Chapter 10
Chapter
Ten
Axel rowed until the front of the boat scraped onto the gravel. He lifted the oars out of the water, stepped over the side, and pulled the boat farther onto the beach. Reese climbed out with the rope in her hand and tied it to the iron ring in the boulder.
He carried the cooler. Reese got her water bottle and her bag, and they went up the beach together.
The picnic ground sat just above the beach. There was a steel fire ring, a weathered table, and fir trees close behind. For a moment, the quiet pressed in. She was far away from town and alone on a secluded strip of shore with a man she barely knew. Anxiety sprang in her chest.
Then Axel set the cooler on the table, and she stepped back out of instinct. She took a breath, and the fear passed. Axel had helped her scrub her name from the internet. He was protecting her. She had no reason to fear him.
He built the fire quickly, using shavings and kindling.
It lit on the first match, and he added larger pieces as it grew.
She watched him crouch over the fire, the T-shirt stretched across his shoulders, the muscle in his forearms shifting as he fed the flames.
She thought there were worse ways to spend an afternoon than watching a quiet man build a fire and not ask her for anything.
He laid the grate across the fire ring and unpacked the cooler. Salted tomatoes, crusty bread, butter, peaches, lemonade, oil, herbs, lemon, plates, forks, and folded cloth napkins. He had packed for the fish before they caught it.
He cleaned the trout at the water's edge, rubbed it with oil, herbs, and lemon, and laid it over the coals.
The bread toasted beside it. When the fish flaked, he gave her the bigger share, spooned tomatoes onto her plate, and poured her lemonade.
The peaches went cut-side down over the heat for later.
She thought of Stella in the window booth while Blaze put her new shoes on her tired, pregnant feet. She took her first bite of trout, and it was the best thing she'd eaten in years. She'd caught it herself, and Axel had been by her side, cheering her on while he let her take the glory.
She'd been looking at the tattoo on his forearm all afternoon. It was a river, inked in gray along the back of his forearm, with lighter lines where the water moved fast and darker shading where it slowed.
"What's the river tattoo about?" she asked.
He turned his forearm so she could see the whole of it. "It's the South Platte. A river that runs through Denver. There's a fire station near it, a few blocks off the water." He looked at the ink instead of at her. "Somebody left me at that station when I was a few days old."
The fire ticked. She didn't know what to say. So, she let it sit, the same way he had when she told him such heavy things.
"The state named me. Axel, a play on words for the part of a fire truck. And Rivers for the South Platte."
He told her the rest without making her ask for it — the foster homes that never lasted, the knack for computers that became his one constant, Dom finding him through the work and offering him a place with Savage Steel. No family had ever come back to claim him.
"My childhood was a lot like that," she said.
His eyes came up from the fire and stayed on her. "How so?"
"My dad left before I could walk. My mother worked doubles until I was ten. Then she married a man with two kids of his own."
She buttered bread and took a bite.
"They made a family. The four of them. I was the extra kid they seemed to forget existed."
Axel stayed quiet.
"Nobody was cruel," she said. "But I always felt like I was in the way. I left at eighteen and washed dishes through two years of community college. My roommate's family was kind to me. It was pretty good for a while." Axel remained silent, and she felt safe continuing to share.
"Then I met Wade. He was older and well established. I thought being picked by him meant I'd finally have a family that belonged to me. But that's not what he picked me for."
"Men like that look for a woman who's isolated."
"I had a mother and a stepfamily, a couple of friends. But I was raised not to be a problem. Wade made me believe no one cared about me." She stared out at the lake. "By the end, I believed it too."
"It was a lie," he said. "I hope you know that now."
"I'm starting to remember." She let out a long breath, wondering to herself if it was true. She was letting Axel cook for her and give her a breezy day on the lake like she used to love back in college. It was helping.
Axel lifted the peaches off the coals, the edges dark with sugar, and set them on the cutting board. "I need to tell you something."
Her stomach dropped, and she braced for disappointment. She forced herself not to catastrophize. "Okay."
"Shifters have heightened senses," he said. "Like a sense of smell. Valeria, Brie, and Stella have all been pregnant over the last three years... I know what it smells like."
She understood what he was trying to say. "You know."
"You're pregnant." He kept his eyes on her, steady and calm.
"It's true."
He cut the peaches and set them on plates. She kept expecting him to call her a slur, tell her he couldn't be with her, degrade her for her past.
"It changes the threat profile," he said. "It doesn't change how I feel about you. You're my mate. I consider your baby my responsibility the same way I feel you are. I'll protect you both with my life."
She picked up the peach and ate it. It tasted like smoke and sugar. She finished it, even though her eyes stung a little. From tears or smoke, she wasn't sure.
"When are you due?"
"November."
He nodded once, taking that in. "Have you seen a doctor here yet?"
"Not yet."
"Then that's the next thing we solve." His voice stayed even. "Not tonight. Not unless you want to. But soon."
She looked down at the peach on her plate. "Okay."
The fire popped softly between them. Somewhere out on the water, a fish broke the surface, and the rings widened toward shore.
"Thank you," she said.
"We should get you home now. It's getting late. We'll talk more when you're ready."
They packed up, doused the coals, rowed back, and returned the boat. He drove her home in the late afternoon with the cooler riding behind them and soft jazz on the radio. At her building, he walked her up to her apartment.
"Thank you for coming out with me today, Reese," he said. "Spending time with you means a lot to me. Have a good evening."
He started to turn away, and she reached out and caught his sleeve.
She grabbed his arm, and he turned back to her. She went up on her toes and kissed him. He went still for a second, then cupped her cheek and kissed her back. He tasted like peaches and woodsmoke and safety. She broke the kiss before it went any further.
"Thank you, Axel," she whispered, her hands fisted in his T-shirt. "For everything."
They held each other for a moment longer before she stepped through the door and closed it behind her.