by T. S. Joyce
A thin trail of smoke still wafted from the burn barrel. A fresh layer of snow coated the ground, drowning out any evidence that they’d been there last night at all. She crunched through the snow to the barrel and peeked inside. Evidence did remain. The ashes were the only remnants of her past. No more perfect pictures existed except for one scalded one that remained at the top, charred and blistered around the edges. Half of it was missing—the half with Brayden—and only she remained.
Only she remained.
A tremulous smile took her lips, and the weight lifted from her shoulders. She hadn’t even realized how heavy she’d felt, dragging all this baggage. It was okay that Brayden had a girlfriend. She didn’t wish a miserable life on him. She hoped he could be happy, just as she now hoped for happiness for herself.
He wasn’t a bad man. He just hadn’t been good for her.
Today was New Year’s Eve, and everyone spoke of resolutions. All over social media, all through her family. Resolutions for the upcoming year were this huge thing that she’d never appreciated before. Every year until now, she’d wished for selfish things: more money, better looks, a bigger house. This year would be different, though.
This year, she wanted to be a better person, whatever that meant. She wanted to get to the end of this upcoming year and look back and feel proud of herself for the first time ever.
There was a lot of work she needed to do between now and then, but she was going to do it. She would. Already the changes in her, no matter how small, made her heart feel better. Freer, perhaps.
Kimberly took another sip of her coffee and began to read the text messages from the family thread. Beth was complaining about the seamstress altering her dress too tight around her waist, Danielle was asking what Chef Jeffrey was making for appetizers, and Mom was blowing up the loop to make sure everyone would be on their best behavior tonight.
Kimberly, I’m concerned. After our meeting at the house, I’m worried you don’t have your head in the right place. There will be several eligible bachelors at our party tonight. I have attached a list of names and their accomplishments. I want you to wear the flowy white dress I bought you for your birthday. We need these gentlemen to see your beauty and think of you in a wedding dress.
Kimberly?
Kimberly are you reading this?
Respond now. You’re taking up too much of my head space with these things. I need to focus on organizing for the party tonight.
Kimberly!
I need everything to be perfect tonight. Brayden is coming and I don’t want you looking like a lost puppy. You need to look as if you are unaffected. There hasn’t been a Wilson divorce in four generations. I don’t want this to take any of our prestige away.
KIMBERLY?!?!?!
Kimberly snapped a selfie of herself in her blue sweater, leggings, and UGGs, complete with a beanie on her head and minimal make-up on. She grinned brightly. I’m wearing this tonight. Send.
Leslie’s response came through first. Haaahahaha, okay but you look hot. I’ll match you.
Mom probably just fainted again. Beth.
Because she is so stunned by your casual beauty, Leslie assured her. I’ll be to the shop in ten. I’m grabbing us bagels.
Bagels will go straight to Kimberly’s hips! Mom texted. Leslie, I demand you stop corrupting your sister right now. She’s not a lost cause.
Something about that pissed her off. And Leslie is? Send.
She’s a lion shifter who is constantly covered in paint, tells filthy jokes at every family function, makes everyone uncomfortable, doesn’t care about our prestigious name, and lives in sin with her animal boyfriend.
Mate, Leslie corrected her.
Kimberly speed-typed, AND future husband. Send. Why was her blood boiling so bad right now? Leslie hadn’t done anything. She’d told a joke in the loop, and Mom had just insulted everything about her life.
Whoa what is happening here? Danielle. Kimberly are you sticking up for Leslie? Hell has frozen over.
Kimberly speed-typed out, Leslie is currently my favorite family member. She didn’t judge me or remind me for the hundredth time that there hasn’t been a divorcee in our precious fucking family for the last four generations. She is giving me space to figure my shit out, but is still there for me and has yet to judge me, not even a little bit. I’m wearing the red dress I wore at Beth’s birthday party, Mom. It’s Burke’s favorite. Send.
Leslie responded with a mic drop gif just before Kimberly turned off her phone so she could avoid any negativity that accompanied one of Mom’s dramatic moods. She’d had a great night last night with Burke, and today Leslie was training her on the kilns, because you know what? Her sister was trusting her more and more with her shop, and Kimberly knew how much this place meant to Leslie. She—Kimberly Shame-of-the-Family Wilson—was earning the trust of people she respected. And that made her feel good.
Good shit only. That was her new mantra.
As she turned away from the burn barrel, the wind kicked up so that her burnt picture lifted and flew out of the barrel, landing in the snow at the toe of her shoe.
For a second, she stared at herself in that picture. In it, she was wearing a soft pink dress that hugged her curves perfectly, and her smile was big and perfectly trained, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She didn’t want to take pictures like that again.
Stooping, Kimberly picked up the singed picture and wadded it into a tight ball, then tossed it back into the burn barrel.
That girl in the picture wasn’t Kimberly.
Not anymore.
That was the old her.
That was the her that Kimberly wasn’t interested in finding again.
Chapter Ten
“I need advice,” Kimberly admitted out loud. Out-freaking-loud!
“Advice on what?” Leslie asked around a bite of bagel.
Distracted by how much cream cheese Leslie had smeared onto her bagel, she asked, “How do you not gain weight?”
