by E A Price
“New haircut?” he guessed.
Maris had taken him to a salon. She said there was absolutely no need for him to cut his own hair when there were so many perfectly good stylists in the world. Which meant he had to sit in a chair for an hour while a young woman called Pixie chopped and snipped and tried to persuade him that a blue tint would suit him. But, he had to admit that tidy hair did rather suit him, and Maris did so like running her fingers through his hair, or clutching at it when he needed to taste her…
“While I’m glad that you finally submitted to a professional, it’s not that either. It’s just… you look happy.”
She gave him a perplexed look.
“Is that really such a surprise?”
“Frankly, yes. It’s been years since you were happy. Have you…” A hand flew to her mouth. “Are you dating? Are you actually dating someone?”
“Well, maybe,” he admitted awkwardly.
“A female?”
“Well, yes a female.”
He was surprised Bella hadn’t blabbed the truth to everyone, but on their return from the Caribbean, it was to find that Bella was already engaged to another male – a buffalo shifter from Canada. She had no interest in telling anyone about him and Maris. Perhaps she preferred for people to think that she had lost interest in Clay thanks to her new buffalo male, rather than them believing that he had chosen Maris over her. It certainly wouldn’t have been true, but it was what people would think.
It didn’t matter the reason; it just meant that he and Maris could relax and spend time together. They weren’t going out of their way to hide, but they weren’t flaunting their relationship.
Martha balled her hands and placed them on her hips, giving him the pout that she had surely inherited from their mother. It was a look she usually directed at Branch or Harlan.
“And when exactly do I get to meet her?”
“Martha.”
“Okay, okay, I won’t nag, but I would like to meet this female that has you so happy and give her a hug to say thank you.”
“Martha.”
“I know, I know, butt out big sister. I actually came to tell you that our meeting with the caribou herd has been pulled forward.”
Clay bristled slightly thinking of Jason – he was part of that herd, and he couldn’t help but let that taint his view of them. As far as he knew Jason hadn’t been bothering Maris over the last few weeks, but he wasn’t entirely sure she would tell him if he was. It was possible Maris wouldn’t tell him to spare his irritation, but he had to wonder whether Maris might actually have an interest in the odious young shifter.
His inner reindeer snorted. From what she said, he’d say not, but then, Jason was a young, strong shifter. Plenty of females would lose their heads over him – and all sense of reason. Plus, he knew that one day Maris would find someone to mate and leave him…
“I hope you didn’t have plans for this evening; it looks like we’re going to be stuck here a while. Branch is not pleased.”
“It’s fine,” he murmured.
Martha gave him a sympathetic look. “Seriously, tell your mystery woman to keep up the good work. She must be special.”
Clay smiled and grabbed his phone as she left. Yes, he did think she was special, and that could be a problem.
Twenty-Four
Maris thanked George for the ride and made her way to her front door. She was supposed to have dinner with Clay, but when work came up, she decided to just go to her mother’s.
George had been gruff and grunted the whole time while her mother nagged him about various things – like taking a vacation, throwing out his socks with holes in, eating more vegetables – the list went on and on. The food had been good though – it should be, they ordered pizza.
She was disappointed that Clay couldn’t make dinner, but she had seen him virtually every night for the last few weeks, missing one night wouldn’t hurt. She told herself that over and over, and she was still a little sad. However, hopefully, she would see him tomorrow. Maybe she could cook something for him… Maris winced even as she thought it. Her last attempt at a gourmet meal resulted in her needing a new kitchen, new eyebrows, and Fifi growing new fur. Maybe she could order something from a restaurant. Yes, that was probably the way to go. Fifi really would never forgive her if she singed her fur again.
Maris smiled automatically as she thought of Clay. She had worried he wanted their relationship to be casual, but that wasn’t the case at all. Maybe he didn’t see a future for them, but he wasn’t treating her as if she was some forgettable booty call either. He had even allowed her to take him shopping and pick out clothes for him. Jeez, maybe she was more like her mother than she thought.
She found Fifi on her front stoop, hissing and fur bristling.
“What’s got you so upset, sweetheart?” murmured Maris, kneeling to stroke her. “Has that kitten from two doors down been picking on you again?”
Fifi may be an indomitable force when it came to getting what she wanted from humans, but she was an absolute wuss when it came to other cats.
Her cat didn’t stop spitting, and when Maris detected the lingering scent of far too much overpriced aftershave, she realized why.
Maris looked up as Jason appeared. For a large male, he could certainly lurk in the shadows effectively. She supposed with his personality he was a natural born lurker.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, straightening.
A wary glance around the small courtyard proved her suspicion right – they were alone.
“I was in the neighborhood,” he said casually. “On my way home.”
Sure. She knew for a fact that the caribou herd had their own compound on the other side of town.
“I see.”
“I was wondering if you would care to have dinner with me?”
His smile twinkled, but his eyes were cold and predatory. She had no doubt he had little interest in her, more like he enjoyed the hunt. It probably both annoyed and delighted him that she didn’t just say yes and fall at his feet.
“No.”
Jason’s eyebrow’s flickered. “No?”
