24. Chapter Twenty-Five #2
My pen stopped against the notebook while the excitement remained exactly where it was.
Something less pleasant simply joined it.
Being gone that long meant no Malek, Tavian, or Luca.
No temple, no nest, and no falling asleep surrounded by cedar and damp earth, citrus leaves and spice, sandalwood and herbs, all mixed with my own scent until the room had become familiar in a way hotel rooms and temporary field beds never did.
It meant no Tavian handing me fruit with the confidence of someone personally responsible for whether I'd eaten enough that day, no Luca quietly noticing that I needed something before I'd finished deciding whether to ask, and no Malek sitting close enough for our knees or shoulders to touch while saying almost nothing and somehow making the silence comfortable.
Three months without their purrs suddenly sounded considerably longer than twelve weeks had on the screen.
I realized my fingers had moved toward my gland again and dropped my hand into my lap just as another thought surfaced.
I could turn it down.
For several seconds, I stared at the email, more startled than tempted by the possibility.
“No.” I said aloud as I frowned at the screen, irritated with myself rather than Caroline.
I'd turned down jobs before. Plenty of them.
I wasn't desperate enough to believe every opportunity automatically deserved a yes.
I'd refused assignments because the timing was terrible, the compensation didn't justify the work, the planning felt unsafe, a client expected far more than they were willing to pay for, or the subject simply didn't interest me enough to justify spending weeks away.
None of those things applied here. The timing worked, the compensation was good, the project was legitimate, and I wanted to photograph pumas badly enough that I'd already started mentally sorting which lenses needed servicing before I'd finished reading the email.
The only reason I'd even considered refusing was because I didn't want to be away from three men. I leaned back, the wooden chair pressing against my shoulders while the ceiling fan clicked faintly overhead.
“When the hell did that happen?” I asked the empty room as I stared at the screen, genuinely wondering when Malek, Tavian, and Luca had become part of a decision that used to be simple.
Malek was easiest to trace backward because he'd been Cat before he'd been Malek.
Maybe it had begun beside the creek when I'd believed he was nothing more than an injured leopard and he'd tolerated me cleaning blood from his fur, or maybe it came later, after I learned who he really was and discovered that beneath all that quiet Alpha intensity was a man who wanted me close but was trying very hard to understand that wanting something wasn't the same as having the right to decide it.
Tavian had probably slipped through my defenses somewhere between making me want to strangle him and appearing with another tiny forest treasure because he'd decided I might like it.
A seed, a shell, fruit I hadn't asked for.
He remembered which things made me laugh, which animals annoyed me, what foods I reached for first, and how much time I needed after waking before conversation became survivable.
Luca was harder because Luca rarely announced what he was doing.
He'd learned where I kept the radio because he'd watched me put it there, moved the table because rain had started reaching my equipment and then made sure I understood I could move it back, and left an empty box, shelf, and drawer rather than deciding what should go inside them.
Somehow, he managed to help without making me feel handled.
Maybe it had happened when all three of them stood outside my nest and waited for an invitation instead of assuming they belonged inside.
Maybe it was when I'd looked at Malek's shirt, Luca's blanket, Tavian's seed and shell, and my old lens cloth all mixed together and thought Home.
Or maybe there wasn't one moment at all.
That seemed more likely.
It had happened through a hundred ordinary things that hadn't seemed important enough individually to name, and somehow it had still happened fast enough that I hadn't recognized it until another assignment forced me to imagine being gone for months.
I loved them.
All three of them.
For several seconds, I simply sat there while the quiet hum of the equipment and the distant calls of birds outside continued as though I'd realized nothing more important than tomorrow's weather forecast.
Oh.
My eyes moved back to the length of the project.
Oh, shit.
I covered my face with both hands and let out a muffled groan.
“This is ridiculous.” I told myself from behind my palms, my cheeks heating even though nobody was around to witness it.
It was fast. I wasn't confused about that.
If someone had told me when I'd arrived that before my six-week assignment was finished I would fall in love with three Alpha leopard shifters living in an ancient temple, I would have recommended sleep, water, and possibly a medical evaluation.
