Chapter Twenty-Jaxson
Waiting for the sun to set was pure torture.
I’d paced the damn room so many times I was starting to wear a path in the floorboards.
It wasn’t just the anticipation that had me keyed up.
It was her. Evie Castor.
Curvy, brilliant, stubborn as hell. And all mine. I could still taste her on my tongue.
Still feel her nails in my back.
Still hear the soft way she whispered my name when she thought I was asleep.
Damn. That woman was gonna be the death of me—and I’d die smiling.
“Oh my Goddess,” Ryan groaned from his bed. “Do you mind, Jax? Some of us aren’t getting any and don’t appreciate the love-sick Wolf pacing the floor like he’s starring in a bad country song.”
I looked over.
The big Grizzly was sprawled on his back, an arm over his eyes, radiating all kinds of sulky energy.
“What’s the matter, Ry? You allergic to joy?”
“I’m allergic to the scent of joy,” he snapped. “You smell like sex and pesto, and it’s making me homicidal.”
“Well, that’s not very community-minded of you,” I said, grabbing a pillow off the couch and lobbing it at his head.
“Just because your Witch hasn’t noticed you yet doesn’t mean you have to rain on my afterglow.”
“She growled at me, Jaxson. Growled. Like I was interrupting her snack time or something.”
“She probably was snacking,” Conrad muttered from the kitchen table, where he was currently doodling something that looked suspiciously like a heart with initials in it. “Bella likes snacking, too.”
Ryan sat up and pointed at him. “See? You get it. We’re two grown-ass Shifters stuck in romantic limbo while Romeo over there is already halfway to moving in and naming their future pups.”
I couldn’t help but grin.
“You jealous bastards will get your shot. Just gotta be patient.”
“Easy for you to say,” Ryan grumbled. “Your girl licked whipped cream off your chest, and you haven’t stopped smiling since.”
“She did more than that. She scratched me,” I corrected proudly. “Right here.” I tapped my shoulder. “It was hot.”
Conrad actually sighed.
“I think my Dad said scratching and biting is a good sign in magical-mate culture. Maybe it means the bond is strengthening?”
Ryan rolled his eyes. “You and your bedtime stories. Goddess help us all.”
I leaned against the wall and crossed my arms. “Look, if we’re serious about staying—and I mean really staying—we need to do more than smile at the locals and raid Bella’s bakery and the local diner for meals.”
“We pay for all our muffins!” Ryan said indignantly.
“Yeah, but she keeps giving us freebies, sweet, soft-hearted Witch,” Conrad pointed out. “Which I’m not mad about. But Jax has a point. We need jobs. Roots. Purpose.”
“Exactly,” I said. “And speaking of purpose,” I say and let the sentence trail off as I pulled a piece of paper from my back pocket and waved it around.
“What’s that?” Ryan asked suspiciously.
“An idea,” I grinned. “Or rather, an opportunity. Our neighbor, Councilwoman Levy—you know, the silver-haired Tigress who keeps pretending to garden just so she can eavesdrop on our conversations?”
“She complimented my ass last night before I turned in,” Conrad said.
“She pinched mine,” Ryan muttered. “I’m still emotionally recovering.”
“Well, gird your loins, boys, because she wants us for the fire department.”
There was a beat of stunned silence.
“She what?” Ryan asked.
“She said Castor’s Corner could use a few strapping young men with muscles and rescue instincts. Apparently, the old crew’s half-retired, and we look like the kind of men who can hold a hose.”
Conrad blinked. “Did she actually say that? About the hose?”
“She said, and I quote: 'I bet you boys know how to handle your equipment. We could use men like you at the station.'“
Ryan snorted. “Did she wink when she said it?”
“Twice,” I said. “One eye, then the other. Very coordinated.”
Conrad leaned back in his chair, arms folded.
“So you’re suggesting we become Castor’s Corner’s newest firefighters?”
“I’m suggesting we stop looking like a traveling supernatural boy band and start acting like part of the community. We want our women to take us seriously, right?”
