by Anna Lowe
Kill Moira, his wolf snarled. Fulfill the prophecy. Give the boy the freedom he needs.
Cynthia glanced over as if she sensed the dark cloud that slid over his mind.
Forget that stupid prophecy, he told his wolf.
Just because an old woman had seen a vision when he was born didn’t mean it was the real thing. Him, ridding the world of some great evil? He’d be happy just to keep Cynthia and Joey safe.
Dell pointed around. “Look. Joey’s got his checkers, his orange juice — vitamin-enriched and everything. We’re doing great.”
Cal hid a snort. The lion shifter could be annoying but charming as hell, and he had a way of calming Cynthia down. Lord knew the woman needed that, she was so high-strung.
His wolf grumbled. Keeping her calm is our job.
Yeah, he liked to think so, but he hadn’t been able to do that for the past too-many years. He should be grateful somebody had stepped in to help in his place.
Temporarily, his wolf snarled, giving Dell the evil eye.
“Well, that’s great. Thank you both,” Cynthia said, sounding truly grateful. “But we have to get going now.”
“Oh, come on, Cynth,” Dell groaned.
Joey cried at exactly the same time, “So soon?”
Cal tugged on Cynthia’s hand. Joey was having a good time. Why rush him back home?
“Last half hour to catch brunch,” Dell hinted.
Cynthia looked up with a blank expression that said, Brunch? I don’t do brunch. Certainly not in a place like this.
Cal squeezed her hand a little tighter, and if Dell caught the motion, who cared? Cynthia was his woman.
“We have a special offer,” Candy announced in her shrill, look-at-me voice. Cal watched as the hostess waved toward the dart board hanging on one wall. “Hit the bull’s-eye, and brunch is on the house.”
Dell flashed an amused grin. “Yeah. From behind that line.”
Cal snorted. Regulation distance to a board ought to be seven or eight feet, depending on the darts you used. But the line Dell indicated — a faded pirate sword painted on the floor — was at least twenty feet from the board.
Joey bounced up and down in his seat. “Cal can do it.”
A glint crept into Dell’s eyes. “I’d love to see him try.”
Cal swung his jaw until it cracked, trying to resist the temptation. But Candy was already bounding to the board and back, bringing him a dart.
“Oh, I bet he could,” she cooed, fondling the tip of the dart.
“That won’t be necessary,” Cynthia snipped.
Cal knew she was about to call Joey and head for the door, but heck. This was one of those It’s good for you moments he used to treat Cynthia to in more innocent times. The woman needed to get out more. To mingle with the lower classes — like him. To loosen up, have fun, and let her kid do the same.
So he took the dart, checked that the flights weren’t warped, and lined up his shot.
“No pressure,” Dell announced as more and more people fell silent and looked on.
Cal allowed himself the slightest smile. A dozen tourists and fishermen? That wasn’t pressure. Pressure was a dragon coming at you with its mouth wide open, about to smother you with fire.
“You could balance an apple on your head and stand in front of the board,” Cal said, keeping his voice smooth.
Everyone laughed — as did Dell, to his credit. “Nah. I’ll stand over here on the side. Just in case.”
Cal fingered the dart, getting a feel for its weight and balance. It was light — much lighter than the objects he was used to hurling, but the principle was the same. Another four or five people turned to watch, and Bruce cackled.
“Good luck, mister. Your odds are about as good as me catching Moby Dick.”
Cynthia pursed her lips in one of those Is this really necessary? looks, and Cal hid a smile. This could turn out to be more fun than he’d thought.
Someone chimed in with a snarky comment about the one that got away, and a guy at the bar started taking bets. Cal kept his eyes on the dart board, letting everything around it fade away. Dell’s shit-eating grin. Joey’s all-too-hopeful gaze. Candy’s ever-fluttering eyelids. He even let Cynthia fade out for a moment, zeroing in on the board instead.
A deep, grizzled voice boomed in his head. A memory that said, You’re mine.
His lips curled upward. Those were the last words of a dragon who’d made the fatal error of underestimating him.
