No Fox to Give

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No Fox to Give Page 6

by Savage, Vivienne


  To the credit of the Dubois clan’s men, they weren’t the sort to froth at the mouth and savagely protect their womenfolk from outsiders and unapproved males, even when those males were shifters. That didn’t stop them from eyeballing Dean warily. They were going to respect her decisions, but they’d distrust him every second of the way.

  Marcus narrowed his blue gaze. His eyes were fair and almost gray, the color of a sky right before darkening clouds heralded a storm. His brother shifted his weight onto his heels and crossed both arms against his chest. Antonio never trusted outsiders, and Marcus was just as bad. They’d treated their new police chief like shit and caused all kinds of trouble across town before finally deciding the guy was safe and worthy of protecting the city.

  Now they had the same look for Dean.

  “Thanks for getting our cousin, I guess. No thanks for putting her on your death trap without gear,” Marcus said. “What good is a brain bucket when all her leg is exposed like this?”

  Coming to Dean’s rescue, Maddie stepped forward and poked him in the chest. “Like you said, I had a helmet protecting the most important part of me. Besides, the man steers that thing like he’s on the professional circuit.”

  If they fucked with Dean too much, she’d ask him for another ride and put up with every old woman from Crisis to Trinity whispering about her finally settling down.

  No. No time for men. No time for men, no matter how delicious he’d felt when she hugged up against his broad back with her arms around his body and those tight abs tensed beneath her fingertips. His stomach could have been chiseled from marble it was so hard and perfect.

  “Hey, the lady was stranded and your uncle knows all I got right now is the bike. Anyway, thanks for lunch, Maddie.”

  “Why are you thanking me when you paid?” Not that she hadn’t tried to first cover the entire meal then split the bill before the wily biker intercepted the waitress on her way back to the table—while Maddie was in the restroom—and paid the entire thing.

  She’d been mad enough to spit and if she had more than a debit card in her wallet, she would have shoved the thirty dollars for her share of the bill into his snug-fitting jeans pocket, wriggling her hand in there despite how firmly the denim held his ass.

  Now was not the time to think about Dean McAvoy’s beautiful ass.

  Maddie really wanted to grab two handfuls of it and squeeze, but as she wasn’t willing to make a fool of herself in front of her younger cousins, she did nothing but scowl at her handsome rescuer.

  “I’m thanking you for the blessing of your wonderful company this afternoon, ma’am. I’m not an ingrate.” Then he grinned at her before turning and wandering off.

  9

  The next few nights weren’t kind to Dean. If the old pick-up line had a shred of truth to it, Madeleine would be an exhausted woman after all the time she spent running through his thoughts. She tortured him, her mere existence inspiring wicked dreams where she acted out every sensual fantasy to ever grace his imagination.

  As much as he wanted her, the voice of caution told him he’d need to do more to charm this swan than flex his muscles. A woman like that didn’t come easily. She had to be earned, and she’d probably heard every line in existence.

  When the weekend came around again and her vehicle still hadn’t moved from the drive, collecting dust and a fine coat of pollen, he knocked on the door.

  Madeleine opened it a few moments later. There was a smear of red and pink on one cheek, and other colors caked beneath her fingernails. “Hey.”

  “Hey.” She didn’t wear much, just small cotton shorts and a tank top. His brain melted like a wax figure under a blowtorch.

  Error 404, Intelligence Not Found.

  “Something wrong?”

  He leaned forward into her space without meaning to, the predator in him wanting a little closer to his prey. Looking at Madeleine made his fox want to prance and leap. Made him want to bend her over the nearest stable surface while his teeth grazed the back of her neck. After he exposed every inch of her body to his wandering hands.

  “Came to ask you what’s up with your Escort?”

  “Marcus says the alternator needs to be replaced. Why?”

  There weren’t too many ways to answer her questions that weren’t an admission of keeping tabs on his neighbor. “Weren’t they fixing it the other day?”

  “They were.” She crossed her arms against her chest. “But you’re answering a question with a question. Why do you want to know?”

  “Uh.”

  “You might wanna tell the truth. I’m really good at seeing through lies. It’s a gift.”

  “Fuck.”

  Satisfied, she raised her chin and locked gazes with him. “Well?”

  “I came to ask if you needed help. That’s it. I noticed the car hadn’t moved and figured I could offer to fix it for you.”

  Her mouth pressed into a thin line as every aspect of her expression oozed skepticism. “Why would you do that?”

  “Neighborly thing to do.”

  Madeleine cocked one fair brow. “Try again.”

  “Oh, come on!”

  “Half a lie, maybe. A half-truth at best.”

  “There’s nothing sinister or dark and evil motivating me. Your ride is busted, and for me, it’s a quick fix. I just wanted to do something nice for you.” Because the beast in him demanded it and he’d never silence the damn urges if he didn’t invent another reason for her to notice him.

  Her distrusting expression softened. “I told Martin I wasn’t in a rush to get it repaired. He and the boys run a car restoration business and own their own lot. They pick up junkers and clunkers and repair them somehow, then get them onto the road again. Right now, they’re fetching a load of cars from near El Paso.”

  “And unable to help you out in the meantime.”

