Free Bailey Bradford - Southwestern Shifters 07 - Revolution by Bailey Bradford Page B

were blurred with tears and he couldn’t think. Luuk’s arms around
him were the anchor he needed, though, the warmth and love flowing from his mate into
Jameson the reassurance that helped him to calm down before he truly lost it and howled
and screamed and cursed Fate.
“Sorry,” Jameson sniffled, rubbing his face on Luuk’s chest. “I don’t know what’s
wrong with me.”
Luuk’s arms tightened and he growled, “There’s nothing wrong with you, Jamie.
Nothing. Look at what you have been through. You’ve earned the right to shed more than a
few tears.”
Luuk wasn’t crying, though. Jameson wished he was as strong as Luuk, but he
supposed they wouldn’t have worked so well then, probably. And maybe he was stronger in
ways that Luuk wasn’t. Jameson liked to believe he and Luuk balanced each other out, but
many times, when a dark mood hit him, Jameson knew he wasn’t Luuk’s equal in any way. “You are,” Luuk snarled, his temper flowing into Jameson along with the love and
adoration. “Don’t think less of yourself for this. You are every bit my equal, and a better man
than I am. Fate wouldn’t have matched us together were we not perfectly suited for each
other. I never cared for a weak-willed or weak-minded man before we found each other,
don’t believe I was handed either of those types as a mate, Jamie.”
Jameson sniffled again and scrubbed at his nose with his forearm. “Okay. But I’m still
sorry I fell apart.”
“You did so because you have a loving heart and worry for Piotr.” Luuk tipped his chin
up and Jameson had a split second to marvel at the warmth in his eyes before he closed his
own as Luuk kissed him. It was a chaste kiss, but Jameson needed it. When Luuk raised his
head Jameson opened his eyes and blinked.
“Where are we?” Jameson twisted around and stared at a shelf of dusty and mostly
battered…junk, as far as he could tell.
“Antique shop,” Luuk said, amusement making his voice almost musical. “It was
empty of customers, and the lady behind the counter has been chatting nonstop on her cell
phone. She didn’t even notice us coming in.”
“Uhm… Okay.” Jameson shot a look to the counter where a woman with brightly dyed
orange-red hair was examining long, curved nails as she hummed an agreement to whoever
she was on the phone with. “Well.”
“She won’t notice us leaving any more than she noticed us coming in.” Luuk took his
elbow again and proved his theory right. Jameson looked over his shoulder as they went out
of the door, and the woman was still examining her nails as she chatted on the phone. “The store is right here.” Luuk hefted the duffle on his shoulder and gestured to a sign.
“It’s a large store, and they used to carry some of everything. I’m assuming they still do.” It was overwhelming, walking into what was, Jameson thought, Poland’s version of a
Wal-Mart. He found himself huddling closer to Luuk than was probably wise and forced
himself to put a few inches of space between them.
“Here,” Luuk turned down an aisle and stopped. “Oh. There are so many different ones
now. Three years ago…”
Yeah, three years ago, lots of things had been different. Jameson looked at all the
different phones. He’d once been a kind of techno-geek, and proud of it, but he was pretty
sure he would be lucky to figure some of those phones out.
“Pick one,” Luuk said, giving him a desperate look. “I will stand here forever trying to
decide.”
Jameson was likely to do the same thing if he gave it much thought. He did a quick
perusal then grabbed what he thought was a mid-priced phone. “I guess?” He handed it to
Luuk, who grabbed a card off a hook then headed to the registers. He stopped and veered
down another aisle with laptops on display. “At least these don’t look too different.” Then he
frowned at a tiny one before shaking his head and pointing at a silver one. “That should
work. We’ve been out of touch too long. Perhaps we