rest of my life.”

I expect another chuckle, but when I peer down at him, his lips have flattened into a straight line. Not quite a frown, but not the affable response I was expecting.

“Okay, okay. One a day might be too much to ask. Once a month. This took a lot of effort on your part.”

“Let’s go for a run,” he suddenly proposes.

“What? But you haven’t finished eating your slice of cake. Neither have I.”

Mine is halfway gone already though.

“It’ll be here for us when we return. My wolf wants to wish your wolf a happy birthday, too.”

My heart and my wolf leap in excitement inside of my chest. Being in our wolves is the only way Christophe and I get to look at one another, face to face. No blindfolds.

“We’d like that.”