The Shifter Romances The Writer (Nocturne Falls Book 6)

by Kristen Painter

  His mother backed up, but the gold fire in her eyes hadn’t diminished. Her beast was wound up. “Where are you going?”

  “To take a shower.” He walked to his bedroom, closed the door and stripped down. A few moments later, he stood under the hot spray, letting the water beat on him and wishing he knew how to fix things between him and Roxy.

  Or at least, how to make the pain of losing her go away.

  Roxy wasn’t sure how many days had passed, but she knew it wasn’t enough to put a dent in the pain of betrayal and the awful humiliation she still felt. She couldn’t remember a time she’d hurt this much or felt this alone. Even marriage to Thomas hadn’t affected her this deeply. After all, she’d known before their first anniversary what a jerk he was. She’d expected the kind of treatment he gave her.

  But from Delaney and Alex? She’d been blindsided. She wasn’t sure which one of them had surprised her the most. Delaney had a lot to answer for because she was the reason Roxy had moved here. And Alex…she shook her head. They’d just agreed to be completely honest with each other, then she’d tried to seduce him, and he still hadn’t said anything about Nocturne Falls being a haven for the paranormal or that he was a were-cat and Delaney was a vampire.

  She paused on that thought. Was the paranormal real? Had they been telling her the truth? She was inclined to think they had been. Which was good, because it meant she wasn’t going crazy. But it also meant she had a lot to wrap her head around and she wasn’t even close to being there yet.

  What she had fully arrived at was being a hot mess. She knew that. She sniffed and tucked a few stray curls behind her ear. She’d been in the same pajamas for however long she’d been in the house. Hadn’t done a single sun salutation in days. Been living off whatever delivery this town had, which was mostly pizza, subs and Chinese. Fortunately, most of those things qualified as comfort foods. She’d even persuaded the pizza guy (with the promise of a big tip) to swing by the ice cream place and pick up a quart of Triple Chocolate Explosion, which was the most chocolaty ice cream they had, according to their website.

  But what was worse than how she looked or the direction her diet had taken was that her book was also a mess. She’d tried to write, but every scene ended up going horribly off the rails as her feelings slipped through. Her tale of undying love between two soul mates had turned into a mish-mash of angry diatribes and bitter betrayal.

  It would be career ending to turn something like that over to her readers, so she’d stopped trying. In fact, she was seriously thinking about postponing the book indefinitely. Or maybe writing something completely different. The only bright spot in the last few days had been that her divorce papers had finally arrived. Signed.

  She was a free woman. Also miserable, friendless and woefully behind on her deadline, but free. Maybe Alex had helped that along by scaring Thomas into it, so she might owe him a little credit there. But not enough to answer his calls or texts.

  Not yet.

  She opened the fridge, not really hungry so much as looking for a way to distract herself. The pickings were slim. Some old house lo mein, a container of wonton soup, half an Italian cold cut and a box that held a couple slices of veggie pizza. Veggie. Because even miserable, she’d been thinking about her weight. A little.

  “You are a sad, screwed-up woman, Roxy St. James.”

  Too bad she hadn’t been thinking about her weight when she’d polished off the flan Alex had brought over, or the large box of truffles Delaney had left behind. Both of which she’d eaten in bed while watching old black-and-white movies.

  Why hadn’t she been born in the age of old Hollywood? When times were simpler? She sighed and pulled out the box of pizza. She took out a slice, biting the point off the end. Heating it up took too much effort.

  Her doorbell chimed. She had no idea what package this was, but she’d been ordering stuff online constantly in an attempt to never have to leave the house again. Hopefully, this delivery was the thirty-two pack of toilet paper, because that was going to become a necessity pretty soon, and running into Delaney or Alex at the Shop-n-Save wasn’t something she wanted to risk. They would want to talk—they’d both been trying repeatedly since she’d made them leave. But she wasn’t at the talking stage. And wasn’t sure she ever would be.

  She shuffled to the door, thankful the UPS man had a drop-and-run policy, and opened it to collect her goods.

  A small woman with black hair and a bright, familiar smile stood there, holding a large covered dish. “Hello there.”

  “Hi.” If this was one of her neighbors coming to welcome her to the neighborhood, she really hoped that was a cake under that dome. Cake would be perfect right now. And actually, so would a little company that wasn’t Delaney or Alex.

  The woman lifted the dish. “I’m Carmen. I thought you might like some tres leches. Do you know what that is?”

  Roxy almost smiled. Almost. “Oh yeah, I know what tres leches is.” Her back teeth ached with the thought of all that gooey sweetness, and her soul cried out for the indulgence. She opened the door a little wider. “Come on in. I’m Roxy.”

  “Nice to meet you, Roxy.” The woman’s voice had a happy little lilt to it. “Are you sure I’m not interrupting something?”

