by Anna Lowe
Close, it seemed, because his face didn’t change, and his voice remained perfectly even.
“I’m here to protect you.”
She frowned. “From what?”
He shrugged. “Not sure yet. Nothing good, I know that much.”
His words weren’t the least bit comforting, but the warmth of his leg against hers was. He was still leaning against the banister, which meant she must have encroached on his space. She cast her wineglass a suspicious glance, then shrugged. Back in the day, the two of them had gotten a lot closer than that, right?
Her dragon heaved a dreamy sigh as memories flashed through her mind. Much closer.
She could practically see her hands clutch at his bare back and sense the heat of their bodies rise. She could feel the snug fit of her legs around his waist, and best of all, the hard, hot slide of him inside.
Cal downed a mouthful of wine with an audible gulp, setting off another memory. One of his motorcycle swerving and him muttering, Jesus, lady. Don’t do that to me.
Cynthia coughed, doing her best to push the sensual images away. “I have all the protection I need.”
Cal pursed his lips. “Do you?”
She snorted. “You’ve met Silas, Connor, and the others…”
Cal nodded curtly. “I have, and they’re good. Very good.”
“But?”
He didn’t say a word, so she answered for him. “But no one is as good as you. Is that what you’re saying?”
For a split second, his eyes danced, and she could imagine his young, cocky self drawling something like, You’re the one saying it, sweetheart.
Her blood raced, and she caught herself wishing he would say exactly that. Wishing they could turn back the clock and be the carefree lovers they’d once been.
But Cal’s face grew inscrutable again. “I’m just saying, the more, the better. For Joey’s sake.”
Her brow furrowed. “You’re just saying that because you know I’m a sucker for Joey.”
“He is your son.”
The thought made her tense all over and blurt, “Do you have kids?”
He laughed, though there wasn’t a note of humor in the sound. “No.”
She felt guilty for feeling relieved — and guilty to realize how Cal must feel that she had a son with someone else. If he loved her as much as she loved him, that had to cut deep.
He loves us. Believe me, he does, her dragon swore.
The grim resolution in Cal’s eyes confirmed it, making her feel worse. Without thinking, she cupped Cal’s cheek.
“I’m sorry. So sorry.” Her throat was so dry, her voice cracked when she spoke.
“For what?”
“For everything.”
When he gazed into her eyes, her breath went all shaky, because it was happening again. That warm, fuzzy feeling that possessed her whenever they got close.
Mate, her dragon murmured.
Cal’s eyes glowed, and she swore his wolf side was whispering the same thing. Mate.
She found herself stroking his rough, stubbly chin like she used to. Leaning closer. Studying the line where the pink of his lips met the weathered bronze of his cheeks.
Cal put his glass behind her and looped an arm over her shoulder. His hand rested gently on her neck as if to guide her closer for a kiss.
“Ask me again,” he said in a hoarse whisper.
She barely breathed. “Ask what?”
He shifted slightly, bringing his knee between hers as they sat facing each other on the top step.
“Ask what I’ve been up to.”
Cynthia braced her free hand on the porch, because she was getting all shaky, and that wouldn’t do. When she spoke, her words were hushed, almost afraid.
“What have you been up to?”
Cal’s eyes glowed the way they did when he was at his most intense. “Missing you. Dreaming of you. Wishing I could go back in time and live it all over again.”
She could have hunched over and cried the way she had so many times over the past years. Having two glasses of wine in her system would have helped the tears flow, but she fought the feeling away.
“Ask me what I’ve been doing all these past years,” she whispered.
Cal flashed that sad little half smile. “What have you been doing?”
“Missing you. Dreaming of you. No — dreaming of us. Wishing I could go back in time and live it all over again.”
The words tumbled out in a rush, and she found herself frozen in place. Whoa. Had she just said that?
She had, and she meant it. Which she proved by sliding closer and whispering, “Cal…”
If a smile were a cocktail, his would have been two-parts sorrow and one-part regret, poured over enough ice to dull the pain.
