“People in town love you, Zane,” Molly said. “Whatever this big, secret ‘difference’ is that you have, I can’t imagine it’s anything so serious that people would change their minds about how great you are.”
Zane had just pulled up in front of Molly’s house. “I wish you were right, Molly. But I’m not so sure.”
Molly felt her heart skipping a beat at the sound of her name on his tongue. He looked so sad and vulnerable right now, which was strange. She had never seen any of the Wilson boys in a vulnerable moment. They always came across as tough as steel. But right now, Zane was letting her see a side of himself that was much deeper than steel. She wanted to reach over and give him a hug, but she was worried he would take it the wrong way. So she settled for reaching over to gently squeeze his shoulder.
“Well, speaking for myself at least, I think you are amazing. I can’t imagine judging you for being different, whatever that silly difference might be.”
Zane looked over at her with a sad smile. “Thanks,” he said. His voice was low and soft, and Molly could feel her heart racing and her body heating up in response to the intense look in his eyes. She started to panic. She had to get out of here before one or the other of them did something stupid like lean in for a kiss.
As she started to reach for the handle of her door, her front porch light started flickering wildly. She let out a groan of irritation when she saw it, but Zane actually sat up straighter and looked over at the light with concern.
“I know, I know,” Molly said. “The flickering is annoying. I’m not sure why it does that, but it drives me crazy.”
But Zane’s look of concern only deepened. “How old is your house, Molly?” he asked.
“Um, about thirty years old, why?”
“Do you know when the last time was that someone checked the electrical systems in the house?” Zane asked.
Molly shook her head no. It had never occurred to her that there was any problem with the actual electrical systems. She’d just thought the bulb on the porch light needed to be replaced, and it had been pretty low on her list of priorities.
Zane frowned deeply. “Molly, let me come by and look at the house tomorrow. I don’t have any appointments in the morning, and I’m worried about your safety. That light shouldn’t be flickering like that.”
“I don’t have money right now for an electrician,” Molly said, her voice suddenly growing tense. “And I don’t want to impose on you.”
“It’s not an imposition,” Zane said. “You don’t have to pay me. Or if you’re going to be a stubborn ass and insist on paying me something then you can just do so whenever you’re a little more back on your feet. But I think something’s wrong here, and I want to help you with it. That’s what friends do, you know?”
Molly sat in stunned silence. Zane had just referred to himself as her friend. It had been a long, long time since someone had done that, and she felt, to her embarrassment, tears welling in her eyes.
“I’ll take your silence as a yes,” Zane said. “I’ll be over at nine tomorrow morning, okay?”
Molly wanted to protest again, but she was afraid that if she did, she was going to start crying. So she just nodded and gave Zane a small smile and wave, then left his truck and went into her house as quickly as she could.
As soon as she shut the door behind her, she leaned against it and let the tears fall. She wasn’t sure if they were tears of worry or happiness, or a mixture of both. All she really knew right now was that Zane Wilson did funny things to her heart.
Chapter Ten
Zane pulled up into Molly’s driveway slowly, taking care not to turn too quickly and cause the coffee in his cup holders to slosh around too violently. He had taken the liberty of stopping at one of the local coffee shops to grab some coffee and breakfast pastries for himself and Molly. He had no idea how she took her coffee, or whether she even liked coffee. But he figured it would be impolite to show up with a coffee for himself and not for her. He climbed out of his truck and carefully balanced the coffee cups in one hand while holding the bag of pastries in the other. With his peripheral vision, he saw one of the neighbors' curtains fluttering, and a curious face quickly disappearing from the window.
Zane rolled his eyes. He loved Persimmon Springs, but sometimes the people here could be so damn nosy. He imagined that a few neighbors had noticed him dropping Molly off for the last two evenings, and were now curious why he was here again in the morning. No doubt, the rumor mill was already churning.
Not that Zane cared much whether people thought he and Molly were together. To be honest, he’d played with the idea of asking her out ever since their ride home last night. The more he got to know her, the more he could feel himself falling for her. She was sweet, kind, and easy to talk to. He hadn’t intended to go so deep into the conversation about being different last night. But she had seemed so despondent, and he had wanted to cheer her up. Besides, he’d already spent the whole evening mulling over what it felt like to be judged for being different. He had the note from his mystery writer to thank for that.
He’d wondered, yet again, whether there was any possibility that Molly was the mystery writer. It was strange how she seemed just as concerned with being “weird and different” as the mystery writer seemed to be. But Zane figured that it was another strange coincidence. After all, lots of people felt like they were different and didn’t fit in for a variety of reasons. And why would Molly be writing him secret notes at the same time that she was having conversations with him during the ride home from the bar? If she wanted to talk to him, she already had the opportunity. She didn’t need silly secret notes to do that.
Zane rang the doorbell, and it only took a few seconds for Molly to swing the door open with a smile on her face. Zane was taken aback for a moment at how beautiful she looked right now. The last few times he’d seen her, she’d been in her full magician’s getup, complete with sparkling velvet robe and heavy, shimmering makeup. Of course, she looked amazing as a magician, but her magician look had nothing on the raw, natural beauty standing in front of him right now.
