Imprint.

Three

The door opened but no one came inside. "Is my mom here yet?" It was Dean's voice but I couldn't see him.

"No." I said, my eyebrows scrunching together. Why wasn't he walking inside?

When he finally did walk in, he was covered in mud. His face was a full shade darker because of the mud. "Your brother thought it'd be funny to push me into a mud puddle."

I groaned.  "I just cleaned in here."

"I'd ask you to hose me off outside but there's mud in places I don't want you to see."

"Can't you do that yourself?"

"Come on, V. Please? I'd do it for you."

I threw the rag I had at him. "You know I'd never ask you to do that for me."

He grinned. "Well?"

"Just go." I said, pointing toward the bathroom.

He winked at me before he ran off, leaving muddy footsteps behind him.

Carter and Bentley came inside soon after. Neither of them were muddy but they were laughing.

"I'm going to kill you." I said, gathering up all the wet towels.

"You wouldn't last one day as an alpha." Carter said matter-of-factly.

I narrowed my eyes at him. He was right. But that didn't mean I was happy about it.

"When's Patricia going to get here?"

"Why are you asking me?"

"Because I thought maybe she called."

I rolled my eyes.

"You better clean up Dean's mess before his mom gets here." He said, his voice softening as he walked away from me.

"I hate you."

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"Thanks for making dinner tonight." I said to Patricia, Dean's mom. "I know they're all tired of pizza."

"Dean gets homesick at times."

"Most of them do." I knew Dean never got homesick. Sure, he missed his mom but he never wanted to move back home. His step dad didn't understand the werewolf stuff so it was hard for him. But he didn't talk about it and neither did we.

Even I got home sick. I missed being home and seeing my mom but our relationship wasn't that great. She didn't agree with my relationship with Will and didn't offer much comfort when he died. It was like she didn't care at all. That always rubbed me the wrong way.

"How's your mom doing?"

I sighed and picked at the potholder on the table. "I haven't talked to her lately."

"I'm sure she wants to talk to you and see how you're doing."

I had nothing against my mom. I wasn't mad at her. I didn't hate her. She was just more judgmental and critical than I liked.

"I'm still getting over everything. I don't need her telling me how I should feel or what I should do with my life."

"She's only trying to help."

"She wants me to sell the house." I said softly.

Patricia left the dishes at the stove and walked up behind me. She put her hands on my arm. "She doesn't understand your grief."

"How do I make her understand? She already didn't like him because he was a werewolf."

"But she likes Carter."

"Because she has to."

She pursed her lips. "Talk to her, Veronica."

"Something smells good in here." I was glad for the interruption. Another minute and I would have been crying. And I didn't want to do that.

Dean walked in the door and into the kitchen. His hair was wet from the rain that had started just minutes before. A big grin was already on his face.

"Sweetheart, wipe your feet on the mat. I don't want you getting mud everywhere."

I grinned at Dean as he did what his mother said, running his arm over his face.

When at least his feet were dry, he walked into the room and hugged his mother, almost knocking her over.

She patted his arm as if she was tapping out of a wrestling match and he let her go. "I guess I shouldn't ask if you've been eating."

He grinned. "That's all we do around here."

"Why am I not surprised?"

He looked over the pots on the stove before sitting on the counter top. "How's Larry?"

Patricia sighed. "I really wish you'd refer to him as your father."

Dean rolled his eyes. His relationship with his step father was poor if anything. Neither of them got along after Dean first turned. He said he was working on it but I knew the truth. He couldn't hide anything from me.

I'd always wondered why Dean didn't imprint on me. We had so much in common. He always made me laugh and vise versa. He helped me cheer up when I was upset and he knew when something was bothering me, even if I didn't tell anyone. He was one of my best friends.

"And don't put your butt where food gets set. It's disgusting."

He jumped to his feet and made eye contact with me. "Where's Carter?"

"I'm surprised the food didn't have them in here already." Patricia said.

"That's what I was wondering too."

As if on call, Carter opened the front door and walked inside, fully clothed for once. Bentley was with him, a phone in his hands. He was paying no attention to any of us.

"It smells good in here."

"Speak of the devil." Dean said, grinning.