Chapter 5
It was going to be a cold, wet night, but Mark found a kind of peace in the chill.
The days when he would be human were ticking away, so every sensation became special.
Instead of cursing the icy wind on his skin, he cherished the sensation of exposed flesh unprotected by fur, of fingers heated by his breath, and toes that squished his soggy socks.
Miserable, but even this was beautiful to a man who didn’t expect to live to see the snow.
He heard her open the front door and step out onto the porch.
She’d been watching him on and off through the window for the last half hour, and he’d wondered if she’d eventually come out to talk with him.
He wouldn’t if he were her. But then he was notorious for not giving a shit what other people did.
She, on the other hand, appeared to have a softer heart.
“You’re going to catch your death of cold out here,” she said.
She stood in the doorway, electrical light framing her lush figure.
He remained in the shadows, trying to force himself to keep watching the grounds and not spoil his night vision by looking toward her.
But he couldn’t stop himself, so he turned and smiled.
“I’m pretty hardy.”
“You’re crazy,” she said, staring at the deluge outside. “Nothing dangerous is going to attack me in this.”
Except him. God, she smelled so good, he was already rock hard. Even with the wet in the air, he could smell her musk. Maybe even more so. Musk and something almost as good: hot coffee.
“I know you think I’m crazy,” he said, “and, frankly, you’re probably right. But I can’t leave you unprotected.” Not after knowing there was something so wrong out in the world. Something that had been inside the cabin.
She sighed as she joined him in the shadows, holding out the mug of coffee. “It’s just my dad’s cheap shit coffee, but at least it’s hot.”
He took it gratefully, sipping the brew fast enough that it burned his tongue.
His earlier java hit was wearing off, and he appreciated the brain boost. Sitting here scanning the world made him engage too many of his grizzly senses.
Caffeine would help keep him on the human straight and narrow.
Especially since she’d doctored the drink perfectly.
“Milk and sugar,” he said. “You know how to tempt a man, don’t you?”
She sighed when he’d expected her to chuckle. He turned to study her face. Sure, his joke had been feeble, but it hadn’t warranted that frown on her face.
“You do know I’m a paralegal, right? And I’ve worked on criminal cases.”
He had no clue what she was getting at, so he didn’t respond. Eventually, she would start talking again. It took longer than he expected, but in time, she leaned against the siding and spoke.
“This wouldn’t be the first time a man has created a situation just to get a girl to trust him.” Then she twisted her gaze back toward the den. “Though it certainly is the weirdest. And risking pneumonia is new.”
“I rarely get sick,” he said. He heard a rustle to his right and shifted to hear better. A possum hunting for trash. They never cared about rain. He relaxed again, though he kept his gaze on the darkness. “You should go back inside. Thanks for the coffee.”
“What if I’m attacked through the back door? What are you going to do then?”
“I set a couple traps in the back. I’ll hear it before you’re in any danger. Plus, I do a perimeter check periodically.”
He heard her sharp intake of breath. “You put traps in the backyard?”
“Just at the edge of your property line.”
“And what if I decide to go for a walk?”
“I’ll hear that, too, and join you. They’re not lethal traps, anyway.”
“Do you even hear yourself? Just how long do you plan to hang around?”
“Until you leave in the morning. Then I’ll set up a security system before your dad gets back.”
“A security system? My dad will never pay for it.”
That was true. Her father was the original penny-pincher, though not for the usual reasons.
He just never wanted the hassle of people invading his space for any reason.
Pave the driveway? Why bother? Watch for intruders?
He didn’t have anything anybody would steal.
Except, of course, he did. He had no idea how valuable his research was to a feral like him.
He heard her shift uncomfortably behind him, and he cursed himself for getting lost in his senses again. It was yet another sign that the animal was too close to the surface. He routinely forgot the ebbs and flows of human interactions.
“Look, it’s no trouble,” he said. “I’ve got plenty of money. And if I can keep you and your father safe, then it’s well worth it.”
“Safe from what?” she huffed, thereby taking the conversation full circle. She thought he was nuts. He was nuts, but not that way.
“I’m not abandoning you again,” he finally admitted. “Not when it costs me so little to keep you safe.”
“Again?”
Oh, hell. Had he said that out loud? That’s what came from trying to manage human interactions. He forgot himself and said the wrong things.
“So you do remember me,” she said.
Her words startled him enough that he turned to face her, no matter what it did to his night vision.
Did she seriously think he’d forgotten the best night of his life?
The one time when animal and human had been so perfectly in accord that everything aligned in absolute synchronicity?
And that she had been the center of that miracle of perfection?
Until it had unbalanced. Until he’d lost control and tipped into beast, then run in terror.
“Yes, Julie,” he said dully. “I remember you.”
