by Zoe Chant
“Do you like it?”
Pauline hesitated. “Some days. I like seeing all the different kinds of people who come and go, and I like that Oliver’s is still a hub for the locals. I like my co-workers. Being on my feet all day is hard, and sometimes it’s tough to smile and give good customer service when you’re not feeling it.”
Carlos nodded. “Did you ever have a dream job?”
Pauline sighed. “A mother.”
Carlos reached out, and after a second, Pauline gave him her hand. He squeezed it, and for just a moment, Pauline felt like she could just let go, cry about it like she hadn’t in years—certainly not in front of anyone else.
But they were in public, so instead she breathed, blinked, and focused on the feel of his warm, rough hand against hers.
They sat together for a long minute. Carlos didn’t try to say anything, just held her hand, and somehow it was better than anyone’s placating words had ever been.
***
Pauline was amazed at how much of a rich asshole Carlos wasn’t.
Gary had loved the sound of his own voice—which had been great when they were teenagers, and Pauline loved it too. He was funny and smart, liked to read and talk about what he’d read, and she’d always enjoyed listening to what he had to say, what he’d learned and thought about.
It had taken her a long, long time to realize that Gary was not, actually, that interested in what Pauline thought. He enjoyed telling her things, correcting her when she was mistaken, and having her ask him questions, but he’d never quite managed to care about her opinion. Certainly not as much as he cared about his own.
Carlos, on the other hand—
Carlos asked her what she wanted to order, and got that for both of them. Carlos wanted to know about her life, her experiences, her wants.
And as they were leaving the restaurant, Carlos let out a breath, looked around at the moonlit forest stretching out from the parking lot, and asked, “So what do you think I should do with my life?”
“Me?” Pauline asked, half-laughing. “Why should I know what you want to do?”
“It’s not about what I want to do,” Carlos said, with a thoughtful line between his brows. “Or, rather, I don’t know what I want to do. So I’ve graduated to asking smart people what they think.”
Smart. Who had ever called her smart? Not Gary, that was for absolute sure.
“I think,” Pauline said slowly, “that you should find a way to—to help people while connecting with them.”
“How do you mean?”
Pauline tried to unpack what she was thinking. “You have a lot of money, right?” Then she heard herself and had to backpedal. “Sorry—that was rude—”
“No, no,” Carlos said firmly. “You’re right. I have a lot of money. More than I know what to do with, and it’s all invested in a way that’s making me more money without me even doing anything. It’s all a bit excessive.”
Pauline laughed a little at that. “Okay. So, you could just give your money away to charity, and that would be helping people. But I don’t think that that would be fulfilling for you. And it probably wouldn’t take up much of your time.”
“You’d be surprised,” Carlos murmured, but he motioned for her to keep going.
“So I think,” Pauline said firmly, “that you should find some project that takes a lot of money, but also needs you to be there on the ground, with the people that it’s helping. That way you can see what you’re doing, make a community, and so it’ll help you as much as it helps them.”
“That sounds perfect,” Carlos said quietly. “Any ideas for candidates?”
Pauline shook her head. “I think that’s the sort of thing you have to figure out for yourself.”
“I suppose you’re right.” They’d reached their cars.
“And make it somewhere you can shift and run,” Pauline added sternly. “It sounds like you’ve gone far, far too long without being able to do that.”
Carlos laughed. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right.” And he reached out to cup her cheek.
Pauline stilled, her breath caught in her chest, her entire body focused on the place where his hand touched her skin.
If she’d thought that feeling his hand against hers was profound, well—her entire body thrilled at this touch.
He leaned in, slowly, as if to give her time to object. Pauline wanted to do anything in the world but object.
Carlos’ kiss was soft at first, his lips warm against hers, his thumb slowly caressing her cheekbone. Pauline kissed back, their mouths moving gently together. A spark lit in her chest.
Then Carlos caught her up with his other arm, pulling her against him, and the spark fanned into a flame.
His body was huge, hard and strong against hers. Warm and solid, like she could just press herself against him and let go, and he’d hold her up and keep her safe.
He teased her tongue with his, drawing her out, and she found herself leaning into the kiss, opening her mouth and tasting him. Her arms went up around his neck, one of her hands threading through his thick dark hair.
A passion was awakening inside her, something she hadn’t felt in years. She wanted to get her hands inside his clothes, feel all that hard muscle, see what he looked like naked. Have him strip her naked, put those big hands all over her body—
Pauline tore away with a gasp. Her eyes were wide and shocked, she knew, staring up at him like he’d appeared from nowhere, a sexy apparition.
He stayed very still. “Too much?” he asked softly.
Pauline realized that she was panting, catching her breath. She closed her mouth. “A...little,” she admitted, feeling shamefaced.
A rich city guy like him probably dated all sorts of wild, sex-positive women, right? Women who knew what they wanted and grabbed it on the first date. Women who knew tons of crazy positions and had a collection of toys in their nightstand.
And here was Pauline, scared shy after one street-appropriate kiss.
But Carlos didn’t look disappointed. And he said, “Then we stop.”
