She was caught between appreciating that the deer trail was too narrow for them to walk side by side and mourning what a nice night it would be to stroll next to each other and chat. There was so much she didn’t know about him, and when he’d spoken earlier, it was like a whole different Harrison had walked out of the bedroom.
Was he irritated because she talked so freely with Malcolm? His grumpiness lately had seemed more personal, more pointed. The glares he shot his brother, followed by flashes of recrimination, made her think that he wanted his twin to find happiness and was upset at himself about feeling jealous.
Way to get ahead of yourself. Just a couple of weeks ago, she would’ve sworn he hated her. She hadn’t given him a reason not to. And he probably would’ve bet all his money that she detested him. And those would’ve been the words she’d have used.
So much had changed within a week. Yes, she spoke freely with Malcolm, but he didn’t tell her anything. He was a master of small talk, an expert at stretching out details and asking a zillion questions but never revealing a thing about himself. Did Harrison know that? Did he know that his brother wasn’t open with her?
She had no problem giving Malcolm all the space he needed. It wasn’t her business.
Harrison wasn’t her business either. But she was definitely having a problem giving him space. She rubbed her tongue along one canine. She was way too curious about his business.
She reached a spot where the trees thinned, and she meandered around the trunks. More grasses grew here, receiving extra rays of the sun thanks to the thin overhead canopy.
“I was walking faster than I intended.” She rested her hands on her hips to keep herself from charging ahead. This was supposed to be a relaxing walk after the flurry of the last couple of days.
As Harrison entered the clearing, emerging from the shadows cast by the setting sun, a few fading rays highlighted his face. Gold sparkled in his rich brown hair and danced along his beard. Her fingers twitched to roam through those silky strands, to see how different the texture of his hair was from his beard.
She wouldn’t peg him as vain, but he took care of his beard. He kept it trimmed and soft. He was handsome. Good-looking. Hot. His dark expressions often gave others the impression that Malcolm was the better-looking twin. They were identical, but at the moment she thought Harrison was ten times hotter than Malcolm.
This walk wasn’t relaxing. It didn’t appear to be for Harrison either. He seemed tenser than when they’d started, stalking the clearing like the predator he was. The part of him that had unraveled while they were talking over pie was now tightly coiled and bound inside of him. Why?
“Do we need to go back?” she asked. “I don’t have to be out.”
His brows drew down. “There’s no reason to head back.”
“I thought perhaps you sensed something wrong. You seem…” She waved her hand up and down at him. “Stressed.”
“I am. But not because I sense any danger.”
Her heart sank. She dropped her gaze and turned away. She was the one bothering him.
As she was berating herself for allowing her interest to run rampant, a tidal wave of heat slammed into her back. He was right behind her. When she turned, she had to tip her head back. She hated having to look up just as much as she hated needing a stool for the top shelf of her cabinets, but with Harrison, it was thrilling.
“It’s not you.” His lips formed a troubled line. They looked soft. How would they feel if she pressed her lips to them?
How could he tell that was bothering her? “Me?”
“I’m not upset because of you.” His jaw flexed. “Not really.”
“So it is me. I understand that we weren’t friendly before this started. I had a lot of preconceived notions, and I’m sure you had the same. I just hoped that perhaps we’d gotten past that.”
He didn’t relax. His shoulders were wide enough and they were standing close enough that he was all she could see. His scent crowded out the forest. Nothing but clean, dewy male at night. “It was easier when I thought I had a reason to dislike you.”
If he didn’t dislike her, did that mean he liked her? Nervous energy sizzled through her veins. Perhaps it was just his proximity, because it’d be sad if she reacted like this just because he didn’t hate her. “I don’t dislike you anymore either.” She called on her boldness. “It’s more of the opposite.”
“Really?” The confession only sharpened his gaze and made those soft-looking lips turn down. “I can’t… You can’t… You’re my job.”
The words cut through her and her energy dissipated like an early-morning fog. “Right. You’re right. I need to keep that forefront in my mind.” She was about to turn away and give herself a long lecture about professionalism when his hand stroked along her upper arm. He cupped her elbow, rooting her in place.
“I fuck. That’s all. I don’t flirt, I don’t charm, I don’t date, and I don’t do relationships. You deserve all of that, and you deserve it from a better male than me.”
Heat exploded through her body at his words. “Well I appreciate your candor, but I prefer to decide for myself what I deserve and from whom. I believe I’ve earned that privilege.”
She caught his beat of regret. “It would be wrong of me to pretend that there was anything between us.”
“You think there could be though?” She inched closer to him, his hand still closed around her elbow. “All this extra fascination I have with you isn’t my imagination. You feel it, too?”
He took a full step backward, releasing her. “It doesn’t matter. I had this before and it was taken away. It was taken away because—”
She respected his need for space. “I will listen if you care to share.”
Debate raged in the depths of his brown eyes. She could guess what had made him decide to start talking. He knew her entire story, and he likely felt bad that he was letting her down without giving her insight into his. “I had a mate once. We were young and we hadn’t bonded. She was killed long before that could happen.”