“No,” she repeated in an even firmer voice. “Good night.”
She moved to the door, and Fifi huffed, turned tail and showed him her sizable rear. Not that he was going to leave it there. Maris actually had her key in the lock before Jason managed to shoulder his way between her and the door.
“Please move,” she said softly.
“You know I’m not used to women saying no to me.”
Maris snorted. Said every pervert everywhere.
“Consider this a learning curve then, now please move.”
“Don’t you want to give me a chance? I assure you, you won’t regret it.”
Maris glared at him, tired of trying to be polite. “I already regret how much time we’ve spent together. I don’t want to spend more with you.”
“There’s no need to be a bitch,” he said, in the same honeyed tone. He grasped one of her arms, holding her in place. “One night with me and you’d completely forget that old reindeer.”
Maris snapped to look at him, and he burst into delighted laughter.
“Oh please, I’ve seen him coming to your house late at night.”
She let out an involuntary shiver as she realized that meant Jason had been watching her house late at night. How many times had he been out there without her noticing?
“That’s none of your business,” she said haughtily while trying to tug her arm out of his grip.
“Surprised that old bastard can even get it up,” chuckled Jason with an evil grin.
“He’s not…” Nope, she was not going to be drawn into such a lowbrow argument with this man. “I want you to leave.”
He looked at her as if she was mad. “You’d really prefer him to me?”
“In every way possible!” snarled Maris, thrusting her face at him.
Her inner beast chuffed and hooted in a fury. How dare he say anythi
ng about their… well, not their mate, but, their… ‘kind of’ boyfriend. Yeah, how dare he say anything about their ‘kind of’ boyfriend!
Jason smirked at her. “We’ll see.”
He snatched her towards him and planted his very unwelcome lips on hers.
*
Clay parked his car on Maris’ street. The meeting had been long and tedious, but at least that oily little twerp Jason hadn’t been there. He was quite sure it would have been worse having to endure his smirk through the entire meeting. Clay had noticed in their last meetings that the male did so like to smirk at him.
It was late, but he was sure Maris would not mind if he dropped by. She might be tired, but he would be happy just to sleep next to her. Their relationship wasn’t just about sex – though he wouldn’t deny how much he enjoyed that – he just liked being with her. The idea of returning home to his cold, empty bed when he could snuggle up to Maris was not enticing in the least.
He was about to get out his car when he spotted Maris on her stoop, talking to… His ire rose, and his beast howled as he realized it was Jason.
He was about to leap out his car, run across there and snarl at the male to leave her alone. But as he watched Jason kiss her, he stopped. His heart beat so loudly it was nearly deafening.
He couldn’t watch this, couldn’t see her with another male. Clay ripped his gaze away and with fumbling hands, started his car and drove away.
His emotions roiled inside him. First sadness, and then anger at Jason, and then anger at Maris, but regret soon followed that. Maris wasn’t really doing anything wrong – he’d told her from the start she could find someone else if she wanted, someone who would mate her. It appeared that she had.
Clay pulled over to the side of the road and banged his fists on the steering wheel with enough enthusiasm to dent the damn thing.
“You foolish old man!” he growled.
He thought of Crystal, and he felt even worse. He had allowed himself to fall for Maris, he had allowed himself to love her, and now not only had he lost her, but he felt like he had betrayed his mate. Well, everything that was happening was his own fault. There was no one else to blame; he just had to live with it.
He shook his head and calmly started to drive home – not exactly an easy feat with the dent in his steering wheel.
*
Fifi roared – as much as a housecat could – and dug her claws into Jason’s leg, just as Maris bit his lip.
Jason let out a howl of pain and freed Maris. She tore herself away from him and gave him a slap that would make his ears ring for days to come.
“Don’t you ever do that again!” she screeched and pushed him away from her door.
As he whimpered over his leg, lip, and cheek, Maris picked up Fifi and marched into her house, firmly slamming the door behind her.
Twenty-Five
“Clay!” called Maris.
He stopped and stared at her as she caught up to him. She looked at him with concern and confusion, and his tumultuous heart missed a beat.
She had called him, but he had not answered, and he had not returned her calls in spite of her pleading messages that he do so. Yes, he was behaving childishly and selfishly, but he was still angry and hurt, and it was made worse by the fact that he knew it was entirely his own fault.
Now she had tracked him down at his office.
Her lovely face regarded him worriedly. “Is something wrong? Has something happened?”
“I was busy,” he said in what he hoped was a neutral way.
“Oh.” She waited, hoping for more, but he didn’t know what to say. “That’s fine. Do you want to get together tonight?” she asked hopefully.
“That won’t be possible.”
She deflated somewhat. “Well, how about tomorrow night?”
“I…” There were plenty of things he wanted to say – such as begging her not to leave him for Jason, but he didn’t see that there was any point. She deserved a chance at finding a mate, and he had already had his.
“We really shouldn’t see each other anymore,” he said bluntly.
Maris looked like he had slapped her in the face. “Why?”
“It’s obvious we aren’t well suited,” he replied gruffly and in a blatant lie – they fit together just fine.