“Oh, the lioness keeps my metabolism super high. I’m hungry all the time, but I burn it fast.”
“Lucky,” she murmured.
Leslie snorted and joked, “Yeah, I had to die for this metabolism, so lucky.” She frowned. “Actually, I do feel really lucky.”
“You had to die?” Kimberly asked, picking at her own bagel. She was curious about shifters now. “Kieran killed you?”
“He had to kill the humanity for the lioness to be born, so in a way, yes, he had to kill me.”
“Was it awful?”
The smile faded from Leslie’s eyes. “It would’ve been if Kieran and Burke weren’t there. They both prepped me for how it would be, the pain and transition into a shifter. And then they didn’t leave my side for the first three weeks. Burke took off work that whole time. Didn’t make a penny of income and camped out on the couch at Kieran’s. I still struggle with the animal, but that won’t last forever. The boys answer every question I have, and Kieran always changes with me so he can keep me in the boundaries of our territory.”
“It’s not an option. For me, I mean. I can’t be Turned.”
Leslie gulped a bite and leaned forward on the paint-splattered table of her pottery shop. They had fifteen minutes until opening, and Kimberly and Leslie rarely ever got alone-time like this. “Why would you want to be Turned?” she asked carefully.
“I wouldn’t!” she answered a little too fast.
Leslie’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, and the blue turned to a muddy gold color. “What did you want advice on?”
“Maybe a little advice on boys. I mean dating boys. I haven’t done it in so long and I don’t know what I’m doing. About dating. Boys.”
“By boys, do you mean Burke?”
Kimberly took a big bite of bagel to avoid answering. She just shrugged and rolled her eyes, but Leslie was like a dog on a bone now and wasn’t giving up.
“You like Burke.”
“He’s just…nice to me. And he’s helping me out at the New Year’s
Eve party tonight.”
“He’s your date?” Leslie asked, and there was that smile again, creeping across her pretty face.
“He already turned someone, Leslie,” Kimberly said low.
Leslie’s expression went completely blank. “What?”
“An ex. He thought she was his mate, but she was just with him so she could be Turned. And then she left him and started a life with another man. He used his Turn card on someone who didn’t stick.”
“Oh, my God. He’s never mentioned that.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, really. Kieran told me he had an ex-girlfriend a few years ago, but they split, and he hasn’t shown any interested in another woman until…”
“Until what?”
Leslie sighed. “Until you.”
“Doesn’t really matter.” Why did those words come out sounding so sad? “You know the rules. Lion shifters can only Turn one person in their lifetime. We met too late. I want to get to know him more, but there’s no future for us. He could be arrested and serve time if anyone found out we were even dating and turned us in.”
“So what? Is Burke not allowed to get close to a human woman again? He’s supposed to be alone for always because that woman burned him? It’s not fair.”
Kimberly shook her head. “No, it’s not. He has to find another shifter to pair up with, I guess. I’m not right for him.”
Leslie frowned so hard her forehead wrinkled up under her wild black curls. “There has to be a way around it. Let me do some research. Maybe if we get written consent from his ex, or we petition, or explain to the Bureau of Shifter Affairs or something. Kieran and I will think of something. Just keep being you, Kimberly. Don’t let this stuff in your head. Just get to know him, and everything will work out how it is supposed to work out. I’ll find out who his ex is and try to meet up with her. Get a written statement. You can come with me if you want to.”
Kimberly nodded and exhaled an explosive sigh. God, she felt so relieved. “You’re a fixer. I never knew that about you.”
Leslie beamed. “I sure am! I was just never interested in fixing anything inside of the Wilson Bubble.”
Movement outside caught her attention, and Kimberly watched a minivan pull into the parking lot. Their first customers of the day. “Wilson Bubble,” she murmured.
“Yeah, that’s what Kieran and I call it. There is a whole existence outside of the bubble, though. You’re going to have a big year, Kimberly. Your eyes are opening. It’s going to be so damn beautiful to watch what you do with your life.”
“Really? Leslie, I spent the last of my money on Hamburger Helper, just burned all the pictures from my marriage to Brayden, live in your tiny house, and still haven’t figured out the cash register. My life isn’t exactly the greatest show right now.”
“Mmm! Speaking of the last of your money. It’s pay day! Here!” Leslie pulled an envelope out of her purse and handed it to Kimberly.
She took it slowly, stared blankly at it as Leslie jogged to the door to unlock it and switch the sign from Closed to Come On In.
She’d earned this. It was the first paycheck she’d earned since she’d gotten married.
“What are you going to do with your riches?” Leslie asked.
Groceries? Another pair of comfy leggings? Get her nails done?
“I’m going to pay you rent on the tiny house and the bills I owe you.”
“On this pay period? It’s a short one since you started working right in the middle of it. I think after rent and bills, you’ll have seventy-two dollars left. You’ll get paid again next week, and it’ll be bigger if you want to wait until then to do rent.”
“Thank you, but I want to pay what I owe and get it behind me. I think I’ll be prouder of myself if I know I’m good for a month.”
