Chasing The Night: Big Easy Shifters: Book Three by Knox, Abby (best novels to read for students TXT) 📗

He unlocked the door and stepped inside.

There she was, sound asleep on a bed three times the size of his paltry little twin bed. He had found her.

After making sure the door locked behind him again, Gavin set the bag of beignets and the mug of coffee down on the night table. And then he just watched her sleep.

Her hair was splayed out over the pillow as she slept on her side. A satin sheet was draped over the curve of her hip. Her breast was nearly spilling out of the top of her dress. The little hint of sequins that he saw triggered another memory, this time of her dancing on the bar. He smiled. His girl was fun, but if she ever did that again, the wolf would be carrying her home over his shoulder, caveman-style. Nobody else was ever going to watch his drunk-ass wife do a sexy dance on the bar, not as long as he had something to say about it.

Wait…wife? Yes. Wife. Watching her sleep wasn’t creepy because she was already his wife, as far as he was concerned. There could be nobody else but her.

Even after a night of partying like it was 1999, this girl looked like an angel. He wanted desperately to touch her, but he did not dare do that to her while she was passed out or asleep.

He watched her for several minutes until she started to stir awake. Bleary-eyed and unaware of his presence, Chastity rolled over and instinctively grabbed her phone. She muttered to herself, “Any more texts from the mystery man?”

Chapter Nine

Chastity

It was only about an hour of sleep, but it was still nice to wake up in her special room at the mansion. The four-poster bed, comfortable mattress. And miracle of miracles, she smelled coffee and pastries, as always.

She rolled over and opened her eyes, feeling around for her phone on the night table. Grabbing it up, she muttered to herself as she checked for any more texts from Gavin.

She decided it was time to text him back.

I feel exactly the same. I’m at Rosemary’s. You have the key. Come find me. I can’t unlock it. My relatives are psycho.

About two-tenths of a second after she hit “send,” there was the sound of an alert.

Wait a second.

Her heart leaped into her throat, and she sat straight up in bed, wide awake.

She looked across the room. He was there. Sitting at the foot of her bed. The brown-eyed, long-haired god whom she’d evidently slept with last night—this morning—had been watching her sleep. And by God, yes, he did have a beard.

“It’s you!”

He smiled. Oh, sweet Moses, that was a smile. He was a hulking man whose arm muscles were busting out of his threadbare tattoo-shop logo T-shirt, with the best-looking grin she’d ever seen. It was the only face she ever wanted to wake up to again.

“Hi,” he said. “I’m Gavin.”

Chapter Ten

Gavin

It wasn’t the best opening line. Or, more accurately, re-opening line. They had already done the deed—or some type of deeds—and were well acquainted with each other, even if each of their memories weren’t clear.

But she must have been okay with that, because the next second she was climbing on top of him and kissing his mouth like they were long-lost lovers newly reunited.

Which, he guessed, they technically were.

Gavin closed his eyes as she kissed him, and everything came flooding back.

* * *

Gavin had helped her down from the bar where she’d been dancing when Bobby was angrily yelling at her to get down.

She slurred something to Gavin along the lines of, “Hey handsome, I’m gonna be straight with you. I’m a virgin and I don’t wanna be a virgin anymore. You in or you out?”

He stammered, “Uh…yep! Same!”

She laughed and looked him up and down. “Nice try, beefcake. You get points for trying to make me feel less awkward. Listen, if I don’t escape my cousins now, I will turn into a pumpkin at midnight, and my uncle will lock me up tight as a drum after that.”

Gavin had decided not to quibble over the fact that the time was hours after midnight. In minutes they had been up the street, and he was showing her the inside of his tattoo parlor. Manny was closing up and looked surly as usual. He did not seem impressed by Chastity, nor by Gavin, come to think of it. Eventually, Manny disappeared into the back room, presumably to take care of some last-minute chores and to clock out before hitting the alley where his car was parked. Gavin and Chastity sat in the parlor and talked for a good long while. She had thanked him for springing her from the watchful eyes of her cousins. They talked about careers and about how she had none. She wanted to be an illustrator, but her daddy wanted to send her to an all-girl Bible college to keep her on the “straight and narrow.” She showed him her blog, where she’d posted incredible works of art in charcoal, pencil, acrylics, all forms of media. She told him her life story as a sheltered Southern debutante; he told her his story about growing up being homeschooled by Ash’s parents from middle school until the age of 17.

Eventually, they had come around to the subject of their supernatural conditions. As they were both drunk, they had no inhibitions about it. He remembered both of them being so excited to learn this about each other—that she was a shape-shifting panther and he was a shape-shifting wolf—and then they had kissed for the first time. It had been instant fireworks. And they both knew it. And then they had decided to get matching tattoos. How he had managed to do one on his own hip, he’d never know. At that point, Manny had popped his head out of the backroom and said something, but Gavin didn’t remember what it was. He did have other pressing issues, such as pressing