A Rebel Without Claws (Southern Charm #1)

3. ~Celine~

Chapter 3

~Celine~

“How long before you know if you passed?” I asked.

My college roommate Lauren had recently taken the bar. She currently lived in Baton Rouge where she’d just graduated from LSU Law and had called to catch me up on how the exam went. We tried to video chat as often as we could.

“One to three months.” She snorted in that unladylike way that always made me smile. For someone who came from old New Orleans money, she acted the opposite. Sometimes I wondered if her laissez-faire, often crude demeanor was her own way of trying to separate herself from her upbringing.

“Like it wasn’t torture enough having to study for months for the damn thing,” she added while putting on eyeliner in the bathroom mirror, “we now have to wait months for results. It’s fucking ridiculous. But guess what?” She paused to grin at me in that mischievous way of hers .

“What?” I was laying on my bed, petting my cat Petunia and holding the phone with my other hand.

“I’m moving back home!”

“ Finally ,” I exclaimed excitedly and sat up.

She belted out one of her infectious laughs. “I thought you’d be happy.”

“When? Have you found a new place yet?”

“Next week and no new place yet.” She curled her lip in distaste, now applying mascara. “I’m going to live with my dad for now.”

“I’m sure that’ll make him happy.”

“Yes, but I don’t want to have to witness his revolving door of women.”

“Your dad lives in like a ten-thousand-square-foot house. I’m sure you can avoid seeing him and his lady friends.”

“It’s only nine thousand,” she countered cheekily. “But I plan to land a good law firm as soon as I get the results telling me I’ve passed with amazing, flying colors.”

“You will. You’re like the poster child of manifesting your own success.”

“It works.” She screwed her mascara top tight. “And I’m not even a witch.”

“You should’ve been.”

While most humans didn’t know about the existence of supernaturals, there were always some we allowed into our world. Not counting the humans who frequented vampire dens as blood-hosts to get the high from vampire toxin, there were genuine human friends and even family who knew about us but kept our secrets. Most people would think they were crazy anyway if they started spouting about the supernaturals living among us.

Lauren turned to face me fully, propping her hands on her voluptuous hips. “No need for magic when I’ve got all this.” She gestured to her fabulous figure in the cutest blue jumpsuit.

“Got a hot date?”

“No. Just drinks with my study group. Though there is this one guy who’s been eyeing me for a while. I think tonight’s his lucky night. What about you? Any new men in your life?”

I couldn’t suppress the smile spreading across my face. “Well, actually . . .”

“Omigod, Celine. Tell me now!”

“Keep your panties on.” I laughed and picked up the phone. “His name is Ronan Reed. He’s a werewolf.”

“Shut up . Sounds delicious already. What else?”

“He’s extremely . . .” I paused, trying to find the right words.

“Hot?”

“Yes.” I laughed.

“Sweeeet. Tell me more, please.”

“He’s”—I put my hand in the air, quite a bit higher than my head—“about this tall, has blond hair, blue eyes, and the sexiest voice I’ve ever heard. And he’s extraordinarily alluring. Even with his bruised-up face.”

“He was beaten up?”

I nodded, frowning. “He’d been in a fight with someone, but I didn’t find out why. He said he moved out here for a fresh start.”

Lauren arched a brow, now walking with me through her apartment. “He doesn’t sound like the kind of guy your dad would approve of. ”

I huffed out a laugh. “My dad would not approve.”

“Fabulous. Now I really like him.”

I started walking with my phone downstairs, craving a snack. “Nope.”

“I one hundred percent applaud your rebellion, but that’s going to be a bit tricky still living at home.”

My parents were out together at the park. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have even mentioned Ronan within the walls of the house. My dad had supersonic hearing. Literally. But Mom and Dad took walks in the afternoons after the sun had dipped lower. The summer was waning, but the heat index was still unbearable this time of year.

“Don’t I know it,” I said as I walked downstairs. “I’m close to having enough money to move out, but not just yet.”