She fought the urge to close the distance between them. This confession must take a lot, and he’d already made it plain he wished to keep distance between them. “You’ve lost a lot in your life.” She couldn’t hold in her scornful laugh. “It seems both of us have experienced quite a lot in our short lives.”
His expression lightened. “Yes. I was guessing we were about the same age.”
She was young in shifter years, closing in on thirty. Harrison and Malcolm hadn’t hit the half-century mark. But she felt far older than her years, yet young and stupid at being told he didn’t want to take a chance on this thing between them.
Having them both here had shown her how lonely she was. She didn’t want to lose what they brought to her life. “I’d like to at least be friends.”
“You seem pretty friendly with Malcolm.”
Yes, she enjoyed her time with Malcolm, but the air between her and Harrison’s twin wasn’t charged and loaded. “Friendly, yes. But he is quite the master of superficial relationships. And I’m not as curious about him as I am about you.”
Instead of a glint of humor, his features darkened. “I’m usually the mystery women want to puzzle out, only to realize that they don’t like what they find.”
“I’m not like most females,” she snapped. Comparing her to his long line of past encounters was insulting. He hadn’t shared the memories of his sister with just anyone. “I don’t wish to experience both you and your brother at the same time.”
He had the grace to look ashamed. “No, you’re not like any female I’ve ever met.”
“And you’re not like any male I’ve ever met. Sorry for my earlier judgments.”
He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Me, too.”
They were starting on new footing. Two people who seemed to like each other but couldn’t be more. She feathered her hair behind her ear. His gaze tracked the movement. With the sun sinking farther into the horizon, his eyes
were starting to glow with the reflective sheen of their kind. Hers were probably doing the same.
“Friends?” she asked, because he was becoming more than a bodyguard.
“Friends.” He said the word slowly, like it was a foreign sound his tongue had to get used to.
She doubted Harrison claimed anyone as a friend. Opposites might attract, but she and Harrison were more alike than she’d thought. “Good thing we went for a walk tonight.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. She rarely made anyone smile. So to get a mouth twitch from a male like Harrison? It showed just how far she’d come.
“You’re right about Malcolm,” he said. “I assumed no one noticed.”
“Does anyone spend that much time around him without you?”
His answer was in his eyes.
She’d thought so. They were each other’s buffer. “It’s okay. He’ll talk when he finds someone he trusts. And I enjoy the light conversation.”
“You don’t get that with me.”
“I’m getting it now.”
His lips quirked again. “My voice might get hoarse if we keep going like this.”
Her laughter felt good. So did his twinkling eyes. Everyone liked to point out how different the twins were aside from their appearance, and he probably did the same in his head. But he’d just wielded an ounce of charm so effectively that he could rival his brother in that department. And she was the only one who knew.
She’d like to stay and keep talking, but then it’d feel forced. “Can we walk again tomorrow night?”
“Only if you promise to laugh again.” A hint of a smile played along his lips, but the way he looked at her sent a wave of heat rolling through her body. He wasn’t teasing her.
“If you’ll keep it a secret that I have a sense of humor.”
“Sylva, your secrets will always be safe with me.”
Chapter 7
“I thought we were going to walk.” Sylva’s petulant tone made him want to laugh. They were standing in the middle of her yard with a sky packed full of stars above them.
“Since we walked the last couple of nights, I thought we could do this instead.” He wanted to hang out alone in the forest with her. The last two nights, they’d gone on one run and then one walk. During their strolls, they’d talked.
The first night, he’d asked her about the garden and he’d gotten more information on vegetable planting and her canning calendar than he’d bargained for. He’d hung on every word. Last night, she’d asked about what it was like growing up with a twin.
Stories of his childhood had spilled out like she’d rubbed a genie lamp. He told her about the time he and Malcolm tried drag racing on the highway and caught the attention of human police. It’d taken Father’s interference, calling in special favors from others shifters to use their abilities, to get the whole thing dropped.
Tonight, he wanted nothing more than to hear the sweet chimes of her laughter and know that he was the cause. Him. Harrison Wallace, professional brooder.
He never made anyone laugh. Gloria had been so worried about everything that he couldn’t get through to her. But unlike Gloria, Sylva was already in a position of power and willing to fight for it.
And that’s where his idea had come from. He hadn’t known how she’d receive it, but it wasn’t looking good. Were three walks enough for her to trust him?
“I thought I could show you some moves. Self-defense moves.”
She arched a dark brow. “Oh, really?”
“We noticed you never attend.”
She looked away. “It wasn’t because I don’t think they’re good courses.”
“It was because of who taught them.”
Guilt reflected in her eyes. “Not exactly.”
“Can I work with you now?”
Her gaze danced around the yard as if seeking refuge. “I don’t know that I’m comfortable with that.”
He could guess where her additional hesitance was coming from. If she’d gotten over who her instructor was, then it must be what he would be teaching. “I won’t lay a hand on you.”
