Chapter 4
Guilt assailed Henry as he waited until the rumble of her departing car ceased.
He’d acted rude, and that wasn’t him. London’s fault.
He might’ve held it together better if his friend’s wife hadn’t surprised him with her non-subtle matchmaking.
His breath came in quick pants, each laden with the essence of Maia—her rich, honeyed scent that called to him.
He banged his forehead against the door, not hard enough to make a noise—that would attract London and Gerard—but enough to break him from the Maia spell.
Finally, he opened the door and headed toward the kennels. His dogs didn’t judge or have unrealistic expectations of him. All they wanted was food, exercise, and companionship—a scratch or two behind the ears. Affection.
Jenny had died, and he didn’t think he had the strength to try again when life was so uncertain. No, it was better to remain alone. He had friends and his dogs. He didn’t need more than that.
Footsteps from behind had him stiffening. He cursed under his breath and prepared for the conversation he didn’t want to have.
“Henry?” Gerard’s voice didn’t hold anger, and that was something.
Luckily, Henry’s stepdad hadn’t witnessed his rudeness, sparing Henry from his wrath on Maia’s behalf.
His problem, as he saw it. If he gave into this insidious need, disaster would ensue.
Maia was still so young. He did the calculations again in his head.
Yeah, maybe twenty. He was so much older in years—even if he didn’t look it—and in life experience.
No, Maia was better off without him in her life.
“Henry, talk to me. What’s going on?”
“You’ll tell London.”
Gerard’s hand closed around Henry’s biceps and dragged him to a halt.
“You’re my friend. If you tell me to keep this to myself, I will.
If you don’t trust me, call Sam and Lisa.
Talk to them because it’s obvious you need to speak to someone.
You’re twisting yourself up inside. I don’t need to use my shifter senses to see this.
Even London has noticed. She sent me after you. ”
Henry groaned, his thoughts in turmoil. “Please don’t repeat this to London. I don’t need the extra pressure of her poking her pretty nose into my affairs.”
“She doesn’t do that.”
“She does. I love her like a sister, but the woman likes to mend things. I don’t want anyone to fix me. Everything is fine.”
“But that’s the thing. It’s not,” Gerard said, his tone even.
“I’m your best friend. Your business partner.
Look, I won’t force you to confide whatever is bothering you, but you’re behaving strangely.
London has noticed. She’ll want to set the problem right no matter what you do.
Why don’t you take time off? Go to Queenstown and let off some steam. ”
It was on the tip of his tongue to tell Gerard everything, but at the last moment, he rejected the idea. London would wriggle the truth out of his friend. Gerard couldn’t help himself because he loved his mate and would do anything for her.
His chest expanded with his deep breath, and the cool air wiped away Maia’s scent and lingering presence. “You’re right. I should get away for a few days.” But he didn’t want anyone except Maia.
“I can feed and exercise the dogs. We have nothing urgent with security. I’ve got a couple of quotes. Wait, one quote is in Wanaka. Could you do that one?”
“No problem.” Yeah, this was a good idea. He could do the job and perhaps some cold calling while there. They could always use more business.
“I’ll tell London you’re not feeling well and have a headache.”
“Yeah, she’s bound to believe that.” Henry didn’t hold back his sarcasm.
Gerard laughed. “Which is why it is the perfect excuse.”
Right. He had a headache, but it had a name: Maia.
And he had no bloody idea what he’d do to shift the pain that assailed him.
He rubbed his chest, but the pressure of his fingers did nothing to ease his inner turmoil.
He had a mate—a potential mate, he corrected himself.
There were dozens of single men in Middlemarch who’d sell their souls to find a perfect-for-them woman.
“When you return, we’ll help with the mid-year Christmas floats. Dad and Megan offered to help, but Saber and London need more volunteers,” Gerard said, dragging Henry from his inner torture.
Henry was used to Gerard referring to Jacey as Dad. He and Gerard were as close as brothers, and his stepfather was the father figure for both of them.
“Christmas.” Henry wrinkled his nose, but keeping busy would keep his mind off Maia.
Maia fumed during her drive home. Henry was strange, and she hated the constant urge to be in the same place as the moody man. That piece of stupidity would wear off fast if he continued his surly behavior. She disliked grumpy men. Life was way too short to frown.