  Roxy glanced down at her pajamas. “No, I, uh…I work from home, so these are sort of my work clothes. I wasn’t in bed or anything.” Although she could have been.

  “I see.” Carmen came in. “I understand you just moved in not too long ago?”

  “That’s right.” Roxy closed the door and walked with her to the kitchen, which wasn’t too much of a wreck thanks to eating so much takeout. “Do you live on this street?”

  Carmen’s smile faltered a tiny bit. “I live a little south of you. It’s very nice of you to invite me in and also unexpected. If I had known you were going to do that, I would have brought some coffee. But I suppose you have coffee. It’s just the thing with tres leches.”

  “I have plenty of coffee. Just the stuff you make in the machine, though. The stuff from the cups. Hard to drink a whole pot when you live alone.”

  Carmen nodded. “My son got me one of those fancy machines for my birthday last year. He’s such a good boy. I haven’t figured out how to use it yet.”

  Roxy laughed for the first time since that night. She took two mugs from the cabinet. “It’s not hard. Look, I’ll show you. You put the mug underneath, put the cup with the coffee in it in this part right here, then close the lid and hit Brew.”

  Carmen paid close attention, then clapped her hands when the coffee started coming out. “That’s so easy! I can do that. You’re a good teacher.”

  “There’s nothing to it, really.” Roxy handed her the second cup. “You make the next one.” While Carmen did that, Roxy got out small plates, two forks and a serving knife.

  Coffee made, Carmen uncovered the cake, cut two generous slices and added them to the plates.

  Roxy took one and her coffee to the kitchen table. Carmen followed. She sat across from Roxy and they both dug in.

  The sugary sweetness caused Roxy’s cheeks to ache in the best possible way. The cake was a flavor bomb of pudding-moist milky goodness. “Oh man, that is amazing. You’re welcome to bring this cake over anytime.”

  “I’m so glad you like it.” Carmen’s smile faded. “I have a confession to make. I never thought you’d invite me in. I was just going to bring you the cake, say hello, maybe talk to you a little, but now…”

  Roxy sat up a little straighter. “If I’m keeping you from something—”

  “It’s not that. It’s just…I feel like I’m not being truthful with you.”

  Roxy snorted. Must be a Nocturne Falls thing. “Why? What aren’t you being truthful about?”

  Carmen folded her hands together on the table, one on top of the other. “I’m not exactly your neighbor.”

  Roxy frowned. “Then who are you?”

  Carmen tried to smile again. “I’m Alex’s mother.”


  Roxy put her fork down, the cake tasteless in her mouth. Carmen. Of course. The woman she’d signed a book for. “Did he send you over here?”

  Carmen shook her head. “No, he’s in the shower. He has no idea I’m here. And he’ll be furious with me if he finds out. But when he told me what happened, I just had to come and talk to you. I knew if we could just have a chat, I could fix everything.”

  Roxy pushed the cake away. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

  “Please, Roxy, he’s a good boy. And he’s miserable that you won’t talk to him. I just hope you’ll give my son a second chance. He’s the best man I know.”

  “Too bad he didn’t think I’d be strong enough, or like him enough, or whatever enough, to handle the truth about what he is. He was afraid telling me would stress me to my breaking point.” Delaney was really more to blame for that, but Alex had hurt her in a different way. Because she’d thought they had something. Because they’d agreed to be truthful with each other. “He lied to me. After promising me we would be upfront about everything.”

  She crossed her arms and stared at his mother, almost challenging her to defend him. “I’m sorry, but accidentally finding out the guy you’re interested in has been holding back a major secret is no way to build a relationship.”

  “What?” Carmen scowled in disapproval. “You found out he was a shifter accidentally?”

  “Yes.” Roxy sighed. “But he was going to tell—”

  “Unacceptable.” Carmen’s eyes flashed gold. “My son knows better than that. I am not happy with him.”

  A pang of sympathy for Alex shot through Roxy. “It wasn’t entirely his fault. A friend of mine made him promise not to tell me.” Roxy exhaled and felt the fight—and the anger—go with it. Being this miserable was exhausting. She didn’t want to feel this way anymore. “She didn’t think I could handle it either.”

  Carmen sat for a moment. “Then you didn’t reject him because he’s a panther shifter?”

  “No.” Roxy leaned her elbows on the table. “But I’m not entirely sure what that means. In my fictional world, sure, but not in reality. Is he…not human?”

  Carmen huffed out a breath. “He should have told you all this.”

  “I think he tried. But I was too upset. I threw him and my friend out before they could really explain.”

  Carmen reached over and patted Roxy’s hand. “And you had every right. The truth about what we are isn’t something that can just be thrust upon a person. It has to be carefully explained.”

  “We?” Roxy leaned back. “Then you’re a were-cat too?”

  “I am. We all are in our family.” Carmen stood up and smoothed the front of her blouse. Then she took a step back, the air around her shimmering like she was about to combust, and a second later, a large black cat about the size of a Labrador retriever sat on the other side of Roxy’s dining room table.

