by T. S. Joyce
“Matters to me.”
She frowned over at him. “Why?”
“Because I get the feeling you are a very tough egg to crack, but you just gave me the yolk. You gave me the real stuff, Karis. You gave me an authentic look into your heart. You want a baby. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that. You got burned bad by someone who didn’t care about your wants and needs, and you are scared of jumping in with someone else. It’s terrifying to open yourself up to hurt like that again. It’s the most understandable thing in the world.”
“But it won’t change rule number one?”
“Nope.” He draped his arm over the back of the seat and jerked his chin at her. Come here, his fiery gold eyes said.
With a sigh that she let taper into a growl, she unbuckled, scooted over to him, buckled into the middle seat, and crossed her arms and legs.
“You’re so cute when you’re unaffectionate.”
There was a smile in his voice, and she wanted to elbow him in his side.
“You’re like a cat, and I’m like a dog.”
“I don’t even know what that means,” Karis grumbled, remaining perfectly still as his arm fell to her shoulders and he drew her against his warm side.
“I’m dumb and affectionate and happy-go-lucky. You are unaffectionate, standoffish, glare a lot, could definitely use those claws, and try to remain aloof with me. Won’t work, though. I’m gonna turn you into a dog.”
“I assure you, you will not.”
“Well, I assure you,” he muttered, pulling in front of a small cabin, “that in three months’ time, I can get just about anything accomplished. Buckle up, Kitty Cat. I’m gonna give you some bark.”
Chapter Seven
Karis stared at the small cabin illuminated by the headlights of Colt’s truck. It was everything and nothing like she expected all at once. There was a small front porch with just enough room for a single rocking chair and a small stack of logs. More cut wood lined the side of the house. The door was on the righthand side and looked to be rust-colored, reinforced steel. There was a single front porch light in the form of a lantern that glowed attractively, casting a halo of gold light on the snowy front yard. The roof was comprised of wooden shingles, from what she could tell through the frozen white stuff, and an inside light shone through the single old-fashioned, six-pane, warped window beside the door. And in that window, there sat a sign that said Beware of Dog. Only Dog had been marked out and replaced with the hand-painted word, Squirrel. Beware of Squirrel. Huh. That was kind of funny.
“It ain’t much. I should’ve sent you a picture. Truth be told, I meant to, but I thought if I did, you wouldn’t come.”
Karis looked out her window at the bigger cabin a hundred yards off, lit from inside.
“I know it’s small,” he rambled, “but its bones are sturdy. If you want cubs quick, I could add onto it. I can build good. I used to work for a construction company. Well…I worked for a lot of companies. Anyone who was hiring, I worked for them. And I know she don’t look like much, but it’s home.” He sighed, and she could feel him watching her. “It’s called a cattleman’s cabin. Old Man Massey, Trigger’s dad, he used to hire someone to help work the cattle in the summers, and they would bunk in this place. I fixed it up, but…well…it’s small. I know a girl like you deserves better, it’s just—”
“I love it.”
“What?” Colt blinked hard and shook his head. “I’m sorry, I thought you just said you love it.”
“I did. It’s beautiful. Little homey cabin surrounded by snow. Look at all those evergreens, Colt! It looks like a postcard.” She squinted at a snow-covered pink plastic bird. “Well, except for the flamingo in the yard. In a way, it reminds me of the place where I grew up.”
“You lived in a cabin?”
“No, but I lived in a small house, with eight step-siblings and two parents, and it was cramped, but fine. It’s really cute.”
He was looking at her like she’d lost her mind. “Did you read the text where I told you I live with a wishing squirrel?”
Karis laughed. “Yes, but I didn’t respond because, honestly, I didn’t know how.”
“Okay, let me set up the backstory. Imagine a stormy summer evening, about two hours of daylight left. I was out bringing in a first-time heifer—”
“Wait, what is a first-time heifer?”
“A heifer having her first baby.”
“But after she has a baby, she’s a cow…right? Not a heifer anymore?”
“Goddammit, Karis, you sound like Trigger giving me crap over calling them that. Shhh.”
Karis bit back a smile and zipped her lips.
“Anyway, I was bringing in this cow and her new little calf before predators got to it, and I have these senses that are just…fucking with me. I was three years Turned and still had barely a lick of control, and sometimes I would have moments where I could hear and see everything. Every single thing around me. It was overwhelming. I was up on my horse, a bay gelding, well-mannered because I was determined he would not be an asshole like Trigger’s horse, and I’m watching the south end of this cow, meandering toward the barn with her calf, and I hear this tiny squeak. I mean…it’s so little I think a mouse had babies somewhere. But it sounds distressed, and it was grating on me. As I followed this cow I couldn’t hear the hoofbeats against the ground or the bird sounds in the tree. It was this little squeak. Squeak! And I was irritated because the little bugger was giving me a headache. I wanted to Change and end its life. That was the plan when I started seeing red. I was gonna eat that little mouse, just for reminding me I was a monster. So I went hunting. I was losing daylight, but I followed those little cries for help, planning on how fast I was gonna Change and snuff it out of existence just for annoying me. And then I saw her.”