  She nodded.

  “Then I’ll do it, if that’s cool with you. I told Martin I’d earn my keep around here, and I’ve already built my reputation as the town handyman.”

  She nibbled her bottom lip, trapping it between her teeth and nibbling it. “Well…”

  “What do you have to lose?”

  * * *

  When Dean had asked her what she had to lose by letting him work on her car, two words had surged to the forefront of Maddie’s mind.

  My heart.

  No matter how much she tried to keep away from him, the guy had a habit of popping up in her business.

  “You may as well toss your panties off and give up,” Ellie teased as they sat in front of a romantic comedy from Redbox. She leaned forward and refilled their glasses from the enormous jug filled with a cocktail of Jameson’s, peach schnapps, and sour mix. “Resistance is futile, love. You got it bad.”

  “You did not quote Star Trek at me.”

  “Did. Look, this guy is sweet, helpful, and kind. Did you hear about what he—”

  “You can’t step into Nathan’s without overhearing someone’s mutterings about the last thing he did. I don’t want to hear it. They either love him or don’t trust him.”

  “True.” A second passed before Ellie’s features brightened, excitement dancing in her eyes. “But did you hear the latest gossip that he’s—”

  “Don’t start, El, please. A few days ago, when we had this conversation in reverse, you were telling me to give you time, right?”

  Ellie exhaled an exasperated breath. “The situations are different, but fine, your love life is your own. I hear you loud and clear, sister.”

  “Thank you. I just…if this deal goes through with Charlotte, it’s going to be huge for me. Life-changing. I won’t have time for relationships or dating.”

  “How is that going, by the way? You didn’t tell me much.”

  “I haven’t heard anything from her or the lawyers yet, but I figure no news is good news. She met with me as a favor to Martin since he restored some ancient car of hers passed down in her family from her grandfather or something.” She sipped h
er wine. “Honestly? I’d be ashamed about using family connections if she hadn’t looked so goddamned impressed with the idea.”

  “Are you surprised that she did? Mads, your idea is great. People are always saying how bored they are. You’ll be teaching again, but this time, you’ll earn the wage you deserve for all of your labor and effort. People will be paying for the supplies you offer, and if they wreck it—”

  “They buy it.”

  “Yes! It’ll be the best of both worlds, you earning a stable income and doing what you love. And I’m so excited for you. There isn’t a day that I don’t wake up and thank God that I opened Glazed and Confused.”

  “Hopefully. Could be months, maybe years before we turn adequate profit.”

  “You will.”

  “You have a lot of faith in me, chickadee.”

  Ellie only smiled. “Because you can do anything when you put your mind to it. Isn’t that what your daddy used to always say?”

  God. Times like this, she really missed her father. He’d been dead for three years, but every day of those three years was a day she wanted to see him smile one more time. She still walked out into the back yard expecting to see him in his chair on the dock with a fishing pole in one hand, a book in the other.

  And every afternoon that she didn’t see it hurt as much as the last.

  “You ever wonder if he’s looking out for us?”

  “I don’t need to wonder, Maddie. He is. He just traded one pair of wings for another.”

  “Yeah…”

  “He’d be so proud of you for taking control of your life and doing what you want with it. I’m really proud of you, too.”

  Maddie focused on the green-tinted booze in her glass, sipping it. Her eyes stung a little, but they always did whenever Daddy was the subject of conversation.

  Deep down, she knew he’d be proud of her, but he’d also be telling her it was fine to move on from her broken heart.

  * * *

  With way too many alcoholic beverages coursing through her blood, Maddie stumbled home a little past midnight. The night had started with cheesy romantic comedies, then they’d changed to horror movies and slasher flicks, deciding they were both too lonely and long overdue for sex to watch fictional people falling in love.

  After tucking Ellie into bed, Maddie made her way across the street. The street lamp at the end of the road didn’t reach the end of their cul-de-sac, and the only illumination came from her solar lamps and the porch lights.

  And if not for those solar lamps, she’d have never noticed a bushy red tail poking from beneath the mint growing under her windows. Maddie froze, a split-second after her shoe crunched on the gravel. The creature also froze.

  Wildlife wasn’t an uncommon sighting in Swan Lake, where the community was as much a preserve as it was a home for a few dozen shifters. Especially with its location on the edge of the Sam Houston National Forest. Deer were frequent visitors, and occasionally, a mountain lion passed through, but they never stayed for long.

  But a fox? That wasn’t a common sighting, and she wondered why it was there. Observing for a moment longer provided an answer, as he emerged with a fat rabbit clutched in his teeth. As far as foxes went, he had to be the most handsome fellow she’d ever seen.

  “Hi there,” she said to it. “Got yourself a nice dinner, huh?”

  She waited for him to bolt away with the prize, but he shocked her by setting the rabbit aside and bounding toward her.

  He stopped in front of her, turned in a circle, and pranced in place a few times until she laughed and wondered if he belonged to another resident. He wouldn’t be the first illegal pet owned by someone in Swan Lake, nor would he be the last.

  “Aren’t you just a friendly little guy?” And because Maddie belonged to a Facebook group named I Just Know I’ll Die Petting Some Animal, she crouched down and offered her hand.

