Chapter 4 Braedyn
brAEDYN
I hadn’t been stunned silent many times in my life. When I accidentally broke a neighbor’s window at age nine. When Vincent told me he didn’t want anything to do with me or my child. When I finally held Owen in my arms. The first time I saw the Pacific Ocean.
And now.
This moment. As a man who looked like some cross between a professor and a biker with mountain-man height and shoulders prowled toward me.
I should’ve been scared. I told my brain as much. Said to reach for the pepper spray in my pocket. To call Yeti.
But I didn’t. I was too busy ogling him.
It wasn’t just his rugged beauty—though he had that in spades. It was something else. An energy that clung to him. The same kind infused into his skin by way of his tattoos. It wasn’t as if he was covered from head to toe, but he had a healthy dose of ink.
Art that ghosted over his forearms and hands led to bare biceps and then gave way to a piece on his chest that stole my breath. I couldn’t help but study the image that pulled taut over toned muscle.
A phoenix.
My mouth went dry as the design on my own rib cage seemed to heat. The man’s phoenix was surrounded by wisps of smoke and ash, and I swore the creature’s eyes glowed as they burned into me.
“What the hell are you doing in my house?”
The barked words had me pulling back to the here and now, regaining some sense of sanity as I heard my little boy’s laugh outside as he played with Yeti. Just because this man had a tattoo similar to mine didn’t make him a friend.
But I wasn’t the only one who heard the words spoken with an edge of anger. Yeti did, too. And she didn’t appreciate them directed at her human.
As I pulled out the pepper spray, Yeti tore up the steps of the cabin and charged in front of me, letting loose a ferocious growl. She didn’t attack the man, just stayed between him and me, but the surprise of it was enough to have him stumbling back a step—stumbling back and losing his towel.
The shock of the sequence of events was enough to have my jaw dropping right along with the terry cloth.
And I suddenly didn’t know where to look.
I didn’t want to take my eyes off him in case he made a move, but I couldn’t look anywhere on his very toned body without flushing to the shade of a tomato.
The man swiped up the towel and covered himself as Yeti bared her teeth. He cursed, backing up another step as a new voice joined the chaos.
“Mom?” Owen asked.
Normally, I’d revel in the fact that my son had called me Mom instead of bro or bruh, but all I could think about was that this situation had just gotten so much worse.
“Why is there a shirtless dude in our new house?” he continued, completely unshaken.
I let out a strangled sound, clamped a hand over my son’s eyes, and backed out of the doorway. “I’m not sure why there’s a shirtless dude in our house.” But it was better than the naked one from thirty seconds ago.
The man let out a strangled sound as my dog growled low in her throat. “It’s my house. Blaze rented it to me fifteen minutes ago.”
Crap on a cracker.
When I picked up the keys, the landlord had seemed a little out of it. I really hoped he wasn’t some scam artist. “He rented it to me two months ago, and I have a year’s signed lease.”
The man muttered another curse. “Can I move to get dressed and get my phone, or is your dog going to rip off an appendage I’m fond of?”
Owen giggled at that. “Yeti won’t bite you. She’s supes friendly.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” I hedged. “Better move quick or she could get hungry.”
The man made a choking sound.
“Viens ici,” I commanded Yeti. She slowly moved back to me.
The man tilted his head to the side. “French?”
I shrugged, not wanting to share my answers with him. “You’ll want to get dressed.”
I turned then, trusting Yeti to watch my back as I got Owen down the front steps and back toward the SUV. I nibbled on my lower lip, wondering if I should call the sheriff’s department. I quickly dismissed that thought. The authorities in Starlight Grove already thought of me as a nuisance.
But I’d be a thorn in every single side if it meant they’d help me find Nova.
Owen tipped his head back. “That guy has glasses like me.”
I brushed some blond strands away from his face as I tightened my grip on my pepper spray with my other hand. “He does.”