“Cynthia…”
His human side formed the word, but she could sense his wolf howling beneath.
She closed her eyes and leaned closer, letting instinct guide her lips. Just when she feared she’d misjudged Cal, their lips met. His were soft in the middle and dry on the edges, like they’d always been. A little chapped from all that time on the bike. He smelled of leather, sandalwood, and just enough wolf to make her heart skip.
More, her dragon begged. Please, more.
His lips played over hers, soft and dreamy.
More, she nearly moaned, opening her mouth under his.
And zoom! It was like all those times riding Cal’s Triumph, when he’d kicked the engine into a higher gear and rocketed around the curve of a country road. Her ears roared, and if she hadn’t been hanging on to him, she might have toppled off the porch the way she’d nearly fallen off the back of his bike a few times. She made little whimpering noises as she tasted him for the first time in over a decade, wondering if it was all just a dream. But Cal had never held her that tightly in any dream, and he’d never kissed her with so much need.
“Cal,” she groaned, smoothing her hands over his chest and shoulders, reminding herself just how good she’d had it, once upon a time.
We can have it that good again, her dragon insisted.
Could she? She was painfully aware of the alcohol pumping through her veins, not to mention the wave of emotion that had brought this all on. Still, she held Cal, kissing him hard enough to fight those thoughts away. His knee wandered closer, making hers part to let him in. She found herself groping up the inside of his shirt while shaking her head at herself. But it was hard to care with all that pent-up shifter passion blazing inside, and she started guiding Cal’s hand to her heart.
A bat skimmed over the rooftop, casting a shadow over the two of them, and Cal looked up. His chest rose and fell, and his eyes glowed.
“Cynthia…”
He pulled away, and the out-of-control bike they’d been riding coasted to a halt. Cynthia wanted to lean over and give the throttle one last desperate twist.
Wait, she wanted to cry. Please, let me escape reality for a little longer.
Cal covered her hands with his, then gently guided them from his cheeks to her thighs, anchoring them there.
“Maybe you should check on Joey,” he murmured, looking up as if he’d heard something.
That was the jacaranda tree scratching the porch roof, and Cal knew it. Still, Cynthia forced herself to nod and pull herself together. She was alpha of this pack, dammit, and that meant she had to be self-disciplined at all times. She had no business kissing Cal, especially in her current frame of mind. It was totally irresponsible. Irrational. Childish, even.
But it feels so good, her dragon cried.
It did feel good, but she wasn’t the young, single woman she used to be. She was a mother and a leader now, and she’d better remember that.
Cal stood slowly, joints creaking as if his wolf was resisting. He pulled her to her feet then reluctantly released her. A moment later, his hands reached for her again, but then he stuck them deep into his pockets and kept them there.
“I’d better go.”
“Me too,” she admitted, though it took eve
rything she had.
He backed down the porch steps and paused where the shadows hid his expression.
“Good night, Cynthia.”
His voice was a low rumble — a sound she would replay in her dreams, if she ever got to sleep.
She plucked the wineglasses and bottle off the porch and straightened, trying to remember what her mother had taught her about pride and manners. An impossible task, given the animal passion raging inside her.
Finally, she forced out two of the most painful words she’d ever uttered. “Good night.”
Slowly, Cal turned to go, and she watched, certain she’d spend most of the night touching herself. But Joey mumbled anxiously in his sleep, and she ended up snuggled up beside him.
“Dragons… Bad dragons…” Joey whimpered.
Cynthia held him closer and eyed the sky outside the window. Were his dreams echoes of the past or visions of the future? A gull’s shadow glided over the window, and Cal’s words echoed in her mind.
I’m here to protect you.
From what?
Not sure yet. Nothing good, I know that much.
She lay stiffly for most of the night, sure she’d never get to sleep. But she must have, because she found herself awakening with the rising sun. After a few minutes, she padded quietly to the balcony, getting there just in time to see Cal cruising out the driveway on his Triumph.