“And you’re not going to abandon me again. Not going to run off howling into the night and never speak to me again for eight years.”
He stiffened. “I did not howl.”
She pursed her lips, apparently thinking back. “I really think you did.”
Well, he might have made a loud animal kind of noise. But grizzlies did not howl. “Maybe it was more of a roar.”
“It was…” She chuckled. “It was perfect. Until you didn’t come back.”
“And I’ve been waiting eight years to apologize for that.”
She arched her brows, her expression disbelieving. “You haven’t thought twice about me since that night until I showed up at your door today.”
“Not true.” So incredibly not true, she had no concept of how large a misconception that was. “But by the time I got my act together, you’d already gone back to Chicago. And you didn’t come back the next summer.”
“And Gladwin is so backwards there aren’t phones. Or even the postal service.”
He sighed, knowing she was right. “I was a teenage boy. We don’t communicate well.”
“I have news for you, Mark. You don’t communicate well now.”
Well, that was certainly true. “Look, I was a dick. I knew it wouldn’t work between us, so I just…let it go.”
She took a breath. “Why wouldn’t it work between us?”
Hell, she was like a dog with a bone digging at him.
But he couldn’t give her the truth. He couldn’t tell her that he was shifter and she was human.
Normally, that was just the ticket for someone like him.
A strong shifter had to mate with a pure human or risk a child who was too animal.
But even back then he’d known he was on the path to feral insanity.
There was no saving him, and that night showed him how far gone he already was.
After all, it had taken him more than a month to return to human.
Even his father had given him up for dead.
So he landed on a lesser truth and hoped she’d leave it at that. “You lived in Chicago with your mother. I lived here.”
“That’s your excuse? Long distance?”
He groaned. “To a kid that’s a big deal. Plus, you’re rich, and your dad’s a professor. My dad didn’t graduate from high school, and I ate stuff I killed, skinned, and cooked myself.”
She arched her cocky, impertinent, damn sexy eyebrow. “That espresso machine looked pretty expensive. Not to mention whatever security system you’re—”
“That’s now,” he said, hating that his face had flushed hot. “Back then we had nothing.”
“And you think I care about that? And if you think a professor makes a lot of money, then you clearly don’t understand academia.”
God, why wouldn’t she just give it a rest? “Like I understood that then,” he said. “Look, I’m trying to apologize. I was a dick and I’m sorry.”
She was silent for a long moment, but in that time he heard her breathing relax until she released a slow sigh. “You’re forgiven. Hell, you’re right. We probably couldn’t have made the long-distance thing work.”
“You had a boyfriend in Chicago, anyway.”
She jolted. “Whatever gave you that impression?”
“I saw your prom picture, remember?” She’d worn a crystal-blue gown that had hugged her curves, showed cleavage that made his head spin, and made him wonder if she ever made it past the front doors and into the dance. If he’d been her date, he’d never have let her out of his car.
She laughed. “That was my cousin. Trust me when I say you were the only one in high school.”
“What? That can’t be true.”
She shook her head. “You jocks always think life is an endless party of cheerleaders and casual hookups.”
“And you geeks never lift your nose out of your books long enough to see that there’s a whole world around you waiting to be enjoyed.
” What made that accusation even funnier was that he turned out to be the biggest geek of them all.
He was the one who hid himself in software coding rather than face what he was becoming.
By all accounts, she’d gone on to create a good life for herself in Chicago.
Meanwhile, she was silent for a long while, but in the end she said one word. “Touché.”
He grinned. “You seem to have ended up okay.”
“You’re the one with the expensive espresso machine.”
“It is my favorite appliance, but you can have it after I die.”
“Yeah, thanks,” she drawled, having no idea that he meant it seriously. Then she straightened off the wall. “So we’re good, right? Teenage drama all cleared up? I’m not holding any grudges, you’re not obligated to sit on my front porch and freeze to death. So go home, Mark. Live long and prosper.”
He smiled at her, glad to get at least this tiny mark off his soul.
“We’re good.” Then he drained the rest of the coffee and handed it to her.
She took it from him, and their hands touched.
Fingers entwined and held. Heat transferred from her to him and back again.
Lust slammed into him hard, but he didn’t move.
He wouldn’t break this moment of accord.
Not even when she blushed a fiery red and pulled back, coffee mug in hand.
“I’m glad I woke you up this afternoon,” she said.
“I am, too.”
Then he nodded to her and took off toward his truck. She stood there on the porch watching him as he started up the vehicle and drove it down the long driveway. He didn’t know how long she waited. He watched her until the rain hid her from sight.
Then he drove a few hundred yards farther until he found a good spot to park his truck. Five minutes later, he was doing another full-perimeter check. Fifteen minutes after that, he was back on her porch, tucked into the shadows as he waited for something wrong.
Just in case.