More than an Otter (Shifty Book 5)

by Sara Summers

  If I could just make it a few more months, the renovating would be done and the museum would open. Then, I would be living my dreams. All of them, if Grant wasn’t tired of me by then.

  But I had a nagging feeling that he would be, soulmate or not.

  I swam around for another few minutes, a feeling of hopelessness settling into my heart. Grant and I weren’t living any dreams. We were fixing a museum, and that was it. There was no romance, no dancing, no loving words, and no poems. We were just two people working and living together, for no other reason than the marks on our collarbones.

  I flipped over in the water and looked up at the sky.

  “What am I supposed to do?” I called out in my mind.

  My only answer was silence.

  I went back to the beach and climbed out of the water, pulling on my clothes and shivering as cold drops of water dripped from my hair down my arms and my back. Even after I twisted it up into a bun, the icy water dripped down my neck.

  When I picked up my phone, I saw the time. 3:00.

  We’d gotten there at 9, which meant that Grant had been gone for six hours.

  Six hours? That couldn’t be good.

  I paced the beach, water dripping down my neck and wind tugging at my clothes. What could’ve happened to him? Why had he left me alone in the first place? I was his soulmate, and he just left me.

  That was the least romantic thing I’d ever heard of.

  “This sucks.” I sighed, sitting down in the sand. I pulled my knees to my chest and looked out at the waves, waiting for him to show up again. He should’ve been back hours ago, I thought. Hours.

  Yet the clock kept ticking, and I just stared out at the ocean.

  “This would be a poetic way to say goodbye, I guess.” I whispered to myself, tracing words into the sand. “Leaving me alone on the beach, without actually saying anything. But then again, actions are supposed to be louder than words.”

  I rested my head on my knees, and felt the beginning of tears prickling behind my eyes.

  I was alone on the beach, in a place I was completely unfamiliar with. Grant was gone, I was more than an hour away from all the family and friends I had, and I was alone.

  On a beach.

  In a place I’d never been.

  “None of this is how it should be.” I sighed into my knees. “He should be sweeping me off my feet, not leaving me on the beach. He should be telling me he loves me, not swimming away. Shouldn’t he want to be around me?” I refused to cry. “I should’ve known this was going to happen. He didn’t want me for two years.”

  I angrily brushed at the tears that had forced their way past my defenses.

  I glanced down at the clock again.

  5:00. It was 5 PM, eight hours after we’d gotten there.

  And still, I was alone.

  I tried calling Bree, but she didn’t answer. I tried calling my mom, but she didn’t answer either.

  So I lowered myself to the sand and tried again—unsuccessfully, again—to force the tears away.

  But sitting on that beach, having been left by the man who was nothing like the way I thought he was supposed to be, I was lonelier than I’d ever been in my entire life.

  There was absolutely nothing I could do to stop the tears from flowing, no matter how much I wanted to.

  I fell asleep on the beach. It was stupid—anyone could’ve grabbed me. It was immature—what kind of grown up cries themselves to sleep on the sand? But mostly, it was really, really sad.

  What was I supposed to do when nothing went the way I thought it should?

  Chapter 17

  “Kennedy?” Grant said my name, and I heard his voice filled with disbelief. “What are you doing? You can’t sleep on the sand, there are perverts everywhere.” He chastised me.

  I picked my sandy head off the ground, and felt particles of sand fall down my face.

  My eyes were tired, and if it hadn’t been so dark out, probably would’ve looked swollen.

  “I wouldn’t have to if you hadn’t left me.” I slowly stood up, still out of it after sleeping.

  “You had the keys to the truck. You could’ve gone back to the house any time you wanted.” He looked at me like I was a complete idiot.

  “I couldn’t remember how to get back.” I folded my arms over my stomach. It was a little cold out, and my hair was still damp.

  “You could’ve just gone to Walmart, or Wendy’s or something.” Grant glared at me. I stiffened, and then glared right back at him.

  “You left me on the effing beach, without saying if you’d even be coming back. What was I supposed to think? What am I supposed to think? You just effing up and left, didn’t tell me where you were going or ask if I wanted to come. You just left.” I threw his keys at his chest. I walked up the beach, pointedly heading in the direction I knew I wouldn’t find his truck.

  “Where are you going?” Grant called out.

  “Away from you.” I yelled back, climbing up the stairs.

  “How will you get home?” He demanded.

  “With some pervert.” I lifted my hand and flipped him off over my shoulder. “Eff you.”

  I wouldn’t actually take a ride from any guy who asked. Really, I wasn’t that stupid. I couldn’t remember the exact route to take to get back, but I was pretty sure I could get there just fine if I walked.

  I started on my way, fuming with anger. My mate had left me on the beach, and for what? He didn’t even say.

  He’d just left me.

  Honestly, I was more sad than I was furious. Not that I would’ve told Grant that.

  “Kennedy.” Grant protested, pulling up behind me in his truck.

  “I’m not getting in your truck.” I shook my head, looking straight forward as he drove slowly behind me.

  “Are you really doing this?” Grant asked. He was frustrated and thought I was being ridiculous, but there was no effing way I would get in his truck after he was such a jerk to me.