“I don’t understand…”
“I think we’ve had fun, but we shouldn’t see each other anymore.”
His reindeer hooted in frustration, but Clay had to do this. Besides, she was already carrying on with Jason – it would only be a matter of time before the roles were reversed and she was telling him she no longer wanted to see him.
“But I thought…”
“Is there anything else?” he said indifferently. “Because I am rather busy.”
“Ummm…”
“Good.”
He strode away, pretending like every step didn’t feel like he was wading through quicksand.
*
“Whoa!”
Maris ran into Ariel, and all her papers and files went flying.
“I’m sorry,” tremored Maris.
She knelt down and started scooping up various pieces of paper. In her rush to get out of there, to get away before she started crying, she almost knocked over Ariel.
“Is everything okay?” asked Ariel, kneeling next to her.
“It’s fine,” she mumbled.
“Maris, you’re crying, it’s not okay,” said Ariel in stern, motherly voice that sounded unbelievably similar to Martha’s.
“I just, umm…”
A tear splashed onto the piece of paper she was holding.
Ariel rubbed her back. “C’mon, let’s go get a drink.”
“I don’t really drink alcohol,” sniffled Maris.
“Me either – well, except for eggnog at Christmas. No, I had something much more bracing in mind.”
Twenty-Six
“Wow, that is certainly coffee,” mumbled Maris after daring a sip. She looked down at her feet – just to check her socks were still there because the brew seemed strong enough to knock them off.
Ariel smiled and inhaled the scent of her own cup. “It’s pretty intoxicating, right?”
“That’s one word for it.”
Maris had another sip, and she felt all her sinuses unblocking. Perhaps alcohol might have been a better option. Ariel brought her to a coffee shop called Magic Brew. Their magic seemed to be in creating coffee that was closely approaching tar.
“That’s the mildest brew they do – it’s called Summer Breeze. It’s a one on their scale.”
Maris peered at Ariel’s cup. “What are you drinking?”
“Stormy Weather – it’s an eight. Want to try it?”
“I don’t think so. I don’t think I can manage more than a few sips of mine.”
Ariel giggled. “Takes a while to get used to it. My friends and I started coming here when I was a teenager – when we thought it was so cool to drink coffee. They got bored of it, but I was addicted.”
Maris placed her cup on the table. “I don’t really drink coffee much,” she admitted. “My mom insists that it’s bad for the skin.” Maris let out a chirrup of laughter. “But then, she also used to say that mashing banana into your hair was good for it.”
“Oh, I’ve heard that one too, did you ever try it?”
“Yep, she used to banana me up once a month – until I got attacked by a bunch of monkeys at the zoo. She let the banana thing go after that, particularly as one bit me – it involved a lot of painful shots.”
Ariel burst into laughter. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t laugh.”
Maris chuckled. “No, it was pretty funny - almost as good as when she used yogurt as a face crème. She used to massage it into my cheeks, right up until I was chased by a swarm of bees. I got stung like fifty times, and my face swelled up to Godzilla proportions.”
“Oh!” Ariel had tears of laughter in her eyes.
“My mom means well; she just tends to believe beaut
y fads without thinking them through.”
After a few minutes Ariel managed to get control of herself, and she gave Maris a look of sympathy. “So, dumped?”
“Yeah.”
“Sucks.”
“Yeah.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
Maris shook her head sadly, thinking of Clay. “I found a male that I really liked, but while I want him, he doesn’t want me.” She knew that from the start, so she really shouldn’t be upset about it now – though she definitely was.
“Yeah, I know how that goes,” muttered Ariel. There were a few moments of silence before she added, “I’m sorry if I haven’t been very nice to you in the past.”
Maris smiled. “You were never mean to me.”
She didn’t think Ariel had it in her to be mean to anyone. This was a young woman whose favorite movie was George of the Jungle.
“No, but the girls I call friends have been, and I should have said something.”
Maris shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. I don’t.”
Ariel placed a hand over hers. “What can we do to cheer you up?”
“I don’t think I can be cheered up…”
“How about some of my mom’s peach pie?”
“Oh, that’s a start!”
Twenty-Seven
Martha tapped her spoon against her coffee cup. “Something wrong, dear?”
“No.”
“I notice you’re no longer wearing your new clothes. I see we’ve dusted off old faithful.”
Clay glanced down at his brown suit.
“I like this suit.”
“It has a stain where Ariel spit up on it when she was two.”
Martha pointed an accusatory finger at his leg. Maris had teased him that the suit was last in fashion when dinosaurs still ruled the earth. He had protested that he liked it, and it was comfortable, but his case wasn’t really helped by the fact that the lining of both trouser pockets had holes, and also she had found a disintegrating movie stub for Jurassic Park in the jacket pocket.
“It was the first thing I saw this morning,” he lied.
Truthfully, he had agonized over what to wear. All his new suits had been lined up in his closet, raring to go. But wearing them reminded him too much of Maris, and how she had helped him pick them out. How she had accompanied him into the changing room and critiqued them while he just did whatever she said so he could steal kisses.