The Dragon Finds Forever (Nocturne Falls Book 7)

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The Dragon Finds Forever (Nocturne Falls Book 7) Page 11

by Kristen Painter


  If he noticed, he didn’t say anything. Could be he was used to it. She wasn’t. It was hard to see the looks on people’s faces and not tell them to stop judging Van. Because it seemed like that was what they were doing.

  She didn’t like it. Just because she was going to end up hurting him didn’t mean she wanted anyone else to do it.

  The face of one approaching woman was frozen in a fearful grimace, her gaze stuck on Van.

  Monalisa did the only thing she could think of. She linked her arm through his and smiled at him. The woman’s expression changed to shock, and Monalisa felt a little vindication. “This is a great town.” Some of the tourists weren’t so fabulous, but the place itself was pretty cool. He’d explained before they left the house a little more about how supernaturals could live here without issue, being themselves all the time thanks to the enchanted water and the year-round celebration of Halloween.

  “It is. Building my house here was an easy decision.”

  “Where’s the pet shop?”

  “Farther down. We will do that last. After lunch.”

  “Okay. Where do you want to go now?”

  “Wherever you like.” He smiled back. “I don’t come to town much, so this is new for me too. But I do like to shop. Once in a while.” He laughed. “What good is having money if you can’t spend it, right?”

  “Right.” She couldn’t really relate to that. Her parents kept her on a pretty tight budget, all part of controlling her. It worked too.

  “Let’s go in here.” He grabbed the shop’s door and opened it, waiting for her to go through.

  She glanced up. Hats In The Belfry. She’d seen this shop on the drive to Pandora’s. “Okay, cool.”

  It was toasty inside, so she loosened her short jacket. There were rows and rows of foam ovals attached to the wall, each one sporting a different hat. One wall was men’s, one was women’s, another kids’, and in the center of the store, three spinning racks were devoted to silly hats of all descriptions.

  “What do you think?”

  She turned around to see Van in a gangster-style fedora. She laughed. “Now you really look like a tough guy.”

  He took the hat off. “Which one, then?”

  “You really want a hat?”

  He nodded. “One that makes me look…less like me.”

  She squinted at him. “I think I know what you’re saying, but I don’t like it. There’s nothing wrong with the way you look.” There was a lot right with it, in fact.

  His jaw tightened. “I see the way people look at me. They are afraid. I do not like that.”

  “Those people are idiots.”

  He snorted. “I’m sure they would disagree with you.”

  “They’re judging you based on what you look like. That makes them shallow and superficial.”

  He stared at her, a knowing glimmer in his eyes. “Did you not judge me when you saw me?”

  She had. She’d judged him just like she judged all fighters. “Yes, but I got over that pretty quickly. And I’m sorry about that. I was an idiot too.”

  “You were never an idiot.”

  “I’ll decide that. Now let’s find you a hat.” She scanned the rows behind him, finally settling on a newsboy style in herringbone tweed. “Try this.”

  He put it on. “Well?”

  She adjusted it, giving it a little slant. She stepped back and smiled. “I like it. And it goes with your sweater.” Truth was, he looked more Irish than Russian right now, but there was something very charming about the hat on him.

  He looked at himself in the mirror. “I like it.” He turned back to her. “Now you.”

  “A hat for me?”

  “Da. My treat.”

  “No, I can’t let you—”

  “Lisa.” He grabbed her hand. “You got me out of my funk. You got me to see that I cannot turn my back on fighting. Not yet. I am grateful. Please, let me say thank you.”

  He wouldn’t be saying thank you when he found out the truth. She made herself smile. “I’m not sure I look good in hats.”

  He winked. “Let me be the judge of that.”

  He picked out a deep green wool felt hat with a slightly floppy brim and a black ribbon band. She put it on, angling it to one side, then faced him. “Is it me?”

  “Definitely. See for yourself.”