A sudden smile formed as the thought popped into her head.
Her father used to say this when she’d had a bad day.
It was over ten years since her parents had died in the vehicle pile-up on the Auckland motorway, but she missed them every day.
She wondered what her mother would think of her playing rugby and laughed aloud.
Her mother would worry she’d become a tomboy.
Her father had been a massive All Blacks fan, New Zealand’s national rugby team, so he might’ve encouraged her.
She’d never know.
Great, she was doubting herself. That big oaf’s fault.
Maia pulled off the main road and turned into her driveway. She frowned when she coasted to a halt in front of her house. When she’d left, the porch light had been on because arriving home in dark, unfamiliar surroundings creeped her out. It wasn’t now. She fumbled in the glove box for her torch.
Maia grabbed her handbag and climbed out of her car. After locking it, she scanned the torch over the footpath before her. A tiny gasp escaped, and she came to an abrupt halt. Her heart hammered faster as her brain tried to understand what she’d seen.
Was that blood?
She inched forward, her heart thumping so loud it was deafening.
“Oh!” The sound was a soft explosion of air as she stared at the defined footprint on the path.
The footprint in blood. Maia swallowed and sent the torch light ahead.
Nothing out of place on the porch, and the front door remained shut.
Maia retreated to her car and locked the doors. Her urban fantasy heroines might be kick-butt and strong. They might act brave, but neither were they stupid. Creating intelligent heroines was part of her brand, and they had a lot in common with her.
She called the cops.
It didn’t take long before a sleepy feminine voice answered.
Maia cleared her throat and introduced herself.
“Hello, I’m Maia, and I’ve moved into a property on March’s Road.
I had dinner with Gerard and London Drummond.
The porch light—I left it on, and I thought the bulb had blown.
I found my torch and…” She paused, aware she was blabbering instead of stating concise facts.
“Yes.” The female cop sounded more alert now.
“I found a bloody footprint on the footpath leading to my front door.”
“Are you somewhere safe?” the cop asked, a sharp note in her question.
“I’m locked inside my car.”
“Excellent. Stay there and remain on the line. I won’t talk to you, but I’ll hear if you need me urgently.”
A clunk sounded on the other end of the line, and Maia tried to calm her racing pulse.
A prank meant to scare the district newcomer.
Nothing more. Maia reached for the lock before her commonsense reasserted itself.
While it might be a creepy prank, it might not be.
Ten minutes wasn’t too long to wait to appease her curiosity and answer her questions.
About six minutes later, she spotted flashing headlights. She held her breath and let it ease out when the vehicle turned into her drive. A man and a woman exited the marked police car.
The woman came to her window, and Maia opened the door.
“Maia, I’m Laura, one of the Middlemarch cops. This is Jonno, my husband, who isn’t a cop and will stay with you while I investigate.” There was a soft, masculine growl, and Laura laughed. “Where did you see the footprints?”
“Straight ahead on the path. Do you have a torch?”
“Yes,” Laura said. “Did you see or hear anything after you contacted me?”
“No, but honestly, my heart was beating so loud I might’ve missed someone creeping around. Is this a practical joke?”
Laura frowned. “Possible, but if that were the case, I would’ve thought I’d receive more calls because people usually share a good prank. Stay there, and keep the door locked. We’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Maia had no trouble following the cop’s instructions. Laura seemed competent and had an edge that suggested she had the mental toughness necessary for the job.
The flashlight beam bounced across the path, although Maia was too far away to see the blood.
The pair halted about a third of the way to the house before approaching more cautiously, their strides slower.
Maia’s hands fisted, and she focused on breathing, running through the same exercises she did on game day to conquer her nerves.
The house had appeared secure when she arrived, and she’d seen no evidence of intruders. She’d left the house locked tonight. No, this must be a nasty trick meant to scare her.
Well, consider her unnerved.
The pair took the two steps to the entrance, the flashlight piercing the darkness.
Maia wished she was closer because now that the local cop was here, anger, frustration, irritation, and a hundred other emotions pumped through her, reactions that she’d no doubt use later when her heroines were detecting or fleeing monsters.