Knowing the timeline sounded absurd didn't make the feelings imaginary.
I lowered my hands and stared through the open window, where late-afternoon light filtered through the trees and insects buzzed against the screen. The part that unsettled me most wasn't even the love itself. It was how much I liked the life forming around it.
I liked having somewhere I wanted to go when work finished.
I liked opening the sleeping-room door and seeing my belongings mixed with theirs, knowing Tavian would probably be talking, Luca would notice something I'd overlooked, and Malek would inevitably end up sitting close enough that part of us touched.
I liked being missed, and apparently I liked missing them too.
Temporary places had always been easy. I arrived, worked, packed, and moved on.
Even my apartment mostly functioned as a place to keep my equipment and mail between assignments.
The temple hadn't made me want to stop traveling; it had simply become the first place in a long time that I could picture coming back to on purpose.
“Why do you look like somebody insulted your camera?” Mara asked from the doorway, her dry voice pulling me from my thoughts as she stepped inside with a metal water bottle tucked beneath one arm and dirt streaked across the toe of one boot.
“No one insulted my camera.” I told Mara as I turned toward her, trying to arrange my face into something less suspicious while the heat lingering in my cheeks made that difficult.
“That sounded defensive enough that now I think somebody definitely insulted your camera.” Mara replied as she crossed toward the worktable, amusement creasing around her eyes before her attention shifted to the open email.
“It's an email.” I explained to Mara as I angled the screen toward her, deciding the professional half of my crisis wasn't remotely secret. Mara leaned closer, bracing one hand against the empty chair beside me while her eyes moved over the sender's name.
“Wild Terrain?” Mara asked as recognition crossed her face. “The same Wild Terrain from the emergency cover?”
“The very same.” I answered Mara with a nod, pride pushing through everything else as I scrolled toward the project summary. “Apparently I didn't destroy their publication schedule badly enough to scare them away.”
“I told you those photographs were good.” Mara reminded me as she sat in the neighboring chair, her attention moving over the first few paragraphs. “What are they offering?”
“Three months in Patagonia.” I told Mara as I pointed toward the relevant section. “Pumas, guanacos, condors, several protected areas, conservation teams, possible cover use if I get something strong enough, and a feature built around the project.”
Mara read for a few seconds before sitting back, the teasing leaving her face.
“That is a serious assignment.” Mara said as she looked at me, genuine approval clear in her voice. “Especially when the first time they worked with you was an emergency where they barely gave you enough notice to pack lunch.”
“That's what I thought.” I told Mara as I tapped the compensation section. “The pay is good too. Better than I expected for my first full project with them, and the access is excellent.”
“Then congratulations.” Mara said warmly as she smiled at me. “You've spent most of this assignment crawling through mud for photographs. It's nice when the mud turns into another job instead of only ruining your socks.”
“That's going on a motivational poster.” I told Mara as I laughed, glancing toward the damp pair hanging behind my chair before my attention drifted back toward the email.
Mara noticed the shift.
“You're excited about the work, but something else is bothering you.” Mara observed as she rested her bottle against one thigh, her tone curious rather than prying.
“I really want the job.” I told Mara as I rubbed my thumb along the edge of my notebook. “I just wasn't expecting the length of it to bother me this much.”
“Because you'd be away that long?” Mara asked as she tipped her head slightly, waiting for me to continue instead of guessing.
“Because of what I'd be away from.” I admitted to Mara as I glanced toward the window and the endless green beyond it. Mara studied me briefly before understanding flickered across her face.
“Your mysterious jungle social life?” Mara asked, a small smile appearing without turning the question into a joke.
“Something like that.” I told Mara as I gave her a pointed look, grateful she wasn't asking for details I couldn't safely give. Mara took another drink from her bottle before lowering it again.
“You can be excited about the next job and still not be thrilled about leaving this place when the time comes.” Mara said, her tone matter-of-fact. “That doesn't sound particularly strange to me.”