“I don’t—I’m not—” Pauline said, hearing how confused she sounded. She wanted some way to communicate, I’m not a prude, I promise, without sounding defensive and childish, and it wasn’t there.
“Hey.” Carlos reached out, and after a second, Pauline took his hand. He held it softly, his thumb running over the knuckles in a way that made her breath catch. “You shouldn’t feel obligated to do anything you don’t want. I definitely wouldn’t want to do anything that we weren’t both totally on board with. Okay?”
Pauline took a deep breath. “Okay.”
“Can I see you again?”
She should say no. She was already completely out of her depth, and falling fast. If they went out again, she was afraid she’d be half in love with the man. “Yes.”
His smile was a gift. “Good.”
***
Then, of course, it was time to fulfill her promise to herself.
She went home first, and then shifted and flew out to the kids’ house in her owl form, wanting to be as discreet as possible.
The woods were bright to her owl eyes, but she knew that in her human form, they’d be a black mass, almost entirely unlit. The thought of three kids living on their own out here made her heart ache.
Before she reached the house, though, she spotted headlights.
She dipped down immediately—was Drew going somewhere?
But no, it wasn’t Marsha’s car. It was a truck, a beat-up old truck that she didn’t recognize. She didn’t recognize the man at the wheel, either, even though her owl eyes picked out his features without any difficulty in the darkness.
The truck was turning out of the driveway to the house. There was nowhere else this man could’ve gone.
Pauline hesitated—and then hurled herself forward as quickly as she could, flying like mad to get to the house. She just wanted to see—
The house was fine. Quiet. A quick circuit of it sho
wed that the two younger kids were asleep in bed, and Drew was sitting at the kitchen table, staring at his hands.
What had that man been doing there?
Well, Pauline was aiming to find out. She wheeled around and flew as fast as she could back towards town. Fortunately, she didn’t have to follow the roads, so—guessing that the truck was going back to town and not further off into the woods—she cut over the forest in the hopes of catching up.
The shortcut worked. Scanning the roads from high up in the air, she caught sight of the old truck up ahead, just about to hit a winding, bumpy patch that went over a hill. Pauline didn’t have to care about the hill, the bumps, or the winding, so at last she was able to catch up.
She stayed even with the truck from then on, as high up as she could manage, so he didn’t catch sight of her pacing him and get suspicious. It was always best to assume, in this town, that everyone knew about shifters and that any suspicious behavior in an animal would be marked and responded to as though it were a human.
Eventually, on the other side of town, the truck pulled into a driveway. Pauline frowned. Whose house was that?
She spiraled down and landed in a tree outside one of the windows. It was open, and she could hear male voices from the inside. A second later, the door opened, and another voice joined the crowd.
“Well?” demanded a harsh voice. Pauline recognized it, and it chilled her. That was Ryan, the leader of a wolf pack a town or two over. Stella’s ex-boyfriend Todd had been part of the pack before his arrest, and from what Pauline knew, they were up to no good.
Were they trying to expand out here? Hadn’t the way Todd had been humiliated, defeated, and locked up taught them a lesson?
But maybe it hadn’t. Maybe it had only made them mad.
“He’ll do it,” said another voice. The man who had just come in? Pauline thought so. The background conversation was otherwise still going on.
“Good,” said the harsh voice, sounding satisfied. “And you made it clear what would happen to him if he punked out?”
“Sure did,” said the newcomer. “He’s not going to be straying one step out of line. Not if he cares about what happens to those two little babies he’s taking care of.”
They all laughed.
Pauline’s wings felt frozen. Her feet were locked in place, clutching the branch she stood on.
What had Drew gotten into?
It had to be something criminal. The threats made that clear. Maybe drugs. Or something even more illegal.
He was trying to find a way to provide for his siblings, she knew. And maybe this was the only way he could see.
Why hadn’t she acted earlier? Drew always insisted he was fine, taking after his mother, but she could have insisted. She could have made him let her do—something. Give him money. She didn’t have much of anything left over from her parents’ medical expenses, but she could’ve gotten a loan or something, enough to cover the cost of whatever this was going to get him.
Right?
Maybe.
If only she’d taken action sooner.
Shaking herself, she forced her wings to work. The air felt freezing around her as she took off.
What was she going to do?
***
The question echoed through her mind all night, invading her dreams and interrupting her sleep.
In the morning, though, she had an answer. It wasn’t a very good answer, but it was all she had.
She needed to get help.
Pauline couldn’t stand up to a bunch of criminal wolf drug dealer gang members all on her own. She was just a waitress. She couldn’t use any weapons. And her shifter form wasn’t strong enough to take on even one wolf, let alone a pack.
Well. She could probably claw the eyes out of one wolf. She could even think of a very suitable candidate.
But no. She needed more than just her claws.
Just then, her phone buzzed. She frowned—who would be texting her this early in the morning?
When she picked it up, though, a warm flush spread through her body. It was Carlos.
Thinking of you this morning, it said. How are you?