She was wearing a flowy white tunic over a pair of black leggings. A colorful, long necklace of beads hung from her neck, and was matched by a colorful beaded bracelet on her wrist. She was barefoot, showing off the deep purple polish on her toes—which matched the purple polish on her fingernails. Her wild, curly red hair was pulled up into an attempt at bun. But her hair would not be tamed, and spiraling tendrils spilled over from the bun, giving it a chic messy look and framing her beautiful oval face. She didn’t appear to be wearing any makeup, but still her skin glowed and her cheeks had a natural hint of pink to them. And her eyes. Oh, those emerald green eyes. Zane found himself staring into them for several long moments before remembering that he was supposed to be here for work, not for a date.
“Hey, good morning,” he said, trying to sound casual, and not like his heart was trying to beat its way out of his chest. “I picked up some coffee and thought I’d grab you some, but I wasn’t sure how you take it so it’s just black. I figured you’d probably have cream and sugar here to add, if you wanted to.”
“I usually take it with a bit of sugar. Thank you,” Molly said, reaching out to take the offered cup from him. “Please, come on in.”
Zane followed her into her home, which was surprisingly neat and tidy. For some reason, he had expected her house to be as wild and disorganized as her hair often was. He figured someone with a brain as eccentric as Molly’s probably had a bit of a messy house to match. But the place looked pristine. Everything was in its place, and there was not a speck of dirt or dust to be seen in the place. Zane knew there was no way Molly had cleaned up just because he was coming over. She wouldn’t have had time between last night and now, unless she had forgone sleep in order to clean. And she looked well-rested. Her eyes were bright, and she was full of energy.
The kitchen was slightly less spotless than the rest of the house, although it was still quite or
ganized. It was a large room, with an island in the center that Molly apparently used as cooking surface. Right now, there were a few cookbooks and notebooks stacked on one side, and several mixing bowls stood at the ready besides bags of flour, sugar, and other baking staples. It looked like Molly had already been up baking for a while already, because a dusting of flour covered one corner of the island, and on the opposite countertop, a wire cooling rack held what looked like several large sugar cookies.
“Oh, I brought some pastries, too,” Zane said, then gestured toward the cooling rack. “But it looks like you’ve already made your own treats.”
“Oh, those…” Molly said, sounding suddenly defensive. “I guess I got a little carried away. That’s more cookies than I’ll ever be able to eat myself.”
Something suddenly clicked in the back of Zane’s mind. Molly’s green eyes. Her insistence that she was unlovable because she was different. The fact that she was baking a bunch of cookies, just like the mystery note writer.
It was all too much coincidence.
“Molly…” Zane said, then faltered, searching for words. How did you ask someone whether they were the one responsible for random acts of kindness? Whether they had been the one writing you secret notes that bordered on love notes?
Molly seemed to realize that Zane had suddenly become suspicious of something, because she started to look a little panicked. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but no words came out. Zane felt his heart beating faster. Was it really possible, that the “two” women he’d been falling for over the last few days were actually one and the same. He ran his fingers through his hair and glanced away from Molly for a moment, trying to process everything that was going on. When he looked away, his eyes fell on the stack of cookbooks and notebooks on the corner of the island nearest him. That’s when he saw it:
On one of the notebooks, written in that same neat script he would have recognized anywhere, was a list of ingredients for a cookie recipe. Zane felt a thrill pass through his stomach, and he felt his body heating up. Molly’s handwriting was the same as the mystery writer. She was the mystery writer. Zane looked up at her, his eyes widening.
“It’s you,” he said softly.
Molly quickly moved to cover the notebook with a bag of flour, sending a little puff of white into the air as she did.
“What’s me?” she asked, trying to laugh casually but sounding impossibly nervous.
“You’re the note writer. And the one leaving all the cookies around for everyone.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Molly said, refusing to look him in the eye. Zane quickly walked around the counter, then took Molly’s chin in his hand and gently turned her face toward his. He could feel fiery heat passing between their bodies, and his dragon within him was rising up and taking notice of the beautiful woman whose face he held in his palm.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Zane said, his breathing heavy and his voice husky. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
A momentary flash of anger passed across Molly’s eyes. It was gone in an instant, but Zane still saw it.
“Tell you what? Who I am? And have you laugh in my face for thinking that a weirdo like me ever had a chance with a man like you?”
“Do I look like I’m laughing?” Zane asked, his voice low and intense. Molly reluctantly met his eyes with hers. She didn’t say anything, but Zane could feel her trembling at his touch.
“I’ve fallen in love with you over the last few days,” Zane said. “I can’t tell you how much of a thrill it gave me to watch you up on stage, working your magic. But I also fell in love with whoever was writing me those notes. And I had a hard time understanding how it was possible to be falling in love with two different women at the same time. Now I know. It’s because it wasn’t two different women. It was you. All you.”
“But…” Molly said.