  The idiot hadn’t even apologized for leaving me on the beach all day.

  “I’m sorry, my soulmate doesn’t like it when I talk to sketchy men.” I just kept walking.

  “Kennedy.” Grant warned. “Get in the effing truck.”

  “No.” I said, my voice completely flat.

  “Stop being difficult.” He groaned.

  “Says the guy who left his mate on the beach for twelve hours.”

  “You had the keys to the truck.” Grant snapped.

  “I had no idea where you were or if you were even coming back.” I snapped right back at him, then continued walking.

  “I went back to Oregon, to see my parents.” Grant finally admitted.

  “Why did you stay for so long?” I stopped walking and folded my arms, turning to face him. “You ran into your girlfriend, didn’t you?” I cocked my head to the side.

  “She’s not my—so what if I did?! I’m a free man, and I’m free to do whatever the eff I want.”

  “According to the laws, you’re my husband. I tried to get you to sign a paper making both of us free when we first met, but you refused to sign it. Now you’re off gallivanting with Miriam, and you expect me just to sit here and let it happen?” I stepped up to his open window and glared at him. “Eff you.”

  I spun around and started walking again.

  “Nothing happened. We’re just friends.” Grant protested as he followed behind me, but I could tell he was lying. Call it otter senses or wife senses or artist senses or, whatever—he was lying.

  “You kissed her, didn’t you?” I gaped at him. “You effing kissed another girl, knowing that I’m your soulmate.”

  Grant’s face paled.

  “It was an accident.” He hurried to excuse himself. “I wasn’t planning it, I didn’t mean to—“

  “Whether it was an accident or not, it happened.” I shook my head. “We’re done, Grant. Go home. I don’t trust you anymore.” I walked away again, this time determined not to stop until I got back to the house.
Tears welled up in my eyes, and I angrily wiped them away.

  I was literally living a breakup scene. The only thing I was missing was the rain.

  “Get in the car, Kennedy.” This time, his voice was hard.

  “Eff you.” I repeated, for what felt like the hundredth time. I just wanted him to get away from me, to leave me alone to live my life and not have to be anxious because of him any more.

  “Is everything okay, ma’am?” an officer pulled up behind Grant and flashed his lights for a second.

  “Kennedy.” Grant groaned, parking his car.

  “Is everything alright, ma’am?” The officer repeated. “Do you need help?”

  “I’m fine, officer, but you’d better take my soulmate back to the station before I kill him.” I called back. I could see the markings under his ear by the light in his car, telling me he was a wolf shifter, so I knew he would be sympathetic to soulmates who’d just found each other.

  “What’s he done?” The officer checked, getting out of his car.

  “Left me on the beach to go see his old girlfriend.” Shook my head and tucked an escaped piece of hair behind my ear.

  “I left her with the keys, and I didn’t mean to run into her.” Grant defended himself.

  “Why would you leave your mate alone on the beach?” the officer walked up to Grant’s window. “Take the advice from someone’s who’s had a mate for a long time, she’s worth more than you can imagine. If you make her happy, you’ll make yourself happy.” The officer advised Grant.

  “Thanks.” Grant gave him a forced smile. “Now, tell her to get in the truck so I can get her back home safely?”

  The officer analyzed Grant, then stepped away from the window.

  “Would you like a ride home, miss?” he called out.

  I grinned, for the first time that day.

  “I would appreciate it.” I nodded, walking over to the police car.

  “Kennedy!” Grant protested.

  I slid into the back seat, overly-thrilled to be riding in the seat convicts usually occupied. Being behind bars had never felt so much like freedom.

  Not that I’d been behind bars before.

  Okay, maybe I had. It was one night—one! My friends and I may have graffitied something we shouldn’t have graffitied, and the cops in our tiny town may have locked us up for a few hours to teach us a lesson.

  So anyway, yeah.

  I didn’t even feel bad for Grant. He deserved it, the jerk. What kind of person would kiss their ex-girlfriend, knowing their soulmate was waiting for them back at the home they had been trying to create?

  I shook my head and sighed.

  Why couldn’t things have just worked out the way I’d hoped? Why couldn’t Grant fall in love with me, and romance me, and take me dancing? Why couldn’t he care about me the way I wanted him to? Why couldn’t he understand how I was feeling?

  Instead of trying, he went running back to his girlfriend.

  Miriam.

  I wanted to throw her into the ocean.

  On second thought, I wanted to throw Grant into the ocean. If anyone deserved it, it was that chump.

  Chapter 18

  When I got home, the lights were on. Grant’s truck was outside, but the house was silent.

  I went into our room and he wasn’t there.

  Instead of finding him, I found a blue antique-looking suitcase-box sitting on my pillow.

  As mad as I was at Grant, I couldn’t resist opening the box.

  Inside, it was full of letters.

  My eyes widened when I picked up the first one. All the envelope said was my name, with a date in the corner that someone would usually write a return address in. The date was almost two years ago.

  I picked up another letter, and it was the same. To me, with a date.

  As I went through the box, I pulled out hundreds and hundreds of letters. They were all addressed to me, just my name, and they all had a different date on them.