  Her new friend paused, ears high, tail swishing, and then he rushed forward and collided with her chest. She stumbled back onto her ass like the drunken loser she was, with an armful of happy fox that smelled like rabbit blood, soil, and mint.

  And she loved every second of it.

  10

  Dean dropped the dead rabbit onto a sheet of plastic spread over the kitchen table.

  Running into Madeleine at midnight hadn’t been part of the plan. All he’d wanted was a late-night snack, and the convenience of hunting fresh meat in his shifter form beat a drive to the nearest McDonalds or twenty-four-hour Walmart.

  Her scent lingered in his nose, and more than anything, he wanted to wiggle once more into her embrace and listen to her sweet laugh when he tickled her throat with his whiskers. Irritated with the stubborn memory’s refusal to fade, he fetched his knives and began dressing the rabbit, making short work of a task he’d done a hundred times before in the past.

  Once, when he was a kid, hunting rabbits with his old man had been the highlight of his…shit, it had been the highlight of his everything. Back then, those weekends were the only time Dean’s father gave a damn about him until he reached his teenage years and could provide free labor at the man’s automotive shop. Of the asshole’s many children, Dean had been the only one born to a shifter woman. And when his father learned his son had a gift to exploit, he’d finally given him attention. Then the old bastard never stopped abusing it until the day his son enlisted in the Army.

  Eventually, Dean realized the only value he had to Christopher Callahan, Sr. was his ability to track a deer trail, flush out quail, dig rabbits out of their dens, and perform free oil changes for the constant influx of clients. The only upside to all the free labor he’d given his father was coming out of it with a love for working with his hands.

  Dean shoved those thoughts aside where they belonged. He’d been bottling up his feelings regarding his father for a long time since finally cutting the dude out of his life with surgical precision.

  Long after the rabbit was simmering in the crockpot with spices and herbs, he wished Madeleine hadn’t seen him, because now he couldn’t share his meal come morning.

  He still could, he supposed. But he’d also been told to keep his nature a secret. While gorgeous, she was definitely smart enough to put two and two together. Foxes weren’t the most plentiful type of shifter across Texas, rare compared to the abundance of wolves, bears, gators, ocelots, and mountain lions prowling throughout the Lone Star State. He’d met only seven in his lifetime, and three were closely related by blood—his mother, younger sister, and his grandmother.

  Damn. It was lonely living in the middle of nowhere far away from his kin. Since Danny Carlisle likely had an eye on him, Dean hadn’t been in contact at all. Right before he’d been ushered into hiding, some agent assigned him a phone with a brand-new IMEI number, claiming it was to avoid a crooked official tracking him by the old device and turning him over for a stack of cash. Carlisle fancied himself a modern John Gotti, and he had his fingers in a lot of pockets. Enough pockets that only a select number of people knew Dean’s whereabouts.

  Because if Dean went missing, the case would probably collapse. They had his statement, but the district attorney wanted him on the stand to testify. Worse than that, the bastard held a grudge, and as long as he was on the street to command his men, Dean would be in danger.

  They needed him behind bars and stripped of all power.

  * * *

  Maddie didn’t know what to expect the next morning when she looked out the window at the lake, but the sight of her neighbor, sitting shirtless on the dock, wasn’t it.

  Unable to help herself, she walked barefoot onto the grass and meandered down the stepping-stone path to the garden shed.

  Legend claimed a selkie could only transform if she had her seal skin, and likewise, a swan maiden could only return to her natural form if she had her cloak of feathers. Losing it meant they could never transform again, forever bound to a human form.

  And that was mostly true.

  Legends also said if a human s
hould find a swan maiden’s cloak and keep it, he had dominion over the unfortunate shifter, forcing the swan maid to serve his every whim.

  Definitely true.

  For those reasons, the residents of Swan Lake were particularly careful about who they allowed into their community. For decades, only swans, their mortal spouses, and the occasional outside shifter had been allowed inside.

  Now this man—this irresistibly sexy, kind-hearted man who definitely knew about shifters—came along and seemed genuine in every way.

  Eager to stretch her wings, Madeleine stepped into the shed and transformed. Magic tingled down her limbs across every inch of her body, a thousand little zaps and sparks and sensations alight over her skin as feathers sprouted where only smooth flesh had been. Her body contorted and changed, she shrank, but her wings remained as strong and powerful as the arms they had once been.

  Nudging the door open exposed her to hundreds of sounds roaring beyond the shed, her world alive with colors and smells her human body hadn’t perceived. Insects buzzed and zipped, gnats swarmed, and the wind whipped through the fruiting trees. In the distance, a fish burst from the water then slapped onto the lake again, and the storks soared high on the summer wind.

  So long had passed since Maddie last moved as a swan that she stood in awe of it all, as if she’d transformed for the first time.

  Excitement flashed in her veins and sent her running, zipping over the grass and spreading her wings to take flight. At first, she soared over the lake a few times, enjoying the wind filtering between her flight feathers and against her white belly. Then she came around and made another pass, aware of Dean watching her. She landed on the water, not close enough to disturb his fishing, but near enough that she could watch.

 

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