by Dillon, Kym
“Smelled me?”
“Your scent. So powerful. Overwhelming. I was so attracted to you, instantaneously, and...well, you remember what happened. I was drawn to you in a way I’ve never been drawn to anyone before. I’ve had the sensation described to me, but I wasn’t prepared for it.”
“I felt it too,” Allie said quietly.
Now he looked at her. “You did?”
“It was strange, wasn’t it? It was like there was something in the air. And when you looked at me, I didn’t think I’d ever be able to look away.” She shivered slightly. “And I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since.”
“I didn’t know whether you’d be able to feel it,” Mark said. “I don’t know if that makes this better or worse.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I guess it makes it easier for you to believe me. Otherwise, this might sound like a bad pick-up line. If you hadn’t felt it for yourself, I mean.”
Allie nodded. “I definitely wouldn’t accuse you of making it up.”
“But, on the other hand...it might make it harder for you to leave.”
“Leave? I’m not leaving.”
“You have to.” His tone was suddenly rough. “You know what the Black Bear Clan does to people I care about.”
“Exactly. I know. So I’m prepared.” She shook her head. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily, Mark.”
“Allie, you’re not prepared to fight bears. Besides, when a shifter finds his mate...that’s permanent, Allie. That’s for life. We’re not going to date for a while and then move on from each other. Choosing me means choosing this world, this life. It means any children we might ever have would probably be shifters too. I don’t want that for you.”
“So what, you’ll just go find another mate?”
He shook his head. “No. I would never do that. You’re it for me.”
“This is so strange,” Allie whispered, her hand finding his in the dark. “I can still feel it. I can feel it right now.”
“What do you feel?” he asked. His voice was softer than she had ever heard it, and she could hear all the uncertainty and doubt behind his question.
“Need.” She swallowed. Her throat was suddenly dry. “I need to be closer to you. I need you…”
The moonlight was reflecting in his eyes, making silver orbs within the dark pools. “You can’t, Allie. This isn’t right for you. I couldn’t ask it of anyone, but especially not you.”
“Then why did you bring me out here to tell me about it?”
He was quiet, staring back at her. He seemed not to have an answer.
“You wanted me to know. Some part of you was hoping.”
“No,” he whispered unconvincingly.
She slid closer and laid one hand on his cheek, running her thumb along his jawline. “No one’s ever made me feel like you do, Mark. I feel like I just woke up.” Her other hand was working its way down the side of his hard torso toward his waist. She expected him to pull away at any moment, but he didn’t. He seemed as mesmerized by her as she had been by him, as though he was barely breathing. Because I’m his mate, she thought, feeling powerful, feeling more fully alive than she ever had. He wants me. More than anything. He wants me the way I want him.
This time it was Allie who initiated the kiss. As she pulled him to her, the two of them slid forward by unspoken agreement, leaving the platform, jumping the few feet to the ground, and she let the momentum of their short fall carry her onto her back, pulling him on top of her.
9
Allie awoke to the sounds of birds chittering. It was early dawn. The sky was gray and washed out, and the leaves overhead rustled in the breeze.
She was outside.
Suddenly, memories of the night before came rushing back to her. Peeling away Mark’s shirt as soon as they’d hit the ground, helping him undo the buttons of her own—she had been so desperate for skin-on-skin contact with him. The more clothes they’d removed, the more his resolve that she shouldn’t be a part of his world had weakened, until finally there had been nothing between them but hands and mouths.
Her mind replayed every touch of his hands on her. It was as if he’d been specifically designed to elicit a response from her, both emotionally and physically. In the end, they’d drifted off gripping each other tightly, holding on for dear life, breathing deeply. Allie didn’t remember falling asleep, but she must have done it within minutes.
She sat up and reached for her shirt, feeling self-conscious. This was very unlike her. Mark had high hedges, thank goodness, but to get so carried away in such a publicly visible place? Even as a teenager, Allie hadn’t been reckless like that.
He was sleeping now, his eyes fluttering slightly as if he was dreaming, and she wondered what he might be seeing. If she were still asleep, would she be in the dream too? Would their connection as mates have pulled her into his dream as it had before? Or was that not true of all dreams? She would have to ask.
Perhaps he sensed that she was awake, for he stirred and opened his eyes. “Good morning.”
She tossed him his pants and lifted her hips to pull on her own. “Good morning yourself.”
“That,” he said, “was not what I thought would happen when I went to your house last night.” He struggled into his own pants. “You’re so beautiful, Allie.”
She didn’t know what to say, so she rolled toward him and took his hand. Almost immediately she felt aroused again. Not being aroused around him was going to be almost impossible.
“Got plans today?” he asked, sitting up and shaking the leaves from his hair.
Just you. “No.”
“Then would you like to come downtown and see the shop where I work? I don’t do a lot of business anymore,” he said, “but it’s still a nice place.”
“Mark, I really need to work on your case—”
“Well, that’s part of why I’m asking. There’s something there you should see. Something that might help.”
“What is it?”
