TEXAS // WOLFSTATE CHRONICLES

{chapter three}

 CHAPTER THREE

Sunday.

Colten Turner's favourite.

Sunday meant quiet, calm and the soft sound of kids running out back kept him content and happy. It made him excited for the day Ella would be outback running, maybe even his own kids, but that thought might have been more a hope than ever a reality.

But Sundays, at the start of Summer, that's exactly what he lived at that moment.

He looked up from his magazine to the kitchen counters, where Sarah was baking cookies because the pie, the night before, just hadn't been enough.

Ella squeaked in the playpen across the room and he got up, walking over to her.

“What you complaining about, beautiful?” He picked her up and she curled into his shoulder, hugging her uncle.

Sarah sighed, watching him with the baby, “You're too cute, Colten.”

“Cute?” He echoed, walking over to her, “I like ruggedly-handsome.”

Sarah laughed, “You can be that to.”

He rubbed Ella's back as she started to doze on him.

Sarah turned up the radio and the country music filled the hot-aired kitchen. She turned away from her baking and kissed him on the cheek.

He picked up her hand and twirled her, making her laugh.

“Colten.”

He came up in front of her, “You don't like my dancing skills? You'll have a lot more of that to endure next weekend at the rodeo. Torture is in your future.”

“You're full of it.” She batted her eyes at the Alpha.

He smiled about to kiss her, when a soft knock at the front door caused him to pause.

Sarah turned the radio down, “Who would that be?”

Colten took a whiff of the air around him, surprised the intruder had gotten past his senses to the front door.

“Not sure.” He grumbled and walked out of the kitchen, Ella resting on his shoulder.

With another soft knock, the sound of boots scrapping the paint on the front porch, he smelt her.

Stopping at the front of the door, he prayed he was just dreaming, though that dream the night before had not ended well and the metallic taste of blood in his mouth had seemed all too real.

But he opened the door and there she stood; all golden locks, pink flushed cheeks, tucked in plaid shirt and cut off jeans.

She smiled her innocent smile, which made her eyes squint, “Hi, Colten. I brought you some cookies for helping with Fiesta yesterday.”

He paused, “Uh-”

“I hope that's alright.” She breathed, her chin dropping with her hesitation.

He stared at her, realizing he'd yet to say anything. Getting himself together, the scorching pain of their mating-bond were the least of his problems.

“Well, you didn't have to do that.” He rumbled off.

Abigail shifted with the tin of cookies in her grip, “I baked them last night. Fiesta is doing so much better. Oh, who's this!” She gushed at Ella.

“Oh-er... This is Ella.” There she was inside his house, cooing over his little niece – driving his instinct to want her deeper.

Abigail hesitated in the door frame, “She's so cute.”