No, you’re mine, Cal nearly whispered, letting his mind turn the bull’s-eye into an enemy. Like that dragon — one of several Cal had hunted down and killed in retribution for attacking Barnaby’s place.
And, zip! With a flick of his wrist, he released the dart, hurtling it directly at the—
“Bull’s-eye!” everyone cheered.
Cal blinked and looked around, reminding himself he was in a quirky Maui bar, not on a battlefield. And whoa — Candy was coming at him with what looked like a kiss for the lucky winner.
“Ahem,” Cynthia fake-coughed, stepping between them just in time.
“I knew you could do it,” Joey cheered.
Cal shot him a grin.
“I knew it too,” Candy echoed, sidestepping Cynthia.
Cynthia countered by sticking her elbows out, and luckily, a customer called Candy away for a drink. Cal exhaled. Maybe fate didn’t have it in for him as badly as it sometimes seemed.
Dell brought his hands together quietly and mouthed a silent Bravo, then tipped his head toward a table. “Congratulations. You’re the first winner of the Lucky Devil’s Dart Challenge. Brunch is on the house.”
“But we were just…” Cynthia started, then slowly trailed off.
It was funny, how an idea could grow on a man. Cal hadn’t cared much about brunch a minute before, but when he pictured himself and Cynthia sitting across from each other, gazing into each other’s eyes…
“Sounds good to me,” he murmured, wondering what she would say.
“Come on, Cynth.” Cal was surprised to hear Dell call. “One of our best tables just opened up. You can enjoy the view.” Dell narrowed his eyes on Cal, giving him a look that said, Yes, she needs this. And as for you — you make sure you behave, you got me?
Cynthia stared at the seaside table. She didn’t sit down for long meals, let alone take in views. She was the high-powered, I have another thirty items to check off my list today kind of gal.
She sure looked tempted, though.
“Brunch,” Cal said. Slowly, carefully. Letting her form her own picture of how nice it could be. “Okay with you?”
She bit her lip, studying him. Then, with the slightest bob of her head, she nodded. “I suppose we could eat. Quickly, of course.”
“Of course.”
He grinned and started pulling her along before she changed her mind. Candy jumped in front of him, letting the strap of her body-hugging tank top slip down one shoulder as she showed them to the table. When they sat down, Candy slapped a menu in front of Cynthia. For Cal, she leaned way over and opened another menu to the centerfold, positioning it just so. The crease in the middle had a way of drawing the eye straight to her cleavage, but Cal kept his eyes firmly on Cynthia.
“Give us a minute,” he muttered, trying to keep the bark out of his voice.
When Candy sulked off, Cal pretended to study the menu. He didn’t actually care what he was having. Just sitting there with Cynthia was special enough. Out in public and everything, with no fear of someone coming along and saying, Aren’t you the Baird girl? How dare you be seen with this scum?
The memory must have shown, because Cynthia squeezed his hand, making him look up.
“Look at us,” she whispered.
He sighed. “Yeah. Look at us.”
For a long minute, they gazed into each other’s eyes, letting the past mix with the present, washing in and out like the waves on the shore below. Ebbing in and out in a calm, steady rhythm.
So many years had
gone by. So much time had been lost. But somehow, they’d found their way back to each other. His heart rate settled, and his mind did too. The mess of his life wouldn’t be resolved in one afternoon. But he could make a new memory – a good one – now.
So, they ordered — a Big Kahuna for him, whatever that was, and a Sunshine Special for Cynthia. He laughed when the meals were served. His was a huge platter covered with bacon, hash browns, the brightest orange cantaloupe he’d ever seen, and something that looked like fried fish wrapped in leaves. Cynthia, meanwhile, got a yogurt, fresh fruit, and a smoothie. She raised her glass for a toast, then hesitated.
“To…”
Cal held up his water and waited.
“To brunch,” Cynthia finished a little lamely, though her eyes hinted at something else. Something she didn’t dare utter, and neither did he.
He clinked his glass against hers and echoed, “To brunch.”
