Lucky Break by Chloe Neill Read Free Book Online Page B

into the sky, just as, tonight, they were the last I heard before sleep claimed me.

4
    â€œMmm,” I said, eyes closed, smiling drowsily, the scent of bacon in the air. “I picked the right vampire.”
    I’d thought I was alone, that Ethan was in the kitchen preparing breakfast. I nearly jumped when I heard his voice.
    â€œI’m right here, Sentinel.”
    I opened my eyes, found him a few feet away, pulling a belt through jeans, still shirtless.
    â€œBacon?” It was a query, an accusation, a wish.
    â€œI believe the Pack is making you breakfast.”
    That had me sitting up and grabbing clothing to change faster than most things would have.
    â€œShould I be insulted that you’re so eager to enjoy another man’s pork?”
    I leaned out of the bathroom, toothbrush mid-swipe, and grinned. “Ethan Sullivan, did you just make a joke?”
    He hadn’t, at least from the look on his face. But I wasn’t threatened by the possessiveness in his eyes.
    Because bacon.
    â€œYou’re the only man for me,” I assured Ethan when I’d pulled on my leathers and boots in preparation for a night of investigating. I’d hoped, of course, I wouldn’t need them on our “vacation,” but I’d packed them just in case. Good thing I’d been a little paranoid.
    He scanned his phone as he waited for me to add the final touches, glanced up with moderate amusement. “You say, as you’re putting on lip gloss.”
    â€œIt’s lip balm, because you’ve chapped my mouth with your kisses, sir. And I’m attempting to represent Cadogan House with class and charm.” Which is why it had a pale pink sheen. Or that was my story, anyway.
    Ethan snorted, and when I put the balm on the counter, he whipped an arm around my waist and pulled me toward him. “Use your class and charm, Sentinel, which you have in spades. But don’t forget that you’ll be sleeping in my bed—and only my bed—come morning.”
    He kissed me again, mooting application of said lip balm.
    ***
    Nessa’s guesthouse had become a den of wolves. Quite literally.
    Gabriel hadn’t traveled lightly to Colorado. There were at least a dozen brawny NAC shifters milling around the living room, stretched out before the fire in leather jackets and boots. Some of them had dewy beers in their hands; others held playing cards. I guessed their chromed bikes were probably parked in a tidy row outside, or at least the ones who’d been in driving distance.
    And what,
I silently asked Ethan,
would Nessa think about this?
    I suspect it’s better she doesn’t know.
    I waved at them, followed Ethan to the kitchen, found Gabriel Keene on a stool at the island, beer bottle in hand. He was tall and broad shouldered, as befit the alpha wolf, his hair, not unlike Rowan McKenzie’s, a mix of gold and brown. His eyes were golden, like very expensive whiskey. He wore jeans and a gray V-neck T-shirt, one boot propped on the rung of the stool beside him.
    I didn’t see his usual companions, his wife, Tanya, and young son, Connor. But he had brought a friend. The Pack’s enforcer, Damien Garza, stood in front of the stove, deftly flipping a small sauté pan, the smell of meat wafting deliciously into the air. Damien was tall and lean, with tan skin and dark, deep-set eyes that seemed to take in everything. He wore his black hair to his shoulders, his face unshaven, which added a dangerous appeal to his immaculately carved cheekbones and generous lips.
    I loved Ethan, desired him above all other things, but Damien’s masculinity was powerful enough to have its own gravitational field.
    Plus, not to belabor the point,
bacon
.
    â€œSullivan,” Gabriel said, nodding at Ethan.
    â€œKeene,” Ethan said.
    Gabe turned his gaze to me, his eyes narrowing on the bruise on my cheekbone that had softened to a pale yellow thanks to speedy vampire healing.