  She looked in the mirror. He was right. It was her, much more than she would have guessed. She felt a little mysterious in the hat. Like a secret agent. “Wow, it’s pretty cute.”

  “You are pretty cute. The hat is just lucky to be on your head.”

  She laughed, flattered and unsure of what to say to such kind words, besides, “Thank you.”

  He paid for the hats, and they headed back onto the street wearing them. They stopped at a few more stores, looking and laughing and having a great time.

  Monalisa’s stomach rumbled as they left the last shop.

  Van took her hand. “I know that sound. Time to eat.”

  She flattened her hand against her stomach. “I guess I am getting hungry.”

  “Good. I am starving. And I know just the place.” He tipped his head toward something farther up the street.

  She followed his gaze. “A biker bar?”

  Van shook his head at Lisa’s comment. Howler’s was a lot like him. It looked like one thing on the outside, but on the inside, it was so much more. “It’s not just a biker bar. You will see.”

  He guided Lisa to the door, opening it for her. As soon as they were inside, he spotted Bridget Merrow behind the bar and gave her a wave.

  Bridget came over. “Van, how are you? I knew you were back in town, but I figured you were holed up recovering. Bum deal, man.”

  He nodded, but didn’t want to dwell on that. He slipped his hat off. “Bridget, this is my friend Lisa. Lisa, this is Bridget Merrow. She owns Howler’s.”

  Lisa and Bridget shook hands. Bridget was all smiles. “Nice to meet you, Lisa.”

  “You too, Bridget.”

  He could tell what Bridget was thinking, that Lisa was the first woman outside of Pandora that he’d ever come in with so they must be more than friends. Bridget gave him a look that confirmed that. “Van, where have you been hiding her?”

  “I am not hiding anyone. We were at Pandora’s housewarming last night.”

  “Ugh,” Bridget said. “I couldn’t make it. Had to work. But I heard Cole finally put a ring on it.”

  “He did,” Van confirmed. “It was very nice.”

  “It was,” Lisa said. “And Pandora was nice enough to invite me.”

  Bridget nodded. “She’s cool like that. So what brings you to town, Lisa?”

  “I’m here to help with Van’s rehab. I work for the Titan Fight League. That’s the organization Van fights for.”

  “Oh, we know all about TFL in here. We’re all fans of Van’s in town.”

  “You wouldn’t know that by the way people look at him.”

  Bridget shifted her gaze toward the street. “Tourists, honey. The rest of us, the locals in the know, we like Van very much.” She gave him a big grin.

  “Thank you, Bridget.” Van smiled. This was a good place to live.

  Bridget peered past them. “Is it snowing out there yet? Weatherman keeps saying it’s imminent.”

  “Not yet,” Lisa answered. “But it is chilly.” She took her hat off and fluffed her hair.

  “Well, let’s get you warmed up with some lunch.” Bridget grabbed two menus. “You guys want a table or a booth?”

  “Something private.” Van wanted to be able to talk to Lisa.

  “I’ve got just the spot.” Bridget led them to the back corner. “Here you go. Specials are chicken pot pie, beef stew, and apple cobbler. I’ll send your waitress right over.”

  “Thank you,” Lisa said. “And nice to meet you.”

  “You too.” Bridget narrowed her eyes a little, and for a moment, the gold gleam of her inner werewolf peeked out. “You take care of our guy, now.”
>
  Lisa straightened. “I will.”

  Van laughed as Bridget headed back to the bar. “She did not mean anything by that.”

  Lisa’s gaze stayed on Bridget. “I’m not so sure. Wolf shifter, right?”

  “Yes. Very good.”

  “It’s the eyes. Gives it away.” She looked around. “So does the name Howler’s, frankly.”

  “I suppose it does.”

  She made eye contact with him again briefly before opening her menu. “It was nice to hear her say that everyone in town likes you. That was sweet. She obviously likes you very much too. Were you two ever a thing?”