For wolf shifters, meals were more of a destination, not a journey. A means of chasing away hunger rather than a process in themselves. But for once in his life, Cal slowed down and let every flavor dissipate over his tongue. The dark, smoky flavor of the bacon. The crisp contrast of fresh cantaloupe. The surprisingly succulent fish that just about melted on his tongue once he’d picked the meat out of the banana leaf it had been steamed in. He had to hand it to Maui — or to the Lucky Devil. It was the best damn meal he’d had in a long time.
Cynthia ate in small, dainty bites, torturing him with the way her lips closed over her fork, then slowly slid off. Every few minutes, her eyes strayed to Joey. Whenever Cal glanced that way, he caught Dell checking on him and Cynthia in the same way. Appraising. Judging. Sending a clear message that the person he cared for was not to be misused.
But Joey was having a good time, and Cynthia was too. Slowly, she relaxed, and so did Cal. Even Candy cantering over with unnecessary water refills didn’t faze them. When the meal was cleared away, they remained sitting, looking at each other or the view. Cal nearly reached for Cynthia’s hand, but he settled for resting a leg against hers.
You know, we were good together, he wanted to say.
Cynthia pursed her lips, and he heard her answer in his mind.
Yes, we were. Her eyes took on a soft shifter glow.
He hated the past tense, but okay. He would take what he could get.
The sun glinted off her pearls, and Cal smiled without knowing exactly why. He hadn’t forgotten how beautiful Cynthia was, but he had forgotten what it was like to kick back and have a nice time.
Feels good, his wolf sighed.
A boisterous party of four emerged at the top of the stairs, making Cynthia look over. Then she jerked her hand up, checked her watch, and jolted. “Oh, look at the time. We should go.”
Already? he nearly protested.
But she was right. Joey had played enough rounds of checkers, and they probably ought to vacate their table to someone likely to tip more generously than he was inclined to do, given the peep show Candy had kept up despite hints he wasn’t the least bit interested.
Still, he found it in his heart to round the drinks tip up from fifteen percent — after he finished arguing with Cynthia over who would pay, that was. When they stood to leave, Cynthia paused, looking out at the view, and he swore her chest rose and fell in a deep sigh.
He didn’t want to leave either. He never wanted that quiet, uncomplicated time to end.
“Hey, Mandy,” a young guy called to his woman.
Honeymooners, judging by the dopey look on the man’s face and the Isn’t he amazing expression on the woman’s face.
The groom pointed to the old-fashioned jukebox with a grin. “They have our song.”
Cal decided it really was time to go, because they looked like the Cyndi Lauper type, and he wasn’t ready for that peppy a song. But the creak of the jukebox’s mechanical arm was followed by the scratch of the needle over the LP, and when the first notes of a jazzy trumpet played…
Cynthia stopped in her tracks, and Cal did too.
“Dream a little dream of me.” The groom beamed at his bride as the timeless voice of Ella Fitzgerald filled the room.
Cal didn’t budge through the first few lines of the song. It was daylight, so the stars weren’t shining above him, and there was no bird in a sycamore tree. But damn. The breeze really did seem to whisper, I love you.
I love you, he echoed, gazing into Cynthia’s eyes.
“Dream a Little Dream of Me” was their song. Or it would be if he had to name just one. They’d slow-danced to it on their second night together. Cynthia had snuck him over to her father’s boathouse in the Adirondacks, a rustic little place right on a lake. The band at the fancy club on the opposite shore had played a lot of classics, and music drifted over the water in a magical way. Cal and Cynthia had taken a break from making love long enough to dance a few times. Him and her, holding each other close, their footsteps creaking softly on the wooden slats of the boathouse balcony. Autumn leaves fluttered in the woods, and moonlight rippled over the calm waters of the lake.
Cynthia turned to him with wide, vulnerable eyes, and he gulped. Yeah, she remembered too.
They’d danced to that song dozens of times, and the only part that didn’t ring true was the word little. Little didn’t begin to describe his dreams over the past twelve years.
Hold her tight? Tell her he missed her? Hell, where would he begin?