Zane cut her off. “And before you start telling me that you’re different and weird, let me tell you that I am, too. I know you don’t believe me, but I am. I’m half dragon, Molly. How’s that for weird?”
Zane’s voice rose as he spoke, and Molly’s eyes flew up to him in confusion when he made his confession. Then the anger flashed across her eyes again, and she pushed him away.
“Don’t make fun of me,” she yelled. “This isn’t a joke. I thought you were a better man than that. How can you sit there and make up some nonsense about being part dragon, like I’m dumb enough to actually believe it.”
Zane’s heart pounded faster. He had to show her now. He had to prove to her that he wasn’t making fun of her. He could feel every fiber of his being as it was drawn to her. He wanted her. He needed her. This wasn’t a joke to him at all. Not even close.
He stepped away from her, and took a deep breath in, then let it out into the air in a long stream of flames. For a moment, an almost unbearable heat filled the air as the orange fire lit up the space above the counter. Smoke filled the air, and Molly stared at Zane in complete shock. For a brief instant, everything was completely silent as they stood staring at each other. Then, the smoke alarm in Molly’s kitchen went off.
“Sorry,” Zane said going to open the window and waving some of the thick smoke out until the smoke alarm quieted. “I guess I got carried away.”
Molly was still staring at him, openmouthed. “How did you do that?” she asked. “I’ve never seen a magic trick that good.”
“It’s not a trick,” Zane said. “I’m part dragon, like I told you.”
“That’s impossible,” Molly said, still looking at him suspiciously. “Seriously what trick are you using? I thought I knew all the fire tricks in the book, but you somehow performed one I don’t know.”
“It’s not a trick,” Zane said. “Watch.”
He held his hand up in front of her and partially shifted so that his arm suddenly became the giant, clawed hand of a dragon. His scales were iridescent green and purple, and his claws shimmered all the way down to their razor sharp points.
“How?” Molly whispered.
“It’s not a trick,” Zane said. “I’m a dragon shifter. Part dragon. The ability to change into a dragon is embedded into my DNA.”
“Impossible,” Molly said, still looking unsure.
Zane shrugged, letting his hand shift back into human form. “It’s not impossible. It’s just who I am. Still think I’m not weird?”
“You’re serious? This isn’t a magic trick. You’re actually a shapeshifter?”
“I’m actually a shapeshifter. A dragon one, to be precise,” Zane said.
Molly’s eyes widened. “I didn’t think they actually existed.”
“They do,” Zane said. “And you didn’t answer my question. Still think I’m not weird?”
A grin slowly appeared on Molly’s face, widening as she looked over at him. “You’re my kind of weird,” she said.
Zane felt a hot fire shoot through his being at her words, and he couldn’t hold back any longer. He crossed the space between them in two giant steps, pulled Molly into his arms, and kissed her with all his might.
Chapter Eleven
Molly felt like she had been sucked into some sort of whirlwind. Everything had happened so fast. She’d been standing there in the kitchen, nervously laughing and talking to Zane about how she took her coffee. Then the next thing she knew, he’d realized who she was. She’d panicked, thinking he was sure to run off at that point. But he hadn’t. Instead, he’d shown her a side to himself that she was still struggling to comprehend.
He was a shifter. A dragon. And, despite how much she had doubted him, he had proven to her that he did understand what it was like to be different. She knew how straight-laced the people of Persimmon Springs could be. Many of them would have trouble understanding a man like Zane. She felt like her whole world had just been turned on its head, and it was hard for her to tell how much of that was because of the shifter revelation, and how much was because Zane’s lips on hers felt incred
ible.
She’d never been kissed like this before. She’d never had arms around her that were so strong and sure. And her body was responding in a way it never had before. She could feel heat filling her from the top of her head all the way down through her arms, torso, legs, and toes. She was on fire with a desire she’d never felt before.
She was usually the kind of girl who couldn’t even bring up the courage to kiss a man, due to uncontrollable nerves. But the flip-flopping she was feeling in her stomach right now wasn’t from nervousness. It was from a deep ecstasy that was flooding over her entire being.
She wondered for a moment if she should say something. Should they stop, and talk about what they were doing here before sleeping together? But she quickly pushed the thought away. She didn’t want to talk about this. She just wanted more of it. She wanted more of Zane’s arms around her, more of his mouth on her mouth, and more of his skin against her skin. She wanted to feel the way she felt right now forever. Strong, wanted, and beautiful.
It wasn’t long before Molly could hardly think at all anymore. She rode the waves of ecstasy as they lifted and fell, then lifted again. Zane kissed her for what felt like a glorious eternity, running his hands from her cheeks, to her back, to her ass, and never allowing his tongue to slip out of her mouth. Eventually, he moved his hands to reach for the hem of her tunic, lifting it up and over her head. Molly shivered with delight as he ran his finger up her stomach and down again, ending with a delicious little circle around her bellybutton. Then he reached behind her and unclasped her bra, leaving her naked, alert breasts rising and falling gently as she looked up at him in wonder and tried to catch her breath.
Lone Star Magic (Shifters in the Heart of Texas Book 3) Page 7