  Her question surprised him. Was she a little jealous or just curious? Either way, her interest intrigued him. “Just friends. She is dating one of the local firemen. Very serious. Another werewolf.”

  “Good for her.” She went quiet as her attention shifted to the items on offer.

  “There is someone for everyone, don’t you think?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about it that much.” She looked up. “What are you getting?”

  But he wasn’t ready to change the subject. “Don’t you want to get married? Have a family?”

  She didn’t say anything, glancing down at her menu again, then finally lifting her head. And then, as if it was an afterthought, she smiled. “Sure. Who doesn’t?”

  Her answer would have been more convincing if not for the sadness in her eyes. He couldn’t understand it, and she didn’t seem eager to talk about it. That had never stopped him before. “That is not very convincing.”

  She put her menu down. “I do want those things, but there’s a lot of other stuff in my life I need to work out first. I don’t know how else to explain it.” She started to pick up her menu again, then hesitated. “And my parents haven’t set such a great example either.”

  Based on what she’d already told him about them, that wasn’t surprising. “They are divorced?”

  “No, they’re together. But most of the time their relationship seems more like it’s based on a business deal than a love match.” She shook her head. “I’m not sure why I’m telling you all this.”

  “It’s okay. Talking is good. We get to know each other.”

  She smiled a little. “How about your parents? Are they together?”

  His turn to stare at the menu. “Passed on. I miss them.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  He nodded, suddenly unsure himself of how much to share. “My father died getting us safely out of Russia. My mother died of a broken heart. She missed him so much.”

  “Sounds like they were very much in love.”

  “They were. Very good parents. My brother and I were very lucky.”

  “You have a brother? I’m an only child. Does he live here too?”

  “Boris lives in Japan. Has for many years. He is married and has a child. He teaches mixed martial arts.”

  “Is he a fighter too?”

  “For a little while, but he liked teaching better. He retired from the ring when he met Shiori.”

  “Have you been to visit him?”

  “Many times. Travel with the League was always one of the perks.”

  An older woman in a Howler’s polo shirt approached the table. The name badge under the logo said Phyllis. “Afternoon, folks. I’m Phyl, and I’ll be taking care of you today. What can I get you to drink?”

  “Just water for me,” Lisa said.

  “Same here,” Van answered.

  “All right. Do you know what you want to eat yet?”

  He glanced at Lisa. “You need more time?”

  “No, I’m good. You?”

  “Also good. Go ahead.”

  Lisa looked up at Phyllis. “Chicken pot pie special, please.”

  Phyllis scratched a note on her tablet, then asked Van, “And for you?”

  “Steak sandwich.” He handed her his menu. “Rare.”

  She took it and Lisa’s, then tucked them under her arm. “I’ll get that right in.”

  As she left, Bridget returned with a shallow dish resting on a flat plate. “Here you go, fresh from the kitchen so the plate is super hot.” She laughed. “Not that that will bother you, Van.”

  “Those look yummy. What’s under all that cheese? Stuffed mushrooms?”

  Bridget nodded. “They’re new on the menu so you guys get to be guinea pigs. They’re Philly cheesesteak-stuffed ’shrooms. Eat up, I want a report.”

  She left as quickly as she’d arrived.

  Lisa’s brows lifted. “That was nice.”

  “Bridget takes good care of the locals.”

  “This town just gets better.” She stuck her fork into one of the mushrooms and lifted it onto her side plate. Steam wafted off it. “She wasn’t kidding about them being hot.”

  Van looked at Lisa, really looked at her, and realized how nice it was being with someone. This was what settling down meant. Being around to do things like window-shop on Main Street or go out for lunch.

  He’d never really done much of that. Or any of it, really. But today was showing him just how enjoyable it was.

  One more fight was exactly what he needed. Closure, Pandora would probably say. Then he’d be ready to retire.

  Ready to live this kind of life. He laughed softly.

  Lisa looked up from her mushroom. “What’s funny?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing. I just…I’m having a good day. With you. This is good.”