Owen hated his glasses. Had hated them since some kids in his class were cruel about them. But he also always noticed when someone else wore them.
The screen door slammed against the frame, and I instantly braced.
I whispered another command to Yeti, telling her to be on guard.
She wouldn’t make a move unless I asked, but she would also not let the man get anywhere near Owen and me.
It was one of the things we’d worked on, along with the search-and-rescue training. And right now, I was damn glad I had.
I lifted my gaze as I released my hold on Owen and shifted so I was another layer of protection. Even with as much as I’d been through, raising Owen as a single mom, I hadn’t truly been suspicious of the world around me until Nova disappeared.
Everything changed in that single second. Afterward, I couldn’t help but see everyone with an air of suspicion until they proved themselves trustworthy.
Now that the man was dressed, I could take in some other things about him.
Sandy-brown hair that was drying with a wave to it.
Dark-hazel eyes that held an edge to them, like a forest just before a storm.
He was clad in jeans, a worn tee that read The Boot, and work boots.
But it was the tortoiseshell glasses that had me curious.
Everything about the man said he refused to be just one thing.
He was also clearly astute because he didn’t miss how our little group aligned itself. The dog, then me, then my son. Something passed over those stormy eyes. Pain?
He stopped a good ten feet away, making sure we had plenty of space, and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Sorry about earlier. I just drove cross-country, found out I didn’t have a place to stay, got shat on by a bird, and thought someone was breaking into my house.”
A little tension bled out of me, and I eased my grip on the pepper spray. “Sounds like a no-good, very-bad day.”
One corner of the man’s mouth kicked up. “The absolute worst.” Suddenly, his eyes narrowed on something behind me. “You’re the worst. You’re the one who stole my parking spot. You’re the reason the damn bird pooped on me.”
Owen giggled. “Harsh, Mom.”
I glanced down at my son as he moved closer, before scowling at the man. “Excuse me, but I hardly think I control the sphincter muscles of our avian friends.”
“Should’ve recognized the dog right off. He stuck his tongue out at me after you swiped the spot. Then I had no choice but to take the bird-poop spot.”
“You’re not even making any sense. And her name is Yeti. And she is capable of appendage ripping like you were afraid of, so I’d watch your tone.”
The man moved as if to cover himself, wincing. “Adding insult to injury.”
“You’re the one who said I was the worst,” I shot back.
“A bird shat on my head.”
“Buck up, Buttercup. And if I’m the worst, you’re the worstest.”
His eyes narrowed on me at the word buttercup, clearly affronted.
“Sussy,” Owen chimed in. “You both are.”
“Sussy?” the man asked, brows pulling together.
I sighed. “Language of the youth.”
“Prolly comes from suspect or suspicious. You can also say sus,” Owen explained helpfully.
The man’s mouth twitched in a movement so quick I wondered if I’d imagined it. “Understood. Well, I’m gonna call Blaze because he is the one who’s actually sus.”
I watched as he tapped something on the phone screen.
“Yeah. You rent the same cabin twice today, Blaze?”
I could hear muffled grumbling on the other end of the line.
The man pinched the bridge of his nose, shoving his glasses askew. “Yeah, it’s a damn oops. I just scared the hell out of some woman and her kid. I was fu—” He eyed Owen. “I was freaking naked, Blaze.”
Loud laughter boomed from the other side of the line.
He pulled the phone away from his ear and glared at it. “Not funny. I’m gonna report your stash of Lolli’s brownies to the cops, then we’ll see how much you’re laughing.” A pause. “Yeah, yeah, I know it’s legal. I’m coming for the right key. Don’t go anywhere.”
He hung up without saying goodbye to the landlord.
I almost felt bad for Blaze if he had to come face-to-face with this cantankerous ass. He might be hot, but he was grumpy and slightly unhinged.
“Figure it out?” I asked hopefully.
The man shoved his phone into his pocket. “Gave me the wrong key. Looks like we’re neighbors.”
Oh shit.