by Reina Torres
“I’m sure Cage will relax a bit once we get things sorted out.”
“We?” Willa’s pointed look made Maggie squirm the littlest bit in her chair.
“I’ve known Cage since I was a teen. And most of my father’s men settled here in Sylvan City near him. So, it’s kind of like having an extended family.” She nodded her head, probably a little too much, and then managed to swallow the lump in her throat. “So, yeah. We. See?”
The Waylands shared a look between them and then turned back to Maggie with matching grins. “Right,” Boone agreed.
And then Willa added, “Absolutely.”
Maggie felt all the color drain from her face. Was she that transparent?
Like a miracle, Willa took pity on her. “So, let’s talk menus.”
“Yes,” Maggie’s shoulder sagged in relief, “let’s.”
It took three days for everything to settle into a schedule that worked for everyone. Between school and her work in the diner, Frances was having just as many successes as she was challenges, but it was the challenges that seemed to have more of an effect on her moods.
Slamming down a tray in the kitchen, Frances let loose a string of profanities that would have made Maggie’s father blush.
And Maggie didn’t have to look out at the tables to know that the men in the diner heard what she’d said. Luckily, none of them were going to gasp and grab for their pearls, they were likely still shoveling down their meals before they had to get back to work.
“What’s wrong?” Maggie still hadn’t figure out how to read the teen.
“What isn’t wrong?” Frances snapped up a rag to wipe the tray she’d just smacked down on the counter. “I hate my school, I hate the stupid people there. They make fun of everything about me. My hair, my accent, the way that I dress, how stupid I am. I hate going there and I have two more years of it.”
She was wiping the tray so hard with the rag, Maggie was fairly sure there would only be threads left when she was finished.
Before Maggie could say something, Frances added one more irritating fact of her life.
“More if I cock-up another of my classes.” Turning, Frances leaned against the counter as she kept punishing the tray. “How did you get through it?”
Maggie winced. She flipped a grilled cheese sandwich on the flat-top and gave it a good press with her spatula. “All the wrong ways at first. My mom walked out on us when I was a little girl. She didn’t like the life of a military wife and liked being a mom even less. And I didn’t have a choice to keep my dad from flying off to parts unknown on his missions, but when I was a few years younger than you are now. It really hit home. I was a girl with a constant stream of nannies and housekeepers that were more like drill sergeants than parents.” She picked up a plate off the shelf above the stove top and set it down beside her.
Out of the side of her eye she saw Frances automatically reach for a bowl off another shelf and grab the ladle for the chili pot.
“I thought, and I have no idea why, that the worse I did in school, the more horrible my behavior was, it would force my dad to come home and deal with me.” She shook her head and her laughter seemed harsh and dry to her own ears. “It worked at first, when he was home for that first year, but then when he was assigned to lead the unit that Cage was in, they were gone out of the country for months on end, and at some point, I realized that what I was doing to hurt him was only hurting me… and my relationship with my dad.”
Maggie put the grilled cheese on the plate and handed it all over to Frances who set the bowl of chili on the other side and took it out into the dining area. The warehouse worker that got it looked up and smiled.
“Thanks.”
Frances froze for a second and Maggie wondered if she was just realizing what she’d done all on her own. Wiping her palms on her apron, Frances nodded and took a step backwards. “You’re welcome.”
When the young girl was back in the kitchen, Maggie gave her a smile. “You okay?”
Frances didn’t make a sound. She just picked up the pan she’d been wiping before and took it over to the sink for a wash.
She wanted to say something more to the girl, but the bell sounded over the door and Maggie headed in that direction. “I’ve got it.”
The man that came through the door looked more like a wall than a man, but the smile he offered her was easy and genuine. “You Cage’s girl?”
Maggie gestured toward the kitchen. “Frances is in the kitchen.”
“I know who Frances is.” The wall leaned forward and looked her square in the face. “But I can see that I was wrong too. You’re not his girl, you’re his woman.”
He took the menu out of her slack hands and grabbed a seat at an empty table. “Coffee, please.”
Maggie managed to answer him. “Coffee, coming right up.”
Coffee was easy enough to serve up, but as she poured the cup, she heard Frances behind her whispering. “That’s Truck. He works for Cage.”
“Oh,” was Maggie’s only reply.
“Sounds like he’s been talking about you at work as much as he does at home.”
Well that was a revelation. Maggie saw Truck’s little smile as he sat at the table and she was tempted to remind Frances that as a shifter Truck could easily hear her whispered comments, but shifter or not, Frances was a teenage girl. Whispering gossip was a necessary skill.
“You want me to take his order, Maggie?”
Trying not to react to the shock of Frances volunteering for the work, she shrugged and smiled back at her. “Sure! Thanks.”
The rest of the afternoon continued on much in the same vein, and as they went along, Frances would ask her questions about her life, and in turn Frances revealed little bits and pieces of her own.
By the time Cage came in for dinner, Maggie was beginning to feel like she had things under control.
That was until her teenage crush and adult fantasy walked in with his hair still damp from a shower and his shirt sticking to his shoulders.