Ryan scratched his chin. “I mean, you’ve got a point. Saving lives. Running into burning buildings. Wearing suspenders. Hats, even.”
“Yeah, no shirt required. The ladies would love it,” Conrad added dreamily.
“Alright, Magic Mike, cool it.” I chuckled. “I’m just saying—it’s more than a job. It’s a message. We’re not just passing through. We want to build something here. Protect this town. Help the people they care about.”
“And,” Conrad said, suddenly serious, “show them we’re worthy.”
We all nodded.
It wasn’t about proving ourselves with muscles or charm or even sex appeal—though, let’s be honest, we weren’t lacking in that department.
It was about intention. About showing our mates that we weren’t just after a fling.
We were after forever.
“Let’s talk to Councilwoman Levy right now,” I said, firming my voice and standing straight like this was a damn mission briefing.
“We’ll set up a formal meeting later. Maybe get a tour of the firehouse. We show up, offer to train, volunteer—whatever it takes. No more waiting around like lost puppies.”
Ryan let out a theatrical groan and flopped back onto the couch.
“Fine. But if she pinches me again, I swear I’m transferring to animal control. I’m not built for cougars, even if she is a literal Tiger.”
“You’re just mad she said you looked like a fuzzy sweet potato,” Conrad quipped from the armchair, grinning like a loon.
“She said snackable, thank you very much,” Ryan retorted. “Then, she winked, wheezed, and snorted. Simultaneously. That’s not normal.”
Conrad wiggled his brows.
“Deal. But dibs on the calendar shoot. I call October. I’ve already got a concept—me, a hose, maybe some magical steam for effect—”
“You would pick October, you basic bitch,” Ryan said. “You just want to be the Halloween month.”
“It’s called branding,” Conrad replied smugly.
I shook my head, chuckling under my breath as I grabbed my jacket.
“Come on, you clowns. Let’s do this before one of you ends up hexed for public indecency. If we’re going to make Castor’s Corner home, we’ve got to act like it. No more loafing. It’s time we earned the right to stay.”
“Earn it, huh?” Ryan muttered, rising to his feet with a reluctant stretch.
“Guess there are worse things than being a hot firefighter in a town full of supernaturals when we got Witches to impress.”
“Exactly,” I said. “This isn’t about the uniforms. It’s about showing our mates we’re not just passing through. We’re here to protect what they love. To be part of it.”
“Man, when you get like this, it’s hard not to follow you,” Conrad said, slapping my back as we made our way out the front door. “Your Wolf’s got serious alpha vibes.”
I shrugged. “I just know what I want. And I want to build something here—with her. With all of us.”
We walked the few blocks to Councilwoman Levy’s house, a charming bungalow nestled beneath two enormous magnolia trees. Flower beds exploded in color along the walkway, and a row of wind chimes tinkled in the breeze, casting a faint hum of protective magic in the air. Classic Tigress.
I knocked three times.
The door swung open so fast I swear she’d been waiting behind it.
“Well, dears,” Councilwoman Levy said, beaming like we were her favorite soap opera finally getting to the good part. “I was wondering when you’d get around to it.”
I blinked. “How do you mean?”
She leaned against the doorframe, a feline smile spreading across her face.
“You three came here for a reason. You think fate plopped you into Castor’s Corner by accident? Please. You’ve got that ‘mate-tingle’ all over you. And I haven’t seen men with thighs like that since the last centaur parade.”
Ryan made a strangled sound, but she wasn’t done.
“Now,” she continued, eyes twinkling, “let’s see how you’ll look in uniform.”
She waggled her perfectly striped black-and-white eyebrows at us like some kind of magical fashion judge, then turned on her heel and strode back inside with the command of a queen.
We glanced at one another.
“She’s terrifying,” Ryan whispered.
“She’s outrageous,” Conrad murmured.
“She’s our best shot,” I said, grinning as we followed her in.
Because I wasn’t leaving.
Not unless Evie told me to.
And even then, she’d have to cast a damn binding spell and hit me with a broom to make me go.
This wasn’t a pit stop.
Castor’s Corner was home now.
And I’d burn down every obstacle in my way to keep it.