Where was he going? What was he up to?
When he disappeared over the rise, her eyes wandered over the inland slopes, and her ears strained for the smooth sound of the Thruxton long after it faded into the distance. She hugged herself, pretending her arms were his while she whispered into the wind.
“Thank you, my mate.”
Chapter Eight
Cal gripped the handlebars as the Triumph rattled up the scrubby track. Hours had passed, and the sun was high overhead, making sweat run down his brow. His ears rang with the sound of creaking shocks and scattering gravel. In part, that was due to the rough surface and steep slope. He’d been out all morning, caching gear in strategic locations above the plantation.
But the rough ride was just one reason for the tension in his body. The other was the way Cynthia’s kiss still burned on his lips.
Burns in a good way, his wolf hummed.
Which, he supposed, was true. For the first time in the past twelve years, he remembered what it felt like to be alive. To look to the future with hope rather than despair. But that kiss had also dredged up a lot of pain and fear. Hope was scary as hell. So were dreams, because of the pain that ensued when they crashed and burned.
The bike kicked up enough dust that he had to keep his lips sealed, which was a good thing. It kept him from smacking them together and replaying every microsecond of that kiss.
So, he hadn’t accomplished much that morning in terms of processing that kiss. But he had made good progress setting up his gear. One defensive position was ready to go, and two more were on their way. He eyed the sky, wondering how much time he had left before Cynthia’s enemies barreled in, darkening Maui’s clear blue skies.
I vote for never, his wolf muttered.
Never would be nice, but he doubted Cynthia would get that lucky. Her enemies were closing in, all right, whether he judged by gut instinct or the reports coming in from Silas’s informants. Their arrival wasn’t so much a question of if but when.
He looked over the slopes one more time. He’d already made two trips between the plantation and the hills, and he was itching to make a third. But that much activity in one area was sure to draw attention, so he would have to wait a day or two.
His wolf sighed. Knowing our luck, it will be sooner.
Cal slowed down at an intersection, dismounted, and kicked some dirt over the tire tracks he’d left. Then he slid back onto his bike and made for the main road. Minutes later, he was cruising over asphalt with the wind whipping his hair and memories racing through his mind. It was all too easy to imagine Cynthia hanging on to him as he slalomed the bike along that idyllic coastal road, and his body warmed. But when he made the turn for the plantation’s unobtrusive driveway, his back grew stiff and his palms sweaty at the prospect of seeing her again.
Tim let him through the gate, raising his thick eyebrows in a way that said, What the hell have you been up to, you rogue?
Cal coasted by without a word, thankful that Silas had given him free rein to move around as he pleased. Otherwise, he’d have a hell of a lot of explaining to do.
At the crest of the hill, he paused to gaze over the plantation. Most of it was tangled in overgrowth and dotted with relics of the past — a rusting tractor here, a collapsed shed there. Apparently, the place had been abandoned for years. The patches of land Cynthia and the others had wrestled back into use really stood out. One was the perfectly square plot of land lined with neat rows of coffee bushes that Hailey tended. Another was the tidy grass oval around the main house, complete with flowerpots and climbing tiers of bougainvillea. Then there was the winding track down to the tiny handkerchief of private beach, and beyond that—
He held his breath for a moment. Beyond was the best part — the ocean. Miles and miles of it, stretching all the way to infinity. As a wolf shifter, he usually felt most at home in the forest. But the ocean was pretty amazing too. The tangy salt air, the sense of space…
I could get used to it here, his wolf whispered.
But then his eyes slid to the figure pacing on the porch of the plantation house, and he pursed his lips. Could he, though? Much as the idea appealed, a single kiss couldn’t undo a decade of damage.
Reluctantly, he shoved off and cruised down to the barn, feeling Cynthia’s eyes on him the whole time. Once he parked the bike, he ran his fingers through his hair, trying to get himself together. Which was hard with his wolf side replaying that kiss over and over in his mind.