“It’s not that.” Her gaze met his. A million stars shone in her eyes, making them luminous. And revealing her vulnerability. “I’m not scared of you, Harrison.” She paused, her brows knit. “I’m known for being tough, but not vicious. I created my new life around the idea that I wasn’t like my mate and his family. I was different.”
That she was better. She didn’t have to say it, but it clarified why she didn’t like violence. He couldn’t tell her to just embrace her shifter side. She’d had to embrace everyone else’s her entire life.
He mulled over the issue. It wasn’t as simple as letting her off the hook, saying no problem, we’ll work around it. Her life was in danger.
He wasn’t giving up. “Self-defense isn’t about being ready to fight. It’s about learning the skills that you would choose to use if the time ever came. How about you tell me what you wished you knew the night John Todd was here?”
The crease between her brows deepened, but she considered his words. Her expression softened and the corner of her mouth crept up. “I actually thought about how I skipped those damn courses that night. I wished I’d gone to every one.”
“We can help you catch up. Our lessons include fighting in wolf form, too.”
She sighed and glanced at the house. “How about I do a session with you at night and one during the day with Malcolm?” She chewed on the corner of her lip. “But no firearms.”
“No firearms.” He understood why she’d have a hang-up about guns. It was more critical she learned to fight with her hands and teeth—and her claws. Then they’d work on firearms, since she still had a pistol loaded with silver-laced bullets under her roof.
“Should I change?”
She was wearing leggings that hugged her like a second skin and a baggy T-shirt that played peekaboo with the curves of her hips. No, he didn’t want her to change, but she also wouldn’t need to.
“No. We can work our wolves tomorrow night, unless Malcolm wants to teach you.”
“Okay. Where do we begin?”
Sylva kicked, aiming straight for Malcolm’s gut. He deflected and lunged for her again. She punched like he’d taught her. Throat. Nuts. Throat. He caught each one like he was wearing a catcher’s mitt.
“Good. Ready to shift?”
He’d asked yesterday, but hand-to-hand was easier. She imagined Roman’s sneering face, heard his words in her head. A stronger female would…
But shifting reminded her too much of John Todd. “I think I can do okay as my wolf.” She had already, after all. Getting used to the lessons hadn’t been as hard as she’d thought. It was a physical release, just like hours of canning, but more innate. It came naturally and that bothered her.
Skills you would choose to use… That made all the difference.
But he didn’t buy her excuse to skip shifting. “What happens when it’s two of them and you don’t have the element of surprise?”
Dammit. “Fine.”
“If you’re more comfortable waiting until tonight with Harrison, that’s fine with me. I just want you to practice.”
Harrison was a good instructor. He went at her pace, which was much faster than she’d expected. And he’d been true to his word. He mimed the moves and didn’t touch her until they got started with practice. Then he was always on the receiving end, catching her hits as deftly as Malcolm. Her kicks, too. The twins seemed indestructible, but instead of feeling weak, she was empowered in a way she’d never thought she could be.
“It’s not who works with me. It’s that…” She didn’t want to panic and run to her house and hide in front of them.
“You’re afraid you can’t overcome your fear.”
“Harrison saw me like that and I—” She shook her head. “You and I should practice.”
“Let’s walk through it. Say you and Harrison shift and he snarls just like John Todd did and you run away. Then what?�
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She bit the insides of her cheeks. Her eyes burned like she wanted to cry. If this was just talking about it, what would the real thing be like?
“Then what, Sylva?” Malcolm’s tone was softened by patience. “Then he’d find you and talk you out of the corner and you’d try again when you calmed down. And if it happened again, he’d find you again. You get the picture. That’s the worst-case scenario. Does it sound doable?”
“It sounds humiliating.”
“You can survive humiliation. And we both know Harrison will go through that scenario a hundred times for you.”
“He’d do it for anyone.” While they practiced, Malcolm was relaxed and easygoing, reading her readiness like a master.
“He might, but I’ve never seen it.” He shrugged. “Harrison plays the bad guy in our workshops. Attendees are already half pissing themselves when he walks in, so it gives them a feeling of reality when he’s the aggressor.”
“But he’s a natural.”
“Yep. He also has a resting bastard face, so he works that angle.” She giggled and he shot her a curious look. “You two seem to be getting along well. Taking a lot of walks together.”
“I like his stories.”
Malcolm’s brows shot up, his brown eyes filled with disbelief. “He’s telling stories?”
She nodded. “You know, like your drag racing and how you got mad at him and dug up your mother’s roses and blamed him. I’m sure he’s told you what we talk about.” Now that the environment wasn’t as tense, the twins overlapped their schedules so they weren’t just two shifters crossing paths twice a day.
Malcolm’s jaw dropped. He snapped it closed. “No. He hasn’t.”
She didn’t know what to say. Harrison didn’t talk to Malcolm about them? Didn’t the twins share everything? The urge to ruminate over the finding was too strong. She changed the subject.
“Mind turning around while I shift? I’m still getting used to shifting around others.”
Malcolm’s eyes narrowed before he turned his back to her. She wasn’t the only one who wanted to know more about Harrison’s reticence.
A Shifter's Bodyguard (Pale Moonlight Book 5) Page 8