“Come with me, I’ll show you.”
She didn’t take much persuading. Allie had to admit, she was very eager to spend a day with Mark. It was either that, or spend the day away from him thinking about him every second, and it would be nice to see where he worked. “Should I go home and change?” she asked.
“No,” he said. “It’s an auto shop, you’re fine in your sweats.”
“What if you get a customer?”
He snorted a laugh. “That doesn’t happen anymore.” When he saw the look on her face, he pulled her close and kissed her. “If I get a customer, then you’re a lucky charm, and I don’t give a damn what you’re wearing.”
The auto shop turned out to be on First Avenue. It was a run-down building that looked older than Mark, and it had clearly seen better days. Vandals had smashed a couple of the windows, and Allie saw some graffiti on the front. “What does that say?” she asked, tilting her head back and forth and trying to decipher the unnecessarily elaborate writing.
“Probably something about how I’m a murderer and should die a torturous death,” Mark said, unlocking the main door.
It was horrible to hear him say such things, but if there was a twinge of pain in his voice, he quickly covered up as he ushered her through the door. “I used to live here,” he said, reaching over to flick on the lights.
“You lived in the auto shop?”
“No, not in the shop. I had—I still have—an apartment above it.”
“I thought you lived with your parents.” Allie tried to remember what her friends had told her about Mark’s situation. But then, they weren’t really reliable sources of information, were they? They had just been repeating town gossip.
“I didn’t live with them, but we were pretty close,” Mark said. “On the night they died, I had gone over there for dinner and family game night. We all had a lot of wine, so I decided to crash in my old bedroom rather than drive home. And then, in the middle of the night, I heard a s
cuffle…” he fell silent.
“That’s when you found them?” Allie said, trying to be gentle. She laid a hand on his arm.
He shook his head hard as if trying to dislodge an unpleasant memory. “I found him.”
“You saw the murderer?” she gasped.
“He’d shifted—well, of course he had. I only saw the bear form. But it was definitely a Black Bear. I chased him out of the room and called the police, but my parents were already...and I couldn’t tell them a bear had come into the living room and done it.”
“Of course you couldn’t,” Allie said softly, struck anew by the horror of his situation. She stepped closed to him and, as if on instinct, he put his arms around her and held on. For a moment they stood there, Allie rooting herself to the spot and trying to provide some stability for Mark, and feeling herself cling to him as the emotions of everything he’d been through washed over her.
The moment passed. They separated, but he kept hold of her hand. “Come upstairs,” he said. “I’ll show you the place.”
“And you mentioned you had something that might help us?”
“Well, maybe,” he said. “It’s proof, but I have records of my online chats leading up to that night. The police seized my home computer when they arrested me this time and I don’t have it back yet, but I was hoping they didn’t think of the work computer since business is so slow here anyway. And it looks like I was right.”
“What’s in the chats?”
“Nothing much, but that’s kind of the point,” he said. “At least, I was hoping it would be. You can see me acting normal, and not suddenly crazed like a guy who’s about to murder his parents would.”
Allie nodded. “It’s circumstantial, but the whole case against you is circumstantial. It might be enough to give me a compelling argument. Show me what you’ve got.
* * *
After Mark had printed out the chats for Allie, they went upstairs to the apartment. It was small and had the appearance of a place that had been vacated quickly and with little care—a few of his possessions lay strewn across the floor, and the furniture was all in place, since he hadn’t needed to bring furnishings to his parents’ house, but the cupboards stood open and empty and a fine layer of dust covered everything.
“I’ve thought about renting it out,” Mark said. “It would be a good source of income, since the garage isn’t doing much business.” He walked around the small space, flicking on lights as he went. “The trouble is, in a town this size, no one would rent the place once they heard about my reputation.”
It would make a reasonable business location, Allie thought. Small law offices often operated out of spaces like this. She decided to keep the thought to herself, though. Who knew whether Mark would want to rent to her even if she did decide to hang up her shingle?
Of course, she was going to have to find some way to earn a living if she was going to be staying in Cedar Rapids, and every moment spent with Mark left her feeling more and more certain that staying was what she wanted. Now that she had found her mate—was he her mate? Or was it only correct to say that she was his? Or both? She would have to ask. The fact that she had never felt a strong connection with anyone else she’d tried to date seemed obvious. She couldn’t believe she had ever convinced herself that the feelings she’d had for other guys had been in any way real. It was as if there had been nothing and no one before Mark. The depth of feeling was so incredibly incomparable.
They left the apartment, but neither of them felt like going home. Spotting a frozen yogurt shop in the distance, Allie suggested that they treat themselves to a snack before heading back.
Mark hesitated. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea to spend time downtown.”
“You’re afraid people will bother you?”
“I’m afraid people will bother you and I’ll be poor company spending the whole time growling at them.”
She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. “I’m not easily bothered by gossipers and I promise to keep you distracted.”
Mark wrapped his arms around her waist. “What did I ever do without you?”
“You waited. Waited for me to get here.”