  I heard another door in the house close, and hurried out to talk to Grant. I stepped in front of him and held up the letter.

  “What is this?” I demanded. “There’s a box full of letters in there.” I gestured with the envelope toward my room.

  “I wrote you a letter almost every day since I’ve known where you are.” Grant shrugged. “I always thought about sending them but was never brave enough to do it.”

  “Why did you give them to me now?” I folded my arms and saw the duffle bag on his shoulder. “You’re leaving.”

  “You don’t want me here anymore.” Grant said. He waited for me to counter him. “And they’re yours. I wrote them for you, they belong to you. They don’t hold anything for me anymore.”

  “Why did you kiss Miriam?” I asked, my brave face crumbling. “I thought you were falling for me, I thought…” I shook my head. “Why?”

  “I didn’t kiss her, she kissed me. I should’ve pushed her away, but I didn’t. I was weak.” Grant admitted. “I shouldn’t have left you on the beach, but I did. I’m sorry.” He said.

  “Me too.” I sat down on the hard, wooden floor. Grant sat beside me, not touching me and not saying anything, either. “What now?” I whispered.

  “I don’t know.” Grant shook his head. “I was right, we’re not ready yet. I’m not good enough for you yet.” He said. “I can tell that I don’t make you happy, you know. I can see the faraway look you get in your eyes, like you’re waiting for some prince to show up. I notice the way your eyes glue on the happy couples we pass. You want what they have.” He said, simply.

  “Is that a bad thing?” I whispered. “I just want someone to love me the way I want to be loved. I want romance, and dancing, and poetry.”

  “But I’m not a poet.” Grant’s words were soft, but it felt like they cut right through my heart.

  He stood up, having nothing else to say.

  I was out of words, too.

  “I guess this is goodbye.” Grant gave me a small, gentle smile.

  “I guess it is.” I bit my lip.

  “Good luck with the museum.” My soulmate reached out and touched the mark on my collarbone, sending his emotions racing through me for the first time in either of our lives.

  And as he walked away, I realized that it would be the last time, too.

  I curled up in a ball on the floor, holding my knees to my chest. If I fell asleep, which I’m not sure I did, it was just like that. Curled up on the floor, my damp, sandy hair chilling my neck and shoulders.

  And I had no idea what to do.

  Chapter 19

  When I woke up the next morning, there was a heavy weight hanging over my head. Grant was gone…

  For good.

  We were done.

  I stood up and pulled my hair over one shoulder. It was so long—had been long for so long, so that I would look good for my mate.

  The mate that had just walked out my door for the last time.

  I missed him already.

  When I walked into the kitchen, I found a piece of paper sitting on my table. Grant had scribbled a quick note saying that we had peacefully decided to go our own way, that I was free to be with whoever I wanted to be with and marry whoever I wanted to marry.

  Staring at that paper, I realized something that I should’ve realized a long time ago.

  “I’ve been catering my whole life to this man.” I gaped down at his signature, and for the first time, I understood. “This isn’t me.” I looked down at my bare feet and pink-painted toes, at the waist-length hair that had always seemed too long to me.

  And so, with my hair still sandy, I grabbed my wallet off the counter, along with the stack of cash Grant had left for me as divorce money, or the closest thing shifters could get to it.

  “I might not have the romance I always dreamed about, but I’m going to be myself if it kills me.” I decided, right then and there.

  With my heart pounding, I took off down the road. I walked the whole mile to the salon I’d seen a million time
s but never gone inside. The receptionist greeted me with a smile, and then took me back into a chair. There were other women sitting around the salon, talking to their hairdressers. It was loud and warm, and it was perfect.

  “Hi, my name’s Bailey.” My hairdresser was a tall, beautiful girl who looked barely older than I was. “You’re Kennedy, right?” She asked. I’d told the receptionist my name before she sat me down, so she must’ve told the hairdresser.

  “Yeah.” I nodded, my heart suddenly pounding. I had never changed my hair before—short, colored hair wasn’t cute in shifter culture. Shifter guys like natural hair, they liked…

  A smile broke out across my face.

  I didn’t have to impress any shifter guys any more, ever again.

  “What are you here for?” Bailey asked. Her smile was bright and friendly, and I knew I was in the right place.

  “I’m not sure.” I admitted. “I just want a change. A really big change.” My heart pounded as I looked down at the hair that fell all the way to my waist. It had always been a pain to take care of, and I had never liked it.

  “What do you want to change? The haircut, the color…” She asked.

  “I don’t know.” I said, a big smile growing on my face. “I’m sorry if I’m being weird, I just… my whole life just changed, and I need something new. Something that fits me better than this.” I picked up my super long, plain brown hair.

  “So you want to change everything?” She checked.

  “Yes.” I nodded, eager for it to just happen.

  “What was the change in your life?”

  “Um,” I looked for a way to explain it that wouldn’t tell her I didn’t believe in soulmates, because I did. Just not in my life, at that time. “I just got out of a bad relationship.” I said, telling her the exact thing I’d seen in the movies and heard in high school. “I had to keep my hair like this, and now…” I shrugged.