5. Stellan
STELLAN
“More flour, Dad.” Indigo was already reaching for the packet before I agreed.
“Most of it's on the counter.” And on me, the floor, and every surface in the kitchen.
“Okay, but the cookie mixture still needs more.”
We were making oatmeal ones with extra raisins. I’d watched my grandmother make this recipe a hundred times growing up. Indigo loved it too, and I’d never let on to anyone that I hated oatmeal cookies. That was my secret, and I wasn’t sharing it.
The cookies were for Rudy who lived alone on the first floor. He was an elderly wolf shifter who’d been in the building longer than anyone, including Jon. Indigo had adopted Rudy as an honorary grandfather without asking his permission.
“He said his grandkids live too far away to visit for his birthday.” My daughter was elbow-deep in flour. “That’s so sad. Why don’t they come and see him more often?”
Ouch! my bear said, echoing what I was thinking.
Yeah, why didn’t people’s loved ones care about them? In Rudy’s case, his relatives did call and text, unlike the bear shifter who’d carried and birthed Indigo.
“Not everyone has the money to fly across the country, and Rudy refuses to move closer to them.” He loved living in Moonridge Place.
Indigo tossed in the raisins and added another half cup. “Rudy is a raisin fiend, and he deserves plenty on his birthday.”
I imagined those tiny dried grapes getting stuck in the older man’s teeth, but as long as he enjoyed them and my daughter was happy, it didn’t matter.
Indigo scooped the dough onto the tray. The shapes were nothing like circles, but she was having fun.
I loved cooking together, or her doing the work and me supervising.
It was just the two of us, as it usually was, and we were working with our hands.
We weren’t negotiating bedtime or puzzling over homework, and my bear liked it too.
There’s no trouble here, and it’s just us.
As the cookies baked, a cinnamon aroma wafted through the apartment, taking me back to my childhood. I was thankful Kipp hadn’t been into baking so I didn’t have to block out memories of him making cookies.
“I’m going to deliver them to Rudy myself,” my daughter announced as she put the cooled cookies into a tin. “Without you, Dad, because you’ve told me this building is safe and everyone’s a shifter.”
She was quoting my words back at me, and I didn’t object.
“I don’t want you hovering behind me looking weird.”
“I’m never weird.”
She gave me a withering look as she sailed out the door holding the tin.
I did follow her to the stairwell which was a habit rather than me being worried about her safety.
As well as the tenants being shifters, they’d all known her since she was in diapers, and it was only two floors down to Rudy’s.
Nothing could happen to her between the third and first floor.
But as my daughter’s footsteps echoed down the stairwell, I caught a human scent. It was familiar, but I couldn’t place it. Perhaps it was a delivery person who came here regularly.
No, it’s the one that was near the dumpsters, my bear reminded me.
Oh, you’re right. The one I’d wanted to chase after because it was tantalizing and intriguing. Today it was teasing me, and I half hoped I’d cross paths with the source of that scent.
But I had a mess in the kitchen to deal with and we had to do our weekly food shop later.
I’d wiped down the surfaces and finished the dishes before putting them in the dishwasher, and Indigo still wasn’t back.
She must have been chatting to Rudy, and I grabbed my phone to text him.
My daughter would fume at me checking up on her, but that was what dads did.
“Dad.” Indigo barreled into the apartment with an empty tin that she dumped on the couch. “Guess what, guess what?”
“Ummm, you gave Rudy the cookies?”
She bobbed her head. “But there’s more.”
“He thanked you and took a bite of one?”
Her head bobbled like one of those toys. “I met the new guy on the second floor.” Words streamed from her mouth. “And he has a cat.”
Oh no, Jon wouldn’t be pleased. He may as well perch in the trees all day, maybe take his bed up there.
“The cat got lost, and I found her and she’s orange.” Her voice rose a few decibels. “An orange cat, just like in the story you used to read to me. And the cat’s name is, ummm, I didn’t find out, and he said I could visit her any time I wanted as long as it's okay with you.”
Indigo took a breath and started telling me more about the animal, but I wasn’t listening. Instead, I stood up as I pictured a grown man inviting my little daughter to his apartment.
Rip his head off. My bear was raging along with me, and he was surging under my skin, wanting to take his fur and teach the new tenant a lesson he’d never forget.
“I have to go back because I want to give her the toy I bought for Mrs. Munro’s cat.” Indigo raced into the bedroom.
“He said what?” I needed her to repeat it before I dashed out the door.
“To come and see the cat.” Her muffled voice came from under the bed.
“Stay in the apartment.” I didn’t mean to scare her, but she appeared at the bedroom door and the excitement had vanished from her eyes.
“Dad, what’s wrong?”
“Just stay here. I mean it, Indigo. Don’t leave the apartment until I get back. Promise?” She mumbled her agreement, and I slammed the door behind me, taking the stairs three at a time.
In my head, I ran over the conversation I was about to have, except it would be one-sided and pretty short. Later I’d tell Jon the guy had to go, but I wavered about whether to involve the police who were human or mete out shifter justice which wouldn’t be pretty.
My bear was snarling and unwilling to let the guy say anything before he bled him.
I banged on the cat owner’s door, and it rattled, though my bear was telling me to break it down. And rather than wait for the guy to come to the door, I bashed it again, and it opened.
Oh, gods no.
We can’t take his head, my bear managed to get out.
We weren’t really going to decapitate him. Or were we?
But those thoughts were banished because his scent preceded him, and it snuffed out my anger. It was the same one I’d picked up in the courtyard and in the stairwell. Him, it was him, and he wasn’t just any man or any human. Oh my gods.
Seconds ago, he’d been a threat to my daughter and maybe he still was. Perhaps there’d be heartbreak in my future because I could never put my own happiness ahead of Indigo’s safety.
Mate. My bear only had that one word.
How did a human get to rent an apartment in this building?
He had one hand braced on the doorframe as if he hadn’t decided whether to open it further.
“Hi.” He looked me up and down, probably wondering why I’d almost beaten his door down. “You're Indigo’s dad. Did she ask for permission to visit my cat? I understand you’re probably wary, and I’d be concerned if you weren’t.”
I opened my mouth, but I’d lost the power of speech. He needed to stop talking, breathing, and just being.
“I’m Miles.” He rubbed the back of his neck. A cat, the same orange one Indigo had mentioned, wound itself around the guy’s legs. The animal bared her teeth, and I sensed she knew who I was.
But the mating instinct was so strong, I couldn’t do anything other than back away.
What are you doing? He’s our mate. I was doing the opposite of what I should be, according to my beast.
I stumbled into the corridor and headed for the woods. Indigo would be fine for thirty minutes, but I had to give my bear his fur and let him lumber through the trees and rage at me, Miles, and the world.
“Did I say something wrong?” His voice followed me outside, but I didn’t look back.
I had a mate and that should’ve been cause for celebration, but he was human and that presented complications.
No, complications were for people who lived in different cities or when one liked a soft mattress and the other a hard one.
He was human, and if I revealed who I was, he’d think it was fantasy. Or he’d think I’d lost my mind.
And then there was Indigo to consider. How would she deal with another man in her life? One who didn’t have a beast inside him? We’d muddled along together for years, and I’d understand if she resented me getting my happy ever after.
Not that I saw that happening with a man who would never know the real me.