  She smiled. “I’m having a nice day with you too. Thanks again for the hat. You’re a very kind man.” She looked a little sheepish. “I really did expect you to be such a different kind of guy.”

  “What did you think I would be like?”

  She shrugged. “I’m embarrassed to admit it, but I thought you’d be…less…smart.”

  He barked out a laugh. “I get that a lot.” He stabbed one of the mushrooms for himself, popping it into his mouth. Hot food wasn’t an issue for him any more than heat of any kind was. Dragons could handle it.

  Her smile disappeared. “I’m sorry about that. Not just that I thought it, but that other people think it. It’s not fair. You’re clearly a very smart guy, and you don’t deserve to be judged like that.”

  He swallowed. The mushroom was very good. “Life is not fair. Is no big deal.”

  “That’s for sure. About life not being fair, I mean.”

  He squinted at her. “What would you be doing if you could do anything? Where would you live? Who would you be?”

  She blinked at him, and her mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. She took a breath, then finally answered him. “I love my job.”

  Said with all the enthusiasm of someone who didn’t want word getting back to her boss. He laughed. “I’m sure you do. But come, tell me what dreams you dream.”

  She stared at her fork, her fingers tracing the handle. “I stopped dreaming a long time ago. Dreams turn into disappointments when they don’t come true.”

  That made him sad for her. “But you must think about doing something beyond your life now.”

  She nodded slowly. “I would like the freedom to do whatever I want.”

  “Money, you mean?”

  She laughed bitterly. “Sure, that’s part of it, I guess.”

  “What else?”

  Her gaze turned distant for a moment, then she brought her eyes up to meet his. “Van, there’s something I need to—”

  “Here you go.” Phyllis arrived with their food. “Chicken pot pie for the lady and a steak sandwich for the gentleman.”

  She put their plates in front of them. “What else can I get you? Ketchup for the fries? Side of anything? Horseradish for that steak?”

  Lisa’s smile turned oddly bright. “I’m good. This looks great.”

  “Nothing for me.” Van left his food untouched as the waitress left. He was waiting for Lisa to finish her sentence.

  She broke the pot pie’s crust with her fork, releasing a cloud of steam. “Food sure co
mes out of that kitchen hot, huh? Yours looks good too. Can I steal a fry while I wait for mine to cool down, or are you one of those people who hate to share?”

  “You can have a fry.” Had he imagined her about to say something? Maybe it hadn’t been important, but in the moment, it had felt like she’d been about to unburden the weight of the world from her shoulders. “Was there something you were going to say?”

  She squinched up her face like she was thinking hard. “Um, not that I can remember. Oh, I need to go by the post office. Maybe that was it. Unless you have stamps?”

  “I might. We can stop by.” He picked up one half of his sandwich and started eating.

  He was pretty sure she hadn’t been about to tell him she needed stamps. Obviously, she’d changed her mind about whatever she’d been on the verge of revealing. Something too personal maybe. Something hard.

  He felt for her. Carrying a burden like that was never easy. Maybe someday she’d feel comfortable enough to tell him. Maybe not.

  Whatever it was, he wished he could explain that nothing she told him was going to make any difference about how he felt toward her. In fact, it might even make him like her more.

  But that was a bridge they would have to cross together.

  Monalisa had never been happy about all the parties her father had forced her to attend until now. Those parties had given her a backlog of small talk to pull from, hundreds of inane questions to lob at Van in an attempt to keep the conversation focused on him.

  And away from the fact she’d almost found the courage to tell him the truth.

  Almost. Thankfully, their server had arrived with their food before she’d gone too far. And in those few moments, she’d wised up and realized that telling him in a public place wasn’t going to be any better than telling him in a private place. It could be worse, actually. He might stop her from going back to the house to get her things. Or his friends might band together with him and drive her out of town.

  If she had any money, she’d leave an extra tip for the waitress, because the woman’s interruption had saved Monalisa’s hide.

 

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