“And here you are,” he murmured against her mouth before kissing her again. He was shockingly tender, and she sensed that he was trying to compensate for that first rough kiss at the police station. She would have to talk to him about it, she decided, and let him know she didn’t mind a little roughness every now and then. But, as he ran his hands slowly down her spine, making her shiver, Allie couldn’t help but think that this kind of kiss definitely had its place too.
10
Skoopz, the frozen yogurt place, was cute and trendy. A row of dispensers stood along the back wall, labeled with signs that seemed homemade and hand-drawn. A cute colored pencil drawing of a pumpkin had been laminated and taped over the pumpkin flavored yogurt tap, and a serviceable drawing of coffee beans and pistachios accompanied the taps to either side. For chocolate, the artist appeared to have run out of ideas and just drawn a brown candy bar. The cups in various sizes were stacked on a table nearby, and opposite them was a row of self-serve bins with toppings you could put on your yogurt.
“Pretty elaborate,” Mark said.
“You’ve never been here before?” she asked.
“They only opened this place six months ago,” he said.
After his parents had died, in other words. After he had been labeled murderer and an outcast by the town. He had never ventured here because he wouldn’t have felt welcome. Allie took him by the hand and marched over to the yogurt station. “I’m getting vanilla and coffee mixed,” she said. “What about you?”
He wrinkled his nose like he wasn’t interested in getting anything.
“Well, I know you’re not going to make me eat alone. So what kind of yogurt are you getting? Or should I pick for you?”
A bemused smile crossed his face. “You’re a bossy little thing.”
“I’m a prosecutor, Mark. It’s my job to bully people into doing things they don’t want to do.” She stepped closer to him and smiled. “I can even get a confession out of a hardened criminal in front of a jury. I’ll totally break him down.”
He stared, transfixed.
“I can also use my powers to convince you to eat something,” she said, and passed him a cup. “I know you’ve lost weight.”
“How do you know that? You just got into town a few days ago.”
“Your clothes.” She hooked a finger in his belt and pulled him closer. “They don’t fit. Unless you’ve been deliberately buying the wrong sizes.”
“I haven’t really been shopping since…” Mark looked down. “Well, you know. I wasn’t going anywhere, anyway. It didn’t seem important to update my wardrobe.”
Allie felt a sharp pang of empathy for his situation. When Mark’s parents had died, he’d let his own life end too. His business had died, and any social life he might have had was completely withered away. It must have been awful for him, she thought, to have to come to terms with the fact that he was no longer welcome in his community while at the same time trying to grieve such a monumental and horrific loss.
She watched him fill the cup she had forced into his hands with yogurt. He moved from tap to tap like a child, adding a little bit of each flavor, wanting to try them all. His zest for life wasn’t gone. Once she convinced the authorities that the case against him had no merit and got the charges dropped, they would be able to ease him back into a normal life. She smiled, thinking about it. For the first time since it had happened, she was actually glad she had lost her job in New York. It was good to make a fresh start here in Cedar Rapids. She would be around her family, once they returned from their vacation, and that would make a welcome change. And, of course, she would be with Mark.
Allie filled her own cup and joined Mark at the topping station. He was adding strawberries and peanuts to his concoction. She reached over him and spooned several heaps of gummi bears onto hers.
> He raised his eyebrows at her.
“What? I like bears,” she said, grinning, and wrapped her free arm around him. Even this amount of closeness was overwhelming. The feel of his body against hers was so intoxicating that it was hard not to drop her yogurt cup and strip away his shirt right there in the middle of the restaurant.
“Allie?”
Mark jerked away from her. Allie turned to face the voice.
Dani Lawrence was sitting at a table in the corner, a cup of coffee and a laptop in front of her. She was staring openly at Allie and Mark, as though she’d seen something scandalous.
“Hi, Dani,” Allie said, slightly hesitant. Behind her, Mark had gone absolutely still. “You remember Mark Harris, right?” As if she didn’t know. As if she didn’t know exactly what Dani was thinking right then, with her eyes narrowing and her fingers drumming on the tabletop. She was imagining what she would say to everybody, how she would pass the word that Allie James was involved with that murderer Mark Harris. Maybe Dani was even deciding how to spin it. Would she tell everyone that Allie was obviously too naive to have understood the kind of person Mark was? Would there be attempts by her old friends to “save” her from his influence? Or would they write her off, decide she was just as bad as he was and never speak to her again?
Allie didn’t care either way. Dani had always been a relentless gossip with a taste for cruel rumors. Let her say whatever she wanted. Right now, her biggest concern was the man behind her. Was she imagining that she could feel his mounting stress and anxiety? Was that part of the bond they shared as mates? Or were those simply her own feelings? She didn’t think so. She wasn’t upset by what Dani had seen, what Dani might say. Those feelings were coming from Mark.
Why was he so upset about it, though? He had always been the one to remind her that Dani was just trying to seem important when she said cruel things about people. When they were children, he had never let anything like that affect him. Yet now she could feel his barely restrained panic. What was wrong?