And what shoulders they were.
As if it wasn’t completely embarrassing to be caught staring at him in the center of her diner. “Hey, Cage.”
He walked up until he was just a few inches away from her, lifting his chin he looked right into her eyes and made her melt with just that look. She swore she could read longing in his eyes. Deep in the darkness of his gaze she felt another consciousness looking out at her. And when he reached out a hand and touched her arm she felt his power crackle and jump from his skin to hers.
“I’ve missed you, Maggie.”
She took in a quick breath and struggled to make her voice sound even. “I saw you this morning.”
His smile was slow and when his lip lifted she could swear she could almost see a fang just beneath the edge of his lip. “Still,” his indrawn breath made her skin tingle with anticipation, “I missed you. Don’t you?”
“Hmm?” She was lost in his eyes and confused by the way she wanted to lean forward and fall into his arms.
“Don’t you… miss me, Maggie?”
The ache inside of her said hell yes.
The frightened woman inside of her wanted to take a few steps back.
But the woman she’d become after so many years fighting the dark side of her mind, was ready to step off the cliff and plunge into the depths.
“Yeah,” she lifted her free hand and touched it to the side of his face, “I missed you, Cage.”
She felt his hand tighten around her arm and every other inch of her skin felt hot and tight. If that’s what he could do with just a touch-
“I need to spend some time with you tonight, Maggie. I need to hold you before I lose my mind.”
Well, what could she say to that?
She opened her mouth and then swept her tongue over her lips to ease the sting, and that’s where his gaze flickered to before he looked back up into her eyes.
“I, um, -”
“Hey, Cage!” Frances’s voice broke th
rough Maggie’s haze. “You’ve got to try the meatloaf!”
Maggie stepped away and smiled at her helper. Leaning closer to Cage, she told him, “Frances made it herself.”
Frances stopped just shy of the counter. “Why is your face twisted up like that?”
Turning toward Cage, she saw that Frances’ comment was true. Cage’s face looked ashen.
“When it was meatloaf night at the mess, I opted for extra duty. I couldn’t stomach the grey bricks of whatever it was they were trying to serve us. Paulie’s weren’t that much better.”
“But this is my recipe for meatloaf and Frances made it, so I’m telling you right now, Cage, you better sit down and try some or there’s no pie in your future.”
She saw his wary look but when he saw Frances he put a smile on his face. “I’m game.”
Frances set down the 9x9 baking pan and lifted the spatula like a rapier. “Be prepared to be amazed!”
She set out a large square on each plate beside the mashed potatoes and the corn on the cob. “Go ahead,” she told them both, “have a seat and taste it.”
Maggie felt a little sympathy when she saw the green under his normally tanned complexion. Picking up his fork, she picked up a good-sized bite and told him to open up.
She thought he’d balk at the request, but he surprised her. “Promise me that you’ll let me come to your apartment tonight? Let me hold you in my arms.”
She lifted the forkful of meatloaf closer to his lips. “You eat this like a good daddy shifter and I’ll let you do more than hold me.”
The bite of food disappeared into his mouth and he chewed with a singular determination that would have made her laugh if it wasn’t for the remnants of fear in his eyes.
“Well?” Frances was back in the doorway, holding a pitcher of water and a stack of glasses. “What do you think?”
Maggie could tell the very moment that the food actually touched his tongue. Fear turned to confusion and melted into pleasure.
He swallowed the first bite and looked over at Frances. “It’s really good.”
Beaming, the young woman set down the cups and poured water for all of them. “I was gobsmacked when I had my first taste too. Make sure you eat up.” She gasped in surprise. “Napkins!” She disappeared back into the kitchen leaving them alone for a bit.
“And I,” he leaned closer and pressed a slow kiss on her lips, “am going to eat up tonight, too.”
When Maggie sank onto the stool, it was only because she wasn’t sure her legs would hold her up any longer.
Chapter Six
When the knock sounded at his front door, Cage was on his feet in a moment, pacing toward the door. He drew in a breath and told his jaguar to back off before he could even put a hand on the doorknob. He could smell tiger on the other side of the door.
And even though he knew who it was, the primal side of his nature didn’t like it one little bit. An adult male tiger near his cub? A tiger literally standing between him and his mate?
His jaguar wanted blood first and then calm later, but Cage wasn’t going to let it happen. Pulling open the door he managed to keep his smile friendly and fang-free. “Paige, Devlin, good to see you both.” Cage looked over his shoulder and saw Frances standing in the doorway studiously drawing in each breath. Turning back to his friends he opened the door wider. “Come on in.”
Paige preceded Devlin, which spoke volumes. The fact that the tiger didn’t prowl the rooms first told him that he was a trusted friend. And Cage was inordinately proud of that fact.
“This is Frances Billings.” He held out his hand and gestured for her to move closer, but his foster daughter stood still in the doorway, still trying to breathe.
Breaking the impasse, Paige crossed the room and stepped up beside Frances in the doorway. She gently set a hand on her shoulder and gave her a sweet smile.
