Chapter 10 #2
Shan hesitated again, then bowed his head. She popped up on her toes, but it was still an awkward stretch to reach the pudding plastered above his ear. Without thinking, she braced her free hand against his shoulder.
She hadn’t meant to lean on him. It had just seemed natural. She was used to friendly, casual physical contact at camp—exchanging high fives with kids, or giving a fellow counselor an encouraging pat on the back.
Now, she was abruptly all too aware of the intimacy of their position. She was right up on her toes, body almost pressed against his. Heat rushed to her face…and also lower down.
Oh, no. Most shifters had keen senses even in human form. She froze, praying the lingering scent of chocolate would mask her arousal.
If Shan was experiencing a similar involuntary reaction, he didn’t show it. He supported her weight stoically, not moving. In fact, he didn’t even seem to be breathing. She might as well have been leaning against an unusually attractive brick wall.
Oh God, he could smell her. He was only trying to do his job, and here she was draped over him, radiating pheromones like a cat in heat. No wonder the poor man seemed to be trying to astral project his consciousness to a different plane of existence.
She wanted to apologize, but that would only have made the situation even more embarrassing for them both. Since Shan was clearly trying to pretend this whole thing wasn’t happening, she attempted to do the same.
This is fine, she told herself as she dabbed at his head with the paper towel. Nothing weird about this at all. Just helping a colleague.
A very muscular, handsome colleague.
Who smells good.
…Really good.
“Huh.” She sniffed the air, trying to decipher that rich, enticing blend of chocolate and spice. “The cooks must be trying a new recipe.”
“What?”
“Nothing. Just that normally the chocolate pudding tastes of brown and regret. Maybe Conleth increased the kitchen budget.” She wiped the last of the dessert from his neck with the paper towel, repressing the urge to use her tongue instead.
“There you go. All clean. Or at least, clean enough for now. I’ll get back to the kids while you change your shirt.
And I’ll make sure to have a word with them about their behavior. ”
Shan straightened, his right hand dropping from his sunglasses. “There is no need.”
“Nonsense. We can’t have you dodging flying pudding for the rest of your stay.” She tossed the paper towel into the trash. “Don’t worry. I’ll put a stop to this.”
There wasn’t much opportunity to confront the guilty parties about Shan that evening.
After dinner and Zephyr’s speech welcoming everyone to camp, the campers relaxed around the bonfire, catching up with friends they hadn’t seen since last summer and making new ones.
Watching Finley, Beth, Estelle and Archie chatting with the others, Leonie decided against pulling them aside just yet.
No matter what else is going on, you have to make sure they all have a good time at camp, she reminded herself. Telling the kids off on their very first evening would hardly set the right tone for the rest of the summer.
Still, she’d promised Shan to put a stop to the constant ‘accidents.’ At bedtime, she decided to tactfully broach the subject one-on-one.
“Beth,” she said, as the girls were all climbing into bed. “Before you go to sleep, I want to talk to you about Shan.”
Beth instantly sat bolt upright, as if spring-loaded. “Do you like him?”
“What?” Leonie said, somewhat derailed by the unexpected question. “Of course I do. I wouldn’t have asked him to work with me if I didn’t.”
Estelle’s head appeared over the side of the upper bunk, upside-down. “Yeah, but do you like him?”
This was not where she had expected the conversation to go.
“I just said I did,” she said, pretending to misunderstand. “He’s a very diligent and capable man.”
From the look Estelle gave her, she was not fooled. “Yeah, but do you think he’s sexy?”
“That’s not an appropriate question, Estelle,” Leonie said firmly. “Shan’s my co-counselor, and I respect him. And on that topic, you kids need to show him more respect. I know you’ve been trying to peek under his sunglasses. That’s got to stop.”
“Do you know why he always wears them, Leonie?” Beth asked.
“Yes, I do.” Having seen Shan’s hands, it wasn’t hard to deduce that his eyes must be equally inhuman. “But that’s between him and me. If Shan doesn’t want to talk about it with you kids, you all need to respect his privacy, understand?”
“In some books, eyes are the one thing that always reveal someone’s true nature,” Tiff said thoughtfully from the next bunk. “Maybe he’s a demon.”
“I can assure you, Tiff, that Shan is not a demon,” Leonie replied, though she suspected Shan himself would have disagreed. She raised her voice, addressing the whole dorm. “No more talking, girls. Time to go to sleep.”