He stepped out into the sunshine, determined to play it cool. But the second he spotted Cynthia, he stopped. Why was she pacing? What was wrong?
Instead of swaggering over, pretending he didn’t have a care in the world, he ended up rushing over then screeching to a halt at the foot of the stairs. Cynthia gave him a weak smile while she murmured into her phone.
“How long?” She bit a perfectly manicured nail. “You can’t come any sooner?”
Cal’s eyes narrowed. Who was coming? Why?
“What about Chase?” she asked. A long silence ensued while she waited for a reply. “Isn’t there someone else who can cover for you?”
Cal wondered who was on the other end of the line. Tim came up to wait silently beside him, looking concerned. Finally, Cynthia clicked the phone off and looked down.
“What is it?” Cal asked.
She covered her eyes with one hand, rubbing hard. “Nothing, really.”
Cal could have snorted. Nothing, really was Cynthia code for a huge problem — one she couldn’t ask for help with because of her own damn pride.
He stirred the air with his hands, wishing he could say, Ask. It doesn’t hurt to ask.
But that was Cynthia — always trying to solve problems alone. The very first time he’d met her, she’d been on the side of the road with a broken-down car, insisting everything was fine when it was far from.
She motioned toward the south. “Dell took Joey to town this morning, but the Lucky Devil needs someone to cover the lunch shift, so Dell can’t bring Joey home.”
Cal waited. That was the big problem?
“Can’t Anjali bring Joey home?” Tim asked.
Cynthia shook her head. “Anjali took the car to Kahului, and she won’t be back for a while.”
“What about Chase or Sophie?”
Cynthia started pacing again. “They’re working too, and the other car is over in Hunter’s workshop.”
Cal looked from Cynthia to Tim and back. “Can’t Joey wait a while?”
Cynthia spun on her heel, and holy hell, did she look outraged. “I will not allow my son to hang around a bar.”
Tim shot Cal a look that said, Never get between a mama bear and her cub…especially if she’s a dragon.
“I thought the Lucky Devil was a restaurant,” Cal said, very carefully.
Cynthia made a face. “A restaurant with a bar. And regulars.” Her voice dripped with disdain.
Cal couldn’t help laughing out loud. “You sound like your mother.”
Tim stared at him with a look that said, You know her mother?
Cal rolled his eyes. He’d met most of that whole fucking family, and they were a bigger mess than his.
Cynthia thrust her hands onto her hips. “I do not.”
“You do too.”
Cynthia slumped. “God, you’re right. I do.”
The urge to reach out and hug her came over Cal. To tell her that she wasn’t perfect, but he loved her anyway.
Love you, his wolf crooned.
Cal ordered the beast to shut up, but it was too late. Cynthia looked up, staring at him.
You love me? her voice whispered in his mind.
Of course I love you. He sighed and sent the words into her mind. Then he stirred the air with his hands.
“Anyway…Joey?”
Cynthia jolted, turned pink, and started pacing again. “I just don’t want him hanging around with…with…”
Cal waited, watching the pink flush of her cheeks turn into an all-out crimson. Cynthia wasn’t a snob at heart, but her upbringing came through sometimes. It was kind of fun to see her struggle with those two sides of herself, though.
“…with bad influences, all right?” She crossed her arms, but it was more of a me-hug than a gesture of defiance.
Cal would have loved to tease her with something like, Bad influences — like me? But she was so stressed out, he caved in.
“No problem. I’ll take you.”
Relief washed over her face. Then she blanched. “Wait. You mean, ride the bike? With you?”
Cal took a deep breath, picturing what that meant. Did he really dare get that close to her again?
Absolutely. His wolf wagged its tail. Just like old times.
Cal snorted. This was nothing like old times, not with all the baggage he and Cynthia had accumulated in the intervening years.
“Sure. Why not?” he said, working hard to keep the wobble out of his voice.