“The wishing squirrel?”
“Yep. Little Genie was barely old enough to have hair, and her eyes were still closed. Her tail was juuuust getting those longer hairs on it, and I knew her for a squirrel right away. She had fallen out of a tree, and the mom wasn’t nowhere around. I was gonna step on her with my boot and put her out of her misery. Little pitiful thing, writhing around, couldn’t even walk, and what chance did she have of survival? None. I was gonna do her a service and not even eat her. But as I positioned my worn-out boot over that little baby squirrel, she stopped squeaking and went still, like she was waiting on me to make a decision—end her life or save her.”
“And you saved her,” she murmured.
“Yep. I couldn’t squish her, and when I squatted down and picked her up, she was cold to the touch, but she curled up in my palm, and I could feel the scratch of her tiny nails clawing at my skin like she didn’t want me to put her down. So I put her in the front pocket of my hoodie and drove that cow and her calf to the barn. Then I went straight to town and rented a book about raising a baby squirrel. The feed store was closed, but I called Marley who owned it at the time and begged him, said it was life or death, and he came up to the shop and let me grab what I needed to keep Genie alive through the night. I stayed up with her, kept her warm, fed her milk replacement out of this tiny little bottle, didn’t sleep a wink, just scared that all this effort would be wasted and she would die anyway. As I was holding her in a little washrag against my chest, I was stroking my finger against her head, saying over and over how I sure wished this little critter lived, and guess what?”
“She lived.”
“She lived. And time after time, over the last couple years, when we’ve hit a drought, or a predator mauled the herd, or the lights got shut off, or we got right on the verge of war with the Darby Clan, I’ve held Genie and wished for a different outcome than where we were headed. It happened, so…she’s my wishing squirrel. I even wished I got to bang Frieda Thompson, the weather girl on channel nine, and last year, guess who showed up in the GutShot when I happened to be there on a bender?”
“Frieda Thompson? Wait…” Something green and angry snaked through Karis’s middle. �
�Did you actually bang Frieda Thompson?”
“Hell no, have you seen my face? Girls dig scars, for sure, but not when they ruin a face. I did jack off to her though, like four times after I saw her at the GutShot, and that was close enough.”
Karis cracked up as a wave of potent relief washed through her. “I would love to meet Genie.”
“I think you mean you would love to eat her. Genie isn’t that polite. In fact, she might have actually come from Hell instead of the tree branches like I initially thought.”
Karis snorted. “She can’t be that bad. She’s just a squirrel.”
“Yeees,” Colt drawled out. “She will probably adore you coming into her home.” He cleared his throat. “Genie is about four-hundred-eighty percent territorial.”
“Of your house?”
“No. Of me.”
“Oh.” Okay, that was a little weird.
“Giddyup, let’s go,” Colt said, shoving his door open.
Frigid wind blasted her in the face for a moment before he shut the creaking door to his truck. She smiled a little because he’d really just said “Giddyup let’s go,” which reminded her of the way her step-dad used to talk when he wanted her and her brothers to get a move on. She got out of the truck just in time to watch Colt punt the snow-covered pink flaming out of his front yard and into the woods behind the house.
He was muttering something under his breath, but even with her shifter hearing, Karis couldn’t make out what he was saying. He inhaled deeply, stomped his boots on a welcome mat that said Fuck Off, and then he pushed open the door with the side of her suitcase.
The first thing Karis saw as she stepped inside was Genie. The adorable little squirrel was running across the back of the couch right toward her. And for a split second, Karis thought, Oh my gosh, she is so cute. She wants to hug me! But then she leapt through the air, and as Karis held her arms out to catch her, the fury in that little critter’s eyes filled her instantly with regret. And then she felt the teeth, little needle-sharp fuckers that dug straight into her wrist.
“Aaah!” she screeched as she flung the little hellion off her.
Genie landed on her feet on the floor, turned around, and came right back at her.
“Nope,” Colt growled, plucking the hairy little demon from the air as she leapt for a second attack.
He cradled her to his chest with an apologetic smile on his face for Karis, who was holding her wrist against her left tit, hoping it would make the bite less painful. Or alleviate the damage to her pride.
“She really bit me.”
“She don’t love easy.”
“Or at all, because she’s a rabid squirrel!”
“She ain’t rabid!”
Karis felt slapped. “Are you seriously defending her behavior right now?”
“No.”
Karis narrowed her eyes at where he was soothingly stroking the overgrown hamster, who was currently trying to scramble out of his grasp for a second go at Karis. “Let her go.”
“What? No, she’ll get angry again.”
“Let. Her. Go.”
