Lesser of Two Evils by K. S. Martin Page B

sink.
    “Goodnight, then,” he said quietly.
    “’Night,” she said, not looking up.
She listened to him go back to his bedroom and close the door. Kerry had
ulterior motives. He was more patient than anyone she’d ever met, and she usually
liked that, but not tonight. With the floor spotless, Kerry got another glass
and filled it with milk. This time though, she sipped it and felt its cold path
down her throat into her belly. It was heavenly. Turning off the kitchen light,
Kerry stepped out into the screened-in porch again. She turned the light off
and went to the swing. Giving it a push she watched the trees move gently in
the breeze. They looked black against the dark sky. She heard doves cooing and
the screech of an owl. She smiled against the glass as the air shifted and blew
a tendril of hair against her cheek. She sipped the milk slowly, enjoying it.
    Pushing the swing again, she heard Ethan
coming down the hall. The door opened. “I thought you would go back to bed once
you’d finished the floor.”
    “I still wanted some milk.” She
held the glass up for him to see. “It’s nice out here. Do you ever sit out here
and listen to the night?” He shook his head. She patted the seat next to her.
Ethan approached slowly and sat down on the swing next to her. He looked into
her glass and saw that it was still half full.
    “Want some?” She offered it to him.
    Growling low in his chest, he took
it and sipped, then handed it back. Her parents never shared food, but she’d
seen other mates in her pack do it and the males always liked it. Maybe it
would make him feel better about what she’d said. The guilt was twisting her
insides uncomfortably because she hadn’t meant it entirely. Some of the things
he’d done to her in bed were good. She pushed with her foot again and the swing
swayed. The breeze caught her hair, and she shivered.
    “Are you cold?” His head swung
around and he studied her. She shook her head, but she had goose flesh on her
arms. Ethan wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “I’ll
keep you warm.”
    “Can I sleep with you?” she
whispered. “My room is cold,” she lied.
    “Of course, but I thought that you
wanted your space.” She felt his eyes on her but kept her head down.
    “I like to sleep with you. I feel
safe and warm with you,” she admitted, afraid to look at him when she said it,
afraid he’d say no, or that he’d mock her for what she’d said earlier. So far,
he didn’t seem spiteful, and if they had to stay together, then sleeping apart
wasn’t good for the relationship. She didn’t like the uncomfortable distance
already and it had only been four hours. This must be resolved. She held her
breath while she waited, and counted the seconds because it took him a while to
answer.
    “You’re more than welcome, and I’ll
stick to my word. We won’t do anything that you don’t want to do.” He kissed
her temple. Kerry gave the swing another push.
    “There’s no door out here. I might
be able to contain her.. The closest door is the front, right? I like to draw,”
Kerry said. Taking that away was like taking air from her.
    “You’re very good at it, too. I’d
like to frame some of your work if you’ll let me.”
    She nibbled her lip and furrowed
her brow.
    “I looked through your sketchbook.
You have several beautiful sketches in there. Have you ever used chalk or
charcoal?”
    “No. I just have my pencil.”
    He chuckled. “You need a new one.
Yours is tiny, or do you prefer it that way?”
    “No.”
    “Okay. Would you like to try chalk
and charcoal or watercolors, have you used them?”
    She was quiet and sipped her milk.
    “Then we have an errand to run
after breakfast. Are you done with your milk?”
    She upturned it and emptied the
glass.
    “Come on, it’s late. Let me keep
you warm.”

Chapter 9
    Kerry heard birds but was too
comfortable to move, surrounded by warmth and cradled gently against a sleeping
Ethan. She opened