A general chorus of awwww and already? came in reply, but most of the girls quietened, settling down in their bunks.
Leonie turned off the room, slipping out of the dorm. As she pulled the door closed behind her, she distinctly heard Estelle whisper, “She didn’t answer my question.”
Leonie grimaced. Well, at least she’d made it clear the campers weren’t to keep prying into Shan’s personal business. She’d just have to make sure to behave more professionally around him herself. Kids were way too good at picking up on things adults were trying to hide.
She headed for the junior boys’ cabin, which was set some way off from the girls’ cabin. Just as she reached it, Shan emerged, somewhat rumpled. He shut the door behind himself, then leaned on it, rather like he was holding back a horde of ravenous zombies.
She surveyed him, mouth quirking up. “Boys give you a rough time, huh?”
Shan straightened, adjusting his sunglasses. “Archie instigated a pillow fight. Counselors against campers. I am not sure who won.”
“If you can still walk, you did.” A few downy feathers clung to the front of his T-shirt. She moved to brush them away, then checked herself. After the awkwardness in the bathroom, it seemed best to avoid casual contact. “You, ah, have some battle debris stuck to you. Any casualties?”
He started to pick feathers from his black T-shirt. “Pillows or children?”
“Either.”
“Not so far.” He released the last feather, letting it spin away. “Though I continue to have misgivings about this plan.”
“So am I.” Aware that the boys could be eavesdropping, she started walking away from the cabin, beckoning him to follow. “Though only for your sake. I’m sorry, I honestly didn’t think this would be such a hazardous assignment.”
He fell into step with her, somehow managing to move silently even on the gravel path. Though she barely came up to his chin, he didn’t seem to have any trouble adjusting his stride to match hers. “I have faced greater dangers.”
She wasn’t so sure of that. “You sure you still want to go through with this? It’s not too late to back out.”
He shook his head. “You asked for my help.”
“I wouldn’t have, if I’d known the kids were going to inexplicably turn into feral little monsters.”
“You asked for my help,” he repeated, as though this explained anything. “I am glad to be able to assist you.”
Leonie had always liked helping people. Still, it was nice to have someone wanting to help her, for a change. She found herself reaching to squeeze his arm, and jerked her hand back, flushing. What was it about the man that had her constantly forgetting the entire concept of personal space?
She cleared her throat, hoping he couldn’t see her blush through his dark glasses. “I appreciate that. I came to ask you if you’d like to join me at the senior staff campfire. It’s something of a tradition for us all to get together on the first night of camp.”
Shan hesitated. “I do not wish to intrude. I am not really a staff member, let alone a senior one.”
“You’re my co-counselor, even if only briefly. That makes you one of us.” She smiled up at him, knowing he’d taste her sincerity. “Please come. I’d like you to be there.”
Shan exhaled through his mouth. “Very well.”
In the evening, most people tended to congregate in the central square, but the senior staff had their own private area, set in a secluded area away from the rest of the buildings.
It wasn’t fancy—just a small firepit surrounded by a few log benches—but it was somewhere they could talk freely without being overheard.
The leadership team had to maintain a certain level of decorum in front of other staff, but sometimes you just needed to let off steam.
She and Shan were the last to arrive. When she led him into the warm circle of firelight, the other senior staff were already there, comfortably arranged around the firepit.
Honey sat on one log, chatting to Moira and Ragvald, while next to her Buck glowered at the fire as if it might leap up and burn down the whole camp without constant supervision.
Paige—her expression a combination of bemusement and exasperation—reclined in an actual upholstered armchair, her feet in Conleth’s lap.
Zephyr was pacing around the group with a slow, bouncing gait, his baby fussing against his shoulder. His eyebrow quirked as he caught sight of Shan.
“Good evening, Agent,” Zephyr said. “How was your first day?”
Shan took a seat next to Ragvald. “Interesting.”
“Exhausting,” Leonie corrected. She held out her arms. “I don’t know what’s gotten into those kids. I need cuddles. Lots of cuddles.”
“Here you go.” Zephyr passed her the baby. “Though she’s a little cranky at being up past her bedtime.”
“Daddy will take you home soon, sweet girl.” Leonie nuzzled the top of the baby’s head, breathing in her soft, milky scent. “Oh, yeah. That’s the stuff. I don’t know how you get anything done, Zephyr. I’d be standing around huffing her all day.”
Zephyr laughed wryly. “I admit my productivity has taken a hit. Combining work and parenthood is rather more challenging than I anticipated.”