“So dominant. An alpha, but you’re not their alpha. And yet you have his scent all over you. It’s confusing as hell, if you must know the truth. You need to get all this straightened out with Marco, because I don’t want to be in the middle of it.”
Nicky stared at him for a few more seconds before he turned and headed back toward the lodge, walking stiffly and fancying he could feel Ian’s gaze boring into his back. Rather than go inside, he veered off toward the gardens on the side of the lodge. This area, not so manicured as the rest of the grounds, was bordered by a thick grove of laurel trees and allowed to grow a little wild with rhododendrons and wild ferns. There was a pathway through the ferns that led to a little stone bench where he used to set up his easel and paint in the fresh air and sunshine.
He hadn’t been able to paint since the incident on the mountain. He hadn’t wanted to alarm Marco by telling him, but whatever talent he’d once had seemed to have completely deserted him. On the one occasion when he’d tried, he didn’t even remember what all the different brushes were used for. He’d stared down at the canvas with no idea of how to begin. He thought maybe it was from the trauma and it would all come back to him, but it hadn’t so far, and it was looking more and more like it never would.
“Nicky,” someone called from behind him and he turned to see his friend Logan coming toward him. “Ian asked me to come find you. He was afraid you were a little upset.”
Nicky lifted one shoulder. “Only a little frustrated. I didn’t mean to take it out on Ian. I guess he’s pissed.”
“No, just concerned about you.”
“And afraid I was about to take off? What—did Marco set his watchdog to guard me?”
“That’s not fair, Nicky. Ian was worried about you. We’ve all been concerned.”
“Yeah, see, it’s that concern that’s driving me crazy. I don’t need a guard, Logan.”
“How about a friend? Could you use one of those?”
Nicky gave a surprised little half-laugh and Logan pressed his advantage. “Come and have some lunch with me. I haven’t talked to you in too long.”
“Won’t Ian get mad?”
“What if he does? I’m not giving up my friendship with you for him or anybody else. Remember what you told me onc
e about the wolves? ‘They have the worst tempers on the planet, Logan, though they’d never admit it,’ you said. ‘When they get mad they say stupid things they later regret, but they’re all the same—handsome, sexy, brave and full of themselves.’ Is any of this ringing a bell?”
Nicky smiled. “Did I really say all that?”
“You know you did.”
Nicky shrugged. “It’s all true, of course. The irony here is that it looks like I’m about to find out about it all firsthand. I’ve been going around all morning half-cocked and ready to go off at the least provocation.”
Logan laughed and touched his arm. “Duly warned. C’mon, let’s go see what’s on the menu today. I thought I smelled meatloaf. It was always one of your favorites.”
They made their way back inside to the dining hall and over to the buffet line. Nicky wasn’t hungry—hadn’t been really since he got out of the hospital, but he took a salad and a roll while Logan loaded his plate. Nicky turned to look for an empty table and right away he spotted Marco at the far end of the room. He seemed to be deep in conversation with Ian and Casey, and Nicky blew out an irritated breath. “I see Ian ran straight to Marco.”
Logan glanced at Nicky, concern etched on his face. “It’s his job, Nicky, and he takes it very seriously. He’s only looking out for you both.”
“Yeah, right,” Nicky said and wound his way through the tables to where Marco was sitting. Marco gave him a long look as he approached, and Casey moved over to make room for Nicky beside Marco. A little silence fell over the table as Nicky and Logan sat down and Nicky wondered what they’d been talking about before they arrived. Or should he say who? No doubt he was a topic of conversation, but he wondered what they’d been saying about him. Was Ian complaining about his “strange scent”? Or were they both here to ask Marco to keep Nicky away from their mates?
Marco scowled down at Nicky’s tray. “Is that all you’re eating?”
He sighed. “I’m not hungry.”
“You have to eat, damn it.” Marco picked up his own plate and dumped half of his meatloaf onto Nicky’s. A strong smell of onions, tomato sauce and grease wafted up to him and he felt a little lurch of nausea. Why had Logan said meatloaf was one of his favorites? He didn’t recall that. As a matter of fact, he didn’t think he liked it all.
Nicky was learning to pick his battles, though. He moved the meatloaf over to the side of his plate and took a bite of his salad.
Marco was still staring at him. “Ian was telling me that you asked to be assigned to a work detail.”
Nicky gave Ian a sharp glance. “Yes.”
“Why didn’t you mention it to me this morning?”
Nicky smirked and bit into his roll. “We had other things to discuss.”
A muscle jumped in Marco’s jaw. Nicky met his gaze for a moment, and a wave of possessiveness washed over him. God, Marco was handsome. Those dark, intense eyes and that thick black hair, those lashes that threw dark crescents onto his cheekbones—sometimes Nicky was still surprised at how long those eyelashes were. He felt the slow thud of his heart beating in his chest as his groin tightened and the blood rushed to his cock. He shifted uncomfortably and picked up his glass of iced tea to take a sip.