My parents offered to give me the money to rent my own apartment, but I’d moved back home after grad school two years ago while I built up my counseling practice and saved for a house. I didn’t want to waste money, sinking it into rent. Rates were high enough in the Lower Garden District where I wanted to live close to family and my practice. Dad offered to give me the down payment, but it was important to me to save the money myself. I wanted complete independence when I bought my own place.

The truth is, I was spoiled rotten. I was fortunate to be raised in an extremely loving—if not sometimes overbearing— family. I wanted for nothing, truly, except a space of my own that I bought on my own. Dad didn’t understand, but Mom did. My brother Joaquin already lived on his own above his restaurant, the Silver Moon Café, a few blocks down Magazine Street .

He’d had no problem borrowing money from our parents, but his investment in the café had already turned a profit well enough to pay most of it back. My income was modest since I was still building up clientele. I didn’t want to be in debt to my parents or anyone. It was difficult enough exerting any independence in a family this size with so many overprotective and opinionated relatives telling me what was best for me.

Thankfully, I was close to moving out. I figured I’d be ready to do serious house shopping by the end of the year.

“Well, I’m proud of you. It’s about time you go against the grain and get yourself a bad boy.”

She said that last part as I rounded into the kitchen. “What bad boy?” asked my brother Diego roughly.

“Shit,” I mumbled, stopping at the entryway.

Diego stood shirtless and barefoot in a pair of jeans in the open refrigerator door, holding a carton of milk and wiping away the milk mustache with the back of his hand, his longish black wavy hair a total mess, making him look even more like a rock star.

“Diego’s there?” asked Lauren. “Let me talk to him.”

I faced my phone to my brother, mostly to distract Diego from what he’d just overheard.

“Speaking of bad boys,” said Lauren, “it’s good to see you’re keeping nice and fit, Diego.”

My brother grinned shamelessly, running his free hand down his washboard abs. “I’ve always told you that you’re welcome to sample the goods, Lauren.” Then he put the carton of milk back in the fridge .

I faced the phone toward me again. “Don’t encourage him. His ego is already entirely too big.”

Diego stopped as he passed me and grabbed my wrist to turn the phone toward him. “That’s not all that’s big.”

“Ew! Gross!” I jerked my phone back and shoved him away.

He laughed as he walked out of the back door and toward the carriage house apartment where he lived. Diego had no problem living with Mom and Dad forever if they let him. He had free meals, groceries, and rent while he tried to make it big with his band. Granted, they were really good, but so far they were only doing small gigs around New Orleans.

“Thank you for that,” I told Lauren. Though they’d never hooked up, thank goodness, they flirted shamelessly. But I knew exactly what she was doing just now. Lauren was my ride or die girlfriend and always got me out of a fix. She was well aware that Diego was like my father when it came to the guys I dated, sticking his nose into my business where it didn’t belong.

“Always happy to help. Okay, I’ve gotta go or I’ll be late. But I’ll see you next week.”

“Have fun tonight, and text me when you’re back in town.”

I ended the call and opened the cabinet, finding the tortilla chips, and then grabbed the salsa from the fridge. I found that crunchy snacks somehow helped when I was anxious.

The back door opened and closed again, and my other brother Joaquin walked in with a covered dish in hand. Though Diego, Joaquin, and I were triplets, I had two totally different relationships with them. While Diego was more of the protective brother, Joaquin was more my friend. We’d always been pretty close. So I wasn’t surprised when he immediately picked up on some of my anxious vibes.

“Hey. What’s wrong?”

“Why would anything be wrong?” I asked even though I knew he could always read me so well.

He rolled his eyes and set the platter covered with tinfoil onto the kitchen counter. He often brought us leftovers from the café. Then he walked to the counter where we kept the wine and liquor. “Is this a wine conversation or a bourbon one?”

Heaving a sigh, I said, “I don’t know if I want to tell you.”

He lifted the bottle of Dao with a questioning look.

“Yes,” was all I said.