Leslie’s smile was one she had never seen before. It was proud, and it pierced Kimberly’s heart in a good way. She had to look down before Leslie could see her tearing up.
“You’re doing good,” Leslie told her as she opened the door for the mother with three kids filing toward the shop.
“Thank you,” Kimberly said thickly.
“I was totally serious on the text loop earlier. I’ll match you if you go straight casual at a Wilson family party.”
Kimberly tossed her head back with a laugh and stood to clear off their paper plates and her half-eaten bagel that she was definitely going to save for lunch.
“You asked what I’m going to do with my paycheck,” Kimberly blurted out fast. “I’m going to pay living expenses, and then I’m going to get Burke a belated holiday present. I saw something in the store yesterday that reminded me of him. It was this platter for deviled eggs which sounds so lame but he said deviled eggs are his favorite, and the platter had a lion in a Santa hat painted on it, and it was seventy-five percent off from a Christmas sale and I’m going to find a recipe and make deviled eggs for the first time in my life, and give them to him on the lion platter. Because I think it’s okay that he’s a lion shifter, and he should know that.”
She turned away fast before Leslie could respond since the shop was consumed by the chaos of the excited family. The first of the day, and they would stay busy. They always did. But on her lunch break, Kimberly was going to rush to the grocery store and buy that little trinket for Burke as a thank you for coming to the party with her tonight.
Chapter Eleven
Burke blew out a steadying breath, but it didn’t soothe his nerves.
The flowers were too much. He stared at the bouquet of red carnations one of his customers had given him with their payment for the four cords of firewood they’d ordered.
She was in the tiny house, sitting at the little table, waiting for him. He could see her shadow from here.
Fighting the urge to chuck the flowers into the back and hide the evidence of his sentiment, he cracked his knuckles, shoved the door to his Bronco open, grabbed the flowers, and hopped out.
He really wanted to barge right in but, instead, he knocked in an effort to be a gentleman. The second she pulled open the door, he frowned down at the flowers in his hands and explained, “I know these are ridiculous and you’re probably used to gold-filigree super-rare flowers that only bloom one time every six years, but this is what I got. Carnations. Mrs. Hanover is this sweet little old lady who always buys four cords of firewood from me, and she’s always tried to give me flowers to, as she says, brighten up the dungeon I live in. It’s not a dungeon, just a cabin that doesn’t have the greatest lighting, but I like my den dark. I’ve never accepted her offer of flowers until today. I picked red ones, because…” He glanced up at her in her dress and, holy shit, all intelligible words disappeared from his brain.
All that came from him was a guttural growl as he dragged his gaze along Kimberly’s black hair, shining and falling to her shoulders in soft waves, her eyes so blue, surrounded by her dark lashes and all done up with makeup. Her lips were painted red to match the red sparkly dress that hugged every curve of her body. Her low neckline went right down to the middle of her torso, showing off her perfect inner cleavage. Her hips were hugged tight in the sequined fabric, and that high slit that traveled from heel to thigh showed off her toned legs.
He’d never seen any woman more beautiful than her.
When he lifted his attention back to her face, she looked startled and emotional.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
She bent forward and took the bouquet from his grasp. “I want them, and they aren’t ridiculous. I don’t remember the last time anyone got me flowers so, no, there is no rare mountain flowers to compare these to.” She smelled them, the brown paper around them making an attractive crinkling sound. “They’re perfect.” She cleared her throat. “Um, you look very handsome. I really like what you’re wearing.”
He actually had to force his gaze away from her to look down at himself because, truth-be-told, his brain had glitched and he couldn’t for the life of him remember what he was eve
n wearing. Oh, yeah, the gray slacks and a black shirt tucked into the waist. He’d left the top button undone because his neck was too muscular for most human cuts. “I’m glad you like it because it’s probably what I’ll wear to every Wilson party from here on out. That store was not my favorite.”
They stood there staring at each other for a few moments before she unfroze and said, “Oh my goodness, it’s snowing and freezing. Come in, please. I have to find a vase for these before we go. I don’t want them to dry out!” She bustled inside and set the flowers down, then yanked open the fridge. “I got you something too.” She handed him a ceramic plate with indentations for a dozen deviled eggs. They were each filled with one, and in the middle of the platter, there was painted a lion in a holiday hat. “I made you those. For a present. As a thank you for being so nice to me. The plate is for you too. I’m sorry if it’s silly—”
He took it from her hand and grinned. “This is the best present ever. I told you I like deviled eggs and you listened.” He ate one and rolled his eyes closed at how good they were. “Holy shit, you did good, girl.”
“Really?”
He eased his eyes open and nodded. “Really, really. And you got a plate with a lion on it.”
“Because I think you are great, lion and all.”
And that got him in the heart a little. Okay. She was telling him she didn’t mind his animal side. That was big.
“Now this present is even better,” he murmured.
Her cheeks were all pink and her eyes were full of relief, and she was so damn cute. “Oh! We are going to be so late.” Her hands were trembling as she began cutting the flower stems on the counter.
“Are you okay?” he asked. “You’re shaking.”
“Just stressed out a little. We’re running late, and I just turned on my phone to see if you had texted me today and my mom has messaged me four hundred times—”
“Let me see.”