9. Stellan
STELLAN
“Dad.”
The urgency in Indigo’s voice had me rushing to the front door. If Miles was drunk again and ranting about the tenants, I’d heft him down the stairs and read him the riot act. I might also suggest he join a group or get therapy to help with his alcohol addiction.
But my mate wasn’t outside, and I didn’t scent him as my daughter raced around waving something.
“We’ve been invited.”
Oh no, was this one of Jon’s mystery parties where we had to solve a whodunnit?
There were always arguments between the tenants because “as a shifter, a criminal would never do that,” or “if he was a dragon, he’d just take his wings.
” The who done it usually ended in who I think did it and I’ll have my beast scare you if you disagree with me done it.
Poor Jon never learned, and each party ended in standoffs.
But Jon never used glitter on his invites. I doubted he even knew what that was. And the paper or card was in the shape of a fish. Were we going fishing or dining out?
I hope it’s fishing. My bear was enthusiastic, though if Indigo was with us, she’d stay on the riverbank while my beast frolicked in the water.
“We’re going.”
“Wait a minute.” After the cat incident with Miles, I was wary of “we have to do this” statements.
“It’s today at three.” She leaped around the living room, meowing.
“Can I see?”
My daughter threw the invite across the room, and I caught it.
She’s got a good aim, my bear noted.
“It’s from Miles, Dad.” Indigo got on tiptoes and looked over my shoulder. “You said he was a good guy after you talked to him.”
I sniffed the card. Why did it smell sweet? My bear loved sweet fruits like cherries, but he turned his nose up at the citrus aroma.
“It smells like orange marmalade.” Indigo seized the invitation out of my hand and sniffed it again.
Was that human code for something?
“That cat’s called Marmalade.” My daughter bopped round the room to a tune in her head. “I love it ‘cause she’s orange.”
I hadn’t agreed to anything, but Indigo had apparently made the decision for me. Being in the same room with my mate and daughter made me anxious, and I tugged at my collar. Indigo would pick up on me acting weird, though she was at the age where she labeled everything I did as odd.
“I’m going to make her a toy. Cats like strings and crinkly things.”
There was no excuse for why we couldn’t attend that would satisfy Indigo, so I’d have to grit my teeth and go. I fortified myself with coffee and yet more coffee while my daughter constructed a toy.
She rummaged in my scrap bin for a piece of wooden dowel and gathered ribbon and feathers from her dress-up box.
“What do you think?” Indigo twirled the toy in the air, and I imagined the spilled coffee and smashed vases that would result after Marmalade ran after it.
We have to go, my bear insisted.
I agree, but it might be awkward. Not to mention that my beast would want to mate Miles and I’d have to fight him off. My bear, not Miles.
Indigo looked at the clock every five minutes until just before three.
She had the toy in one hand and the door open, and I’d been instructed to carry the cake tin containing the cookies we’d made.
These were chocolate chip, thank gods, so I didn’t have to pretend to like oatmeal. My bear and I shuddered at the thought.
As we walked down the stairs, I rehearsed conversation topics in my head. Miles and I hadn’t seen each other since I spent the night in his armchair. We could talk about the weather, the cat, or my work, and I could ask him about his job, whatever it was.
Miles’s door was ajar when we arrived, and Indigo acted as though she’d known him all her life. She charged in, yelling, “We’re here.”
“Hi.” Miles didn’t appear upset that we’d barged in. He had color in his cheeks and his eyes weren’t bloodshot like the other night.
Though as he gazed at me, his face became more red as heat crept over his neck.
“Thank you for coming.”
Indigo was cuddling Marmalade who, if I had to guess, didn’t seem like the cuddly type, but she was putting up with it.
“I didn’t get a choice.” I managed a smile and cocked my head toward my daughter.
That got a laugh out of Miles which cut the tension. He thanked us for the cookies and offered Indigo a soda.
“Coffee?”
“Please.”
My daughter and Marmalade were playing as Miles and I wandered into the kitchen.
“I owe you an apology.” His back was to me as he prepared the coffee. “For the night you stayed here. I don’t remember much, which might be good if I said or did more embarrassing things than what I can recall.”
I’d skip the bit about him calling me handsome, though I did run that line through my head every so often.
“You were fine.”
Liar. My bear thought I should tell him what he said, word for word.
Miles rubbed the back of his neck as he had done the day we met. Did he not know what to do with his hands or was that a nervous habit?
“It’s been a difficult few weeks. Moving is always stressful, but I was excited to find this place. But why does it feel as though I’m an outsider?”
I could have said that everyone else had been here a long time and we were family.
Accepting someone new always took some adjustment.
Or I could’ve spilled that he’d moved into a building full of people who could turn into animals.
I imagined his face when I explained that Indigo had a bear inside her.
If her beast chose this moment to lash out at the furniture, it would save me the effort.
But first, I had to figure out what to do about us being mates.
My den said fate couldn’t be ignored, but I’d deal with the pain of us not mating if it would disrupt my daughter’s life.
“You don’t need to apologize.” I took a detour instead of dealing with the problem head-on. “But I owe you an explanation. Not for that night but for other things.”
His brows shot up. “Sounds intriguing.”
I sighed because he had no idea what he was talking about.
“There’s a lot I haven’t said, and I owe it to you to be honest.” The poor guy. He thought he and I were just neighbors, one he had the hots for, and I was making out as though I was involved in espionage.
Miles handed me the coffee, and his fingers brushed over mine. “Okay. I don’t know what all of that means, but I’m patient.”
“Indigo is at Rudy’s on Friday night.” I blurted it out, copying my daughter’s habit when she was excited or nervous about something.
“Rudy? The older guy on the first floor?”
“Mmmm, she treats him like her grandfather.” I gulped and continued because I had to get this out. “If you wanted to have dinner, I could explain.” I almost wished Indigo would interrupt because my face was hot and probably matched Miles.
He grinned. “I’d like that.”
“Dad,” Indigo squealed.
She was a minute too late, but I was relieved Miles had accepted my invitation.
“Marmalade stole the toy and won't give it back.”
Miles went over to Indigo and whatever we’d shared faded. Indigo demanded a tour of Marmalade’s favorite hangout spots in the apartment, and I followed my daughter and my mate around as Miles chatted.
We ate some of the cookies, and Miles said they were the best he’d ever tasted, and when we left, my daughter narrated what had happened during the visit as if I hadn’t been there.
“You like Miles.”
She frowned. “Duh. Yeah, of course. He’s great, and he’s a cat dad. What’s not to like?”
Liking your neighbor and accepting them as your omega dad were two totally different things. But that wasn’t the biggest hurdle to a possible relationship.
That’s me. My bear didn’t understand why humans had a problem with him and his kind, but he knew that was the reality.
It’s not your fault. If Miles couldn’t accept my beast, there was no hope for us as a couple. But I was racing ahead. Him thinking I was good-looking might be just about sex. He might not see a future for us.
There were so many roadblocks to us mating, but I had to focus on Friday night when I told him what? That I was into him. That was a start, and we’d take it from there.
At least this time when I’d hinted that maybe I liked him too, I’d done it when he’d been awake.