Pauline realized she was just...staring at her phone and blushing, as though someone could be looking through it and see her all aflutter like a teenager over a cute boy.
She shook herself. She needed to focus. She had a real problem to solve.
And she needed some help.
And Carlos had helped with Stella’s stalker, hadn’t he?
No. Carlos was here on vacation. He wanted to take her to silly fusion restaurants and watch the sun set over the mountains, not tackle a possibly-insurmountable problem involving motherless children, hostile wolves, and...drugs or stolen goods or whatever it was.
But as Pauline stared at her phone, she realized that this might be her best option.
At the very least, she should go to Nate. He was an actual security specialist. He’d know what to do.
But there was no way to go to Nate without also talking to Carlos. At least—no way that didn’t immediately devolve into a comedy of errors. Pauline pictured trying to secretly plan to take down a wolf pack with Nate while smiling innocently through dates with Carlos, and let go of the idea with a snort. Nope.
So maybe this was more important than what Carlos wanted. And what she wanted from him. Because the more she thought about it, the more she realized that this was the best solution. She didn’t want to go to the sheriff until she could be sure that Drew hadn’t done anything he might be arrested for, and she didn’t know any other people who were both capable enough to deal with a group of shifter criminals and kindhearted enough to want to help a desperate seventeen-year-old boy.
So she bit her lip and texted back, Struggling with a problem. Maybe you can help me?
This was the death knell for their fun dating, and she let herself mourn it just for a second. Maybe Carlos would even think that she’d only gone out with him to try to get into his good graces so he’d help her.
She hoped not. But...as long as he did help her, that was the most important thing. She couldn’t focus on a few fun dates with a man she’d just met when kids’ safety was at risk, for God’s sake.
The text came back instantly, as she’d known it would somehow. Of course. Want to meet up and tell me about it?
***
Carlos
Carlos was surprised at how happy he was to hear that Pauline had a difficult problem.
Wait, that wasn’t the right way to think about it. He wasn’t at all happy that Pauline was struggling—in an ideal world, he thought, Pauline would be blissfully happy all the time. She seemed like the type of kind, hardworking woman that deserved it.
And being the cause of that blissful happiness sounded pretty good to him, too.
Which brought him around to the problem again. He was suddenly presented with an opportunity to help Pauline with something important, and he was realizing...he wanted that. He wanted to get involved, to solve her problem for her—or with her, at least—and to see that sweet smile on her face when it was over.
“What’s up with you?” Ken asked as he came into the kitchen. “You’re looking at your phone like Siri suddenly developed independent intelligence or something.”
“How soon did you know you wanted to be with Lynn permanently?”
The words seemed to just fall out of his mouth without any input from his higher brain functions. He had to fight a flush off of his cheeks—fortunately, his skin was too dark to really show it. He straightened his back and met Ken’s eyes, refusing to back down.
Ken’s head cocked to the side, and he gave Carlos a penetrating look. “Huh. It wasn’t instantaneous, exactly—I felt, I don’t know, drawn to her from the second I saw her, but my brain didn’t catch up to the truth until we’d spent a little time together.” He raised his eyebrows. “Why do you ask?”
“Gathering data,” Carlos said blandly.
“Gathering data, he says,” Ken muttere
d. “All right. This data wouldn’t happen to work at Oliver’s, would it?”
“None of your business.”
Ken grinned, not put off for a second by Carlos’ threatening tone. “Sure it isn’t. I’ll just be over here spectating, then.”
Carlos had to roll his eyes. Ken was mellower these days than he had been back in the Marines, more mature, but he still had that irreverent spirit. Probably he’d have it even when he was ninety.
His phone buzzed. Pauline was asking, Can you meet me at Oliver’s after my shift? I work until 3 today.
See you there. I promise I’ll do whatever I can to help, he texted back.
He stared down at the words after he sent them. That was the sort of thing a person should never say in the business world. An open-ended promise to do whatever he could? That would just open you up for exploitation. And in a situation where he didn’t even know what he was committing to—it was downright stupid.
But he didn’t regret it. He didn’t feel a single hint of worry about what Pauline might be asking him to do. If it was something she thought was important, he trusted that it was something that needed to get done.
He’d never felt this certain about another person in his life.
And it was starting to wake up a tiny, niggling suspicion in his mind.
***
Pauline
Carlos, good as his word, was at Oliver’s by 2:30, sipping coffee in a booth and giving Pauline a reassuring smile when she glanced nervously over. For once, he wasn’t wearing a fancy suit: he’d managed to dig up jeans and a plaid shirt from somewhere.
It made him look less imposing, but no less attractive—it was a lot easier to imagine getting her hands inside that shirt than one of his crisp, expensive suit jackets.
Pauline didn’t want to draw him into her problems. She wanted to keep him a fun, exciting fantasy, sexy and rich and somehow interested in her.
But really, even their date hadn’t been like a fantasy at all. It had been lovely, and outside of her normal activities for sure, but...they’d talked about real, serious things. Carlos had wanted to know about her life, her problems, and had told her some about his own in return.