Bearly Hanging On (The Jamesburg Shifters #6)(35)

"And what? Did you finally figure out how expensive bras are when you started having to buy them?"

"That," he said, "and..."

Outside the window of Erik's office facing the parking lot, Jamie watched a large, black sedan pull up. It was all sharp lines and chrome accents, straight out of a 1970s James Bond flick. The car pulled to a smooth stop, and the engine cut off, but no one got out.

"And what?" she asked again, looking past Erik as she did.

"Well, I might have gotten a cut on my gum one time, from one of the strings, and it maybe didn't get checked fast enough, and," he trailed off.

Jamie snorted. "You got a gum infection from Izzy's bra? That's," she took another breath, starting to turn purple from the laughing. "That's incredible! How did," she put her hand on her chest, doubled over. "How is that even possible?"

Erik scoffed a laugh, coolly self-deprecating. "Oh, I dunno, you know? Sometimes you just get going too hot and heavy you don't notice stuff like that."

He ran his hand through his shaggy, dirty-blond hair and flashed one of his slightly yellow-eyed twinkles. He was starting to get wolfy. Maybe he was hoping Izzy would be in a good mood when he got home. Or, failing that, at least a giving one. He finished the combo with a grin that made his high cheekbones and beautifully angled jaw stand out even more prominently.

"If it was fifteen, twenty years ago, and you shot me a look like that, you woulda had me on the floor of a bathroom panting and sweating," Jamie said. "But now?"

Erik scrunched up his eyes. "What's wrong? Am I getting wrinkled or something?"

She patted his chest, patronizingly. "Oh, no, you're still gorgeous and muscled and all that. The only problem is that now?" Jamie paused for a moment, enhancing the drama. "Now, I know you."

Erik pursed his lips and set his bottom jaw forward, which made him look more than a little Cro-Magnon.

Mission: distract Erik, complete. Jamie smiled to herself, and looked back past Erik's shoulder. Still no sign of anyone in the car, and the windows were so heavily tinted that even Jamie's night-trained eyes couldn't pierce the shroud. "Any idea who that might be?" She tilted her head to catch Erik's attention.

"No," he said, turning. "But that car's been coming and going all day. Probably one of the people with Brosnan."

"Branson," Jamie corrected. "You know, like the town. Dancing water, Lawrence Welk?"

He shook his head, and looked almost completely vacant. Not normal Erik-vacant, but seriously like there wasn't a thought in his head.

"You sleeping okay?" Jamie asked, more to make idle conversation than anything else. "Seem distracted."

"No." Erik's reply was flat and matter-of-fact. "Hardly at all."

"Is it Izzy keeping you up?"

"Yeah, but not the way you probably think."

"She's preggers with your enormous wolf baby. I'm sure she's not feeling exactly randy these days, you know? Maybe give the ol' rogering pole a break for a while?"

Erik shook his head, he wasn't even awake enough to get irritated. That, Jamie knew, was a very bad sign.

"It isn't even that." His voice was just hollow.

Jamie turned to him, and really studied her old friend's face. The bags under his eyes were obvious at first glance, but how puffy and red his eyes were, wasn't, until you really looked. His nose and cheeks were slightly flushed, like he'd been fighting a cold for a long time and the tissues had irritated his face. His hair was perfect, of course, but the looseness of his jaws and the way he wasn't grinning like an * almost constantly concerned Jamie.

"What is it then? If I have to keep asking you the same question over and over again to get anything out of you, I'll just let you stay miserable and quit asking."

"Huh?" Erik said, shaking his head like he'd been falling asleep and caught himself. "Oh, sorry. Yeah, no it isn't sex, I don't bother her about that. We barely do it anymore though, only once a day. Sometimes we even skip."

"Oh, God," she laughed, swatting his arm. "Poor baby. Poor, poor baby."

Although really, it probably was fairly bad. It isn't a wolf's fault his libido is completely out of control. It was lucky he'd found Izzy, honestly, because not even Jamie was ever able to keep up with Erik's thirst. He wasn't pushy or anything of the sort, he just wanted it all the time. Which, okay, when you're twenty-two? Fine, sure, we can do it in the elevator, have a quickie in the Laundromat, hell, even sneak off into the bathroom at the gym, put tissues all over every single visible surface, and get after it.

But at thirty-five?

She laughed under her breath. "What is it then? You're obviously not yourself."

Erik looked like he was getting tunnel vision. He stared, dead-eyed at the car in the parking lot, which happened to be one of four strewn about the spaces. "She's very competitive."

"Competitive? What's that supposed to mean?"

"In bed - er, asleep, I mean." He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. "She's a very competitive sleeper."

"Oh...kay? Care to explain that one?"

He laughed a laugh as hollow as his cheeks. "She rolls around a lot." He winced, like he'd been through something terrible. "She rolls and kicks and talks. And sometimes she'll wake up in the middle of the night and start screaming at me."