I waited while he uncorked and poured two glasses. He was dressed in his black slacks and white button-down, his regular uniform he wore under his chef’s apron every day at the café. His dark auburn hair was beginning to hang down too far in the front.

“You need a haircut,” I observed as he sat next to me.

He didn’t bother to respond to that and instead went for the jugular as usual. “Who is he?”

“How do you know it’s about a guy?”

He took a sip of wine and didn’t answer. I was wondering if he had inherited psychic abilities along with his Enforcer designation as a warlock. He was both warlock and werewolf and possibly the smartest, most intuitive man I knew.

“Yes, I met someone, and I’m fairly positive Dad won’t like him.”

“Why not?”

“Mainly because he doesn’t fit the mold of the kind of guy Dad wants me to date.”

“You mean, he’s not a eunuch? ”

I nearly choked on my wine. “Exactly. He’s not a eunuch. He’s very much a . . . virile male. From what I can tell.”

He smiled. “He’s a werewolf, isn’t he?”

“How’d you know?”

“Because of the way your face is all lit up right now.”

I pressed my palms to my cheeks, like I could feel the blush there. “Why would that mean he’s a werewolf?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “Just a hunch. I had a feeling you’d finally get around to dating one seeing as all the men you love the most in your life are also werewolves.”

He was right. It did make sense, and yet, I had never dated one. “I think that could be good for you,” he added.

“Really?” I was surprised to hear him say that.

“Celine.” Then he sighed heavily. “You need to follow your heart. And stop trying to make the wrong guys fit into who you think you should be dating. Who you think are safe.”

We’d had this conversation before. I always went for the super safe kind of guy, not one who might be too intimidating or dominant or who might remind me of a certain someone in my past. Because of that, I’d been very unlucky in my dating life so far.

“When do I get to meet him?” he asked.

“I’m not ready for that. We aren’t even dating. We just met, but I”—I twisted the stem of my wineglass between my fingers— “I want to date him. Very much.”

“That’s a start. When will you see him again?”

“I’m not sure. I didn’t give him my number when he asked for it.”

“Why not? ”

“I wanted to, but it seemed kind of nuts. I didn’t really know him, and . . .” I exhaled a deep breath. “I wasn’t absolutely sure I should.”

My old anxiety reared its ugly head, reminding me not to trust too easily. Once, I had trusted someone and had almost come to harm. Thank the Goddess, Aunt Violet had seen what would happen before it did.

He reached out a hand and squeezed my arm on the table. “I get it. But not every guy is like him. You have to trust yourself.”

“Wish I’d sensed it that last time,” I said softly.

“You were young and still growing into your magic.”

Joaquin knew I didn’t like to talk or think about that part of my life from high school. It was enough to trigger my anxiety even after I’d learned to move past it all. I closed my eyes, breathed deep, and pictured a clear, blue sky, leaves rustling in the wind, a cool breeze on my face. My mom’s trick always worked. I opened my eyes and felt calm again.

“Tell me this,” he said. “Is his aura positive? Is it good energy?”

“Yes.”

“Would you be afraid to be alone with him?”

“No.” Actually, I sincerely loved the idea of being alone with him.

“Good. Now raise your glass.”

I raised it, then he clinked his glass to mine.

“Cheers to my sister dating a hot, virile werewolf. May the fates send one my way soon.”

I laughed. “You’d date a werewolf?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“They seem kind of, I don’t know, wild for your taste. ”

“Oh, sweet sister of mine, you don’t know my taste.”

“That could be true. Apparently, I didn’t even know my own until very recently.”

He chuckled. “Wait till Samara hears about this.”

My cousin Samara was my best friend. Smiling, I said, “Yes, I think she’ll enjoy this bit of news. But don’t tell Dad or Diego. I’m not ready for all of that nonsense yet.”

“Your secret is safe with me.” He stood and walked to the counter. “Now how about some of my shrimp and sausage pasta? I think it will go better with the wine than chips and salsa.”

Finally relaxed, we settled in to eat, while I tried to figure out a way to meet up with Ronan Reed again.