Cage felt his breath trapped in his chest and knew without looking that Devlin was doing the same. The room was filled with shifters and the only one still human and all the more vulnerable for it, was Paige.
“Hi, Frances. I’m glad that we had the chance to meet. Cage was telling me that you’re having some troubles with your studies.”
The look Frances sent him was hard enough to strip paint from the wall, but it changed to a look of resignation when she spoke to him halfway across the room. “You were serious about this tutor thing?”
“You thought I was joking?”
Frances shrugged. “I was holding onto a desperate dream that you’d let me just drop out and work.”
It was Devlin’s turn to laugh. “If there’s one thing I’ve gotten to know about Cage, it’s that he’s deadly serious about keeping his word.”
“And you don’t have to work with me if you don’t want to,” Paige assured her. “I manage a student tutoring and mentorship program where adults sign up to help students.”
“Even for shifters?” Frances sounded like she couldn’t quite believe the words.
“Humans and shifters can both give and get help from the program.”
Her narrowed eyes glowing a golden-yellow, Frances backed away from Paige with a growl in her throat.
“Frances?” Paige took a step toward her and both Devlin and Cage called out warnings.
Devlin was across the room in a heartbeat, putting himself between the young shifter and his mate. Cage did much of the same, except he was facing Frances, his eyes boring into hers. He wasn’t a lion, but he was a cat and there was something in the way their animals saw each other that worked between the two of them. It might have worked with Devlin too, but he wasn’t taking any chances. He knew Frances and she was his responsibility. “Frances, stop.”
He felt the twist and flex of muscles under her skin. Smelled the air of the Savannah on her breath. Felt her anger like a growl rolling through her body even though she remained quiet.
“Pull it back, Frances. Pull. It. Back.”
She tried to tug her arm out of his hold one more time, but he could feel how weak it was, barely any energy in her movements at all.
And when her lioness laid down inside of her, gave up her push to be released, Cage pulled Frances into his arms and gave her a tight hug, trying to lend her his strength.
When she leaned forward into his embrace, her forehead falling on his shoulder he smoothed his hand over her back and took a few breaths with her.
“Cage?” Paige’s voice rang in his ears and he could tell with just that gentle question that she wasn’t afraid. He could hear the worry in her tone. “Should we go?”
He started to mull over his answer, but Frances beat him to it.
“Wait.” Lifting her head, she bit at her lips while he composed her thought and then spoke. “I’m sorry.”
Paige stepped out of Devlin’s embrace and moved closer to Frances. “I wasn’t trying to make you upset. If I did-”
“It was me,” Frances countered, “It was all me. I just couldn’t believe what you were saying.”
Cage didn’t try to hold her at his side, he needed to give her some space.
Frances continued. “Before Cage came to get me in England, my mother’s family was contacted by Social Services and asked if they’d like to take care of me until Cage could travel all the way across the Atlantic. Suffice to say, they didn’t want the responsibility. When my Mum married my Dad, her family told her she’d be on her own. Richard the Lionhearted may be a well-loved King in England’s past but bringing a real lion into the family made my Mum’s family beyond livid.
“They told her she was cut off from them. They wanted nothing to do with her because of her choices, but Social Services didn’t know that, and when the door opened for the meeting to see about temporary custody, only the family’s solicitor arrived. He had a document giving him Power of Attorney for my grandmother. And moments later he signed a document stating that the family didn’t want to claim me, nor did they have any interest in caring for me, temporarily or permanently.” She looked u
p and met Paige’s eyes. “And here you stand telling me that strangers want to help me. People who don’t know who I am, or what I am, want to help me? It’s hard to accept.”
Cage’s heart squeezed tight in his chest. He had no idea that’s what she’d gone through before he arrived to take her in. How could her mother’s family act like that? Frances was an innocent child. If they blamed Todd’s wife for having her that was one thing, but why take it out on Frances? No wonder she’d been so upset.
With such a harsh rejection, he was going to have to work harder to get Frances to understand that he wasn’t going to turn her away, not ever.
“Paige?”
“Yes, Frances?”
Cage heard the gentle tone in Paige’s voice and knew she hadn’t taken any of Frances’ earlier comments to heart.
“Is the offer still open for help with my classes?”
Bless Paige for her big heart. She held out her hand and with halting steps, Frances crossed to her and took Paige’s hand in her own.
“We’ll find you help, Frances. We’ll make it work if you want it.”
Frances opened her mouth to speak and then closed it again. She slid a look over toward Cage but didn’t meet his eyes. When she turned back to Paige she shrugged. “I don’t know what I want. When I got to the States, all I wanted to do was turn around and go home. But I don’t have a home in England. And this,” she gestured at the apartment, “I wasn’t sure if he really wanted me here.”
“What?”
Cage spoke before he could stop himself. And then he regretted it when he saw Devlin’s warning look and the sadness in Paige’s eyes.
“Frances-”
She shook her head and Cage watched the flyaway ends of her emerald green hair settle about her chin. “You never asked for this,” she told him, “you probably didn’t even know that my dad planned to dump me on you. I can’t even believe you actually flew all the way to England to pick me up.”