Colt’s blond brows lowered and his eyes narrowed to stubborn little slits. “No. You look violent. Your eyes are silver. I don’t want you to squish my wishing squirrel.”
“I’m not going to squish her. You can let us hash this shit out, or she sleeps outside with the other fucking wild squirrels!”
“She doesn’t like it outside so that’s not—”
“Colton!”
He looked from Karis to Genie, who obviously wanted him to release her since she was making claw marks on his arms to escape. Both of the females in Colton’s life wanted him to let his hairy-tailed little monster go. “Fine!”
When he opened his arms, Genie used his chest to jump off. Only this time, Karis was prepared and was the one who snatched her mid-air by the scruff of her little neck. “No!” she roared into the hellion’s face.
Genie went still, her little hands balled up in fists. Oh, there was still fire in her eyes, but Karis had scared her. Or at the very least shocked her into stillness. They glared at each other until the squirrel blinked and looked away. The second Karis went to put her down though, Genie turned and bit her again.
Fine. Karis marched right to the door and opened it, letting the snow blow in. She yanked Genie by the scruff of her neck right up to her face so they could look each other in the eye. “If you can’t be nice and share this place, you can sleep outside.”
“She don’t like sleeping outside,” Colt said, stepping closer.
“Stay there,” Karis snarled. She glared at Genie again. “What’ll it be, Squirrel? Share the house or sleep outside? I’m a scarier animal than you, and you’re pushing my fuckin’ buttons.”
“She probably don’t even understand you,” Colt muttered.
“I bet you talk to her all the time like she’s a human. She understands just fine.” This was a dominance issue, plain and simple. Genie liked being queen, and clearly Colt had let her get away with bad behavior for her whole life, but as long as Karis was here, that heathen squirrel was dethroned.
She eased up her grip on the critters neck skin, and Genie bit her a third time, right on the inside of her pointer finger. With the flick of her fingers, Karis tossed her out into a snow drift. Poof!
“Hey!” Colt said.
Genie exploded from the drift and ran up the porch stairs just in time for Karis to slam the door in her face.
When she turned around, Colt’s eyes were bright gold and red crept up his neck. “You had no right to—”
“I had a man who wouldn’t stick up for me ever. I’m here because of that.” Karis jammed her finger at the door. “You just watched her bite your mate, but you pet her. You pet her, Colt. She’s spoiled, and what good has that done you?” Karis ripped the Beware of Squirrel sign out of the window, and there was Genie, sitting outside on the ledge, glaring at her through the glass. With a sign of frustration, Karis turned around and shook her head at Colt. “We’re fighting. I have three bites on me from your pet, I’m bleeding in three places, and you didn’t stick up for me once. You stuck up for her. She is the way she is because you allow her to be this way. You trained her that it’s okay to attack people.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“You did! You didn’t reprimand her for hurting me. You just stood there, petting her. I’m not sleeping in the same house as her until she can be nice. I can leave tomorrow if you’d like, and you can go back to your life with Genie.” Tears burned her eyes, and she blinked hard to keep them in place. She parted her lips to say more, but her voice would crack, so she set the sign on the small, two-seat dining table, grabbed the handle of her suitcase, and made her way to the set of stairs that led upward to a loft bedroom. She muscled her luggage up to the space, set it down, then turned to watch Colt through the rails.
He stood there, watching Genie through the window. If he let her back in, Karis was done. She’d gone through this with Jackson. He let others say bad things about her. Let others hurt her and never said a thing against anyone. In fact, more times than not, he actually agreed with them, and it had destroyed her self-worth. She wasn’t doing that again.
Colt sighed out the word, “Shhhit,” ran his hands roughly over his hair, and gave Genie his back. And then he made his way to the stairs and started climbing them.
Well, crap, what did she do now? She was still on the verge of tears, and he was going to fight with her more? She plopped down on the bed.
Without meeting her eyes, Colt sat on the edge of the bed beside her and clasped his hands on his bent knees. Here it came. He would tell her to leave, just like Jackson did. Karis closed her eyes and braced herself.
“You’re right,” Colt said in a deep, rumbling voice.
“Wait…what?”
“She hurt you, and I didn’t have my protective instincts in the right place. That was fucked up of me. You called her a pet.” Colt arched that bright gold gaze to her. “And it’s
true. But you’re more. You’re a potential mate, and it’s up to me to take care of the things that are important. It won’t hurt Genie to sleep outside. Especially not after what she did. Now, let me see.”
“See what?”
Colt reached over and gently pried her hand off her wrist. She hadn’t even realized she’d been clutching it to her stomach. Shifters healed a little faster than humans, but it still took time, and Karis was still bleeding from the worst bite on her wrist.
Scooting closer, Colt slid his arm around her shoulders and asked, “Are you okay?”
“I…” How should she answer? No one ever asked her if she was okay—not when she was hurt, not when she was offended, and not when she had a bad day. “I’m okay. It only stings a little.”