Another few lines went by without either of them making a move, but by the time Louis Armstrong kicked in with his low, gravelly, craving lines, Cal found his feet moving. His arms too, pulling Cynthia close. Behind her, the honeymooners started dancing as well, and the other customers turned to watch. Not that Cal cared. His whole world narrowed to the tune in his ears and the woman in his arms.
Just like old times. His wolf grinned.
It was, right down to the smallest details. Like her hand on his shoulder and the silky brush of her hair over his shoulder as their bodies began to sway. He leaned in, closed his eyes, and inhaled her scent.
Dancing was a funny thing, really. You only took a few steps, but it was like traveling to a different world. A place where only the present existed, along with a sense of calm. A lot like the calm he’d always felt holding Cynthia after they made love. Feeling spent and tired of taking on the world, but relieved at the same time because he didn’t have to be a warrior for a while. He could just hold his true love and enjoy.
Dancing had a way of dividing his senses too, keeping part of him aware of the whirling overhead fans, the clatter of silverware, and the sensation of eyes on their backs as people looked on. But that was all detached and distant, and he stayed in his private world as long as he could, relishing every step, every touch, every glance they exchanged.
Far too soon, the song reached its final chords, and before he knew it, the jukebox needle was scratching over silence again. But Cynthia was looking up at him with an expression he couldn’t decipher, and her heart beat steadily against his. A smattering of applause made her blush, but she kept her eyes on his.
Just like old times, Cal couldn’t help thinking.
Just like old times, Cynthia’s eyes agreed.
Chapter Ten
Cynthia sat on the rocking chair on her private wing of the porch, gripping the armrests, trying not to let her hands shake. She closed her eyes, telling herself to clear her mind. It would be dinnertime soon, and there was no way she could appear in such a state.
Still, her fingers tingled, and her blood raced. Cal’s heady scent still filled her nose, and her cheeks warmed.
Our mate is back, her dragon sighed. He really is back, and he really does love us.
It had been a silent drive home from Lahaina — well, silent between her and Cal, though she could feel sparks fly the entire time. Joey, on the other hand, kept up an excited conversation for the short ride home in the borrowed pickup. It was amazing how her baby had gone from little boy to…well, big boy — one more curious than
ever about the world.
“Bruce said his boat has two engines. Two! And Dell said he catches fish bigger than me! There was a storm once, and Bruce said…”
Her mind had wandered while Joey enthused about everything he’d done, seen, and heard. Cal was back, and he loved her. He hadn’t betrayed their promise as she’d been led to believe. And now that she was a widow…
She cleared her throat and rocked faster.
When Cal dropped off her and Joey at home, he’d left the engine running, ready to turn around and head back to town for his Triumph. Cynthia had stepped out of the pickup, intending to utter a quick thanks and walk briskly to the house, because she’d already let down her guard too far. But the moment her eyes met Cal’s, her feet refused to move. His deep, smoky eyes sparkled as he took her in.
“Thank you,” she’d whispered, hanging on to the door like a woman at the edge of a cliff.
“Thank you!” Joey chirped, making Cal flash one of his rare smiles. Then he went all serious again, with eyes for no one but her.
“Sure thing.”
His lips hadn’t closed all the way when he finished, and she’d been hit by the urge to clamber across the front seat and kiss him.
Motorcycles are much more convenient, her dragon grumbled.
It had taken everything she had to shut the door and let Cal drive away. Even when he did, she’d stood watching the driveway a long time after the pickup disappeared.
She gave the rocking chair a push and looked out over the sea, trying to distract herself. But instead of the rainbow of blues in the tropical water, all she saw was the worn leather of Cal’s jacket. Instead of watching palm trees sway along the edge of the beach, she pictured the thick strands of Cal’s hair, curling around his ears.
What’s really keeping us apart? her dragon whispered.
Cynthia closed her eyes. Pride. Nothing but damn pride — hers as well as his — not to mention that gaping chasm filled with all the pain of the past. A whole river of regret she was afraid to wade into, lest she get swept away. That, and a mountain of guilt. She hadn’t chosen to be mated to Barnaby, but she had agreed in the end, and he’d sacrificed his life for her. Didn’t she owe it to him to remain true?