  Roxy’s hands fell to her sides. She stared, mouth open.

  A second later, the cat turned into Carmen again. She ran a hand over her jet curls and carried on like nothing unusual had just happened. “You see? Nothing to be scared of. Same person. Just a different form.”

  Roxy nodded, not entirely sure what to say or how to react. It wasn’t every day someone brought you delicious cake, then turned into a panther right in front of you.

  Carmen took her seat at the table. “You know, my Alex has never told a human girlfriend that he’s a panther shifter. It’s not an easy thing for any of us to do. People are afraid of us. Or they treat us like animals. Or side-shows.”

  Roxy tried to imagine Alex’s side of things and what it would be like to reveal something so unbelievable about yourself.

  “You and Alex have only known each other a short time. I’m sure you have some things you haven’t told him yet.”

  “Yes, but being a shifter? That’s sort of a big detail to hold back.”

  “It is. I agree.” Carmen moved her fork around on the plate. She smiled but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Not once did I see Alex mope about a girl when he was a teenager. In fact, I’ve never seen my boy heartbroken before. But he is desperately heartbroken now.”

  Roxy swallowed. She knew the feeling.

  Carmen’s brows arched. “Remember when Marabella left Wolfgang because she thought he would be better off without her? The pain he was in? The way he suffered?”

  Roxy nodded. “I do.”

  “Alex is your Wolfgang. You’re his Marabella. Please talk to him. Let him explain. You can come over to the house and have dinner with us.”

  “I don’t know.”

  Carmen glanced over at the pizza box. “Homemade pork loin with rice and beans and sweet plantains.”

  Roxy’s stomach growled. She couldn’t avoid Alex forever. They lived next door after all. She glanced down at herself. “Okay. But not like this.”

  Alex finally got out of the shower, dried off, then threw on clean shorts and went back to the kitchen to apologize for being short with his mother. He knew she only wanted to help, and she only wanted to do that because she loved him.

  But his mother wasn’t in the kitchen. Nor was she on the back porch. Or getting anything out of her car. She wasn’t anywhere that he could see. He checked the counter for a note, but there wasn’t one.

  It wasn’t like her to walk away from a full oven.

  He went to the bedroom to grab his cell phone and check to see if she’d texted. He was just unlocking the screen when he heard the front door open.

  “Alex, are you decent? We have company for dinner.”

  Had she gone to Diego’s? That was impossible. She hadn’t had enough time. Alex had been in the shower a long while, but not enough for her to go to Diego’s and back. She could have called him, though. And Diego could have driven over.

  She must have been outside somewhere waiting for him. Alex walked down the hall to see if Diego was going to get any grief over his new girlfriend or if that was just reserved for—Alex stopped as he entered the living room.

  Roxy stood in the foyer with his mother. Her hair was damp and twisted into a loose bun, a few tendrils springing out around her face. She wore another pretty sundress like the night she’d come over to have dinner with him and sit in the hot tub. “Hi.” There was no smile, but there was no indication she was unhappy either.

  “Hi,” he said back. A thread of hope unwound in him.

  She didn’t quite make eye contact. “Your mother brought me cake. And then she turned into a were-cat in my dining room.”

  “Panther shifter,” Alex and his mother responded in unison.

  “Panther shifter,” Roxy corrected. “I’m not here because everything is automatically forgiven. We need to talk. But your mom promised me a home-cooked dinner and I’ve had a lot of takeout lately. I hope that’s okay.”

  “That’s very okay.” He took back every grumpy thought he’d ever had about his mother. Who was currently giving him a look he knew very well. She wasn’t happy with him.

  “Alex, go put a shirt on.”

  “In a second, Mom.”

  Before she could say anything else, she threw her hands in the air. “My pork loin!” She rushed into the kitchen, leaving Alex alone with the most perfect woman in the world. He took a few steps toward her. “I’m really glad you came, and I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

  She bit her lip. “Me, too. We have a lot to talk about.”

  He nodded. “I’m all answers. Whenever you’re ready.”

  “Not over dinner. Not in front of your mom.”

  “Understood. Thank you for coming.”

  She shrugged. “Your mother’s pretty hard to say no to.”

  He smiled. “Welcome to my life.”

  The little half-smile he got in response was perfect. “You really should go put a shirt on. It’s very distracting looking at all…” She waved her hands at him. “This.”

  “In a second.” The thread of hope unwound a little more, buoyed by he
r presence. Things weren’t back to normal by any means, but at least he and Roxy were speaking again. He took another step toward her. She smelled like flowers and soap. It was a good smell. He lowered his voice. “But first, I have to tell you that you’re one of the strongest people I know. You made your own success and you left a man who didn’t treat you right. That takes guts. I will never underestimate you again. And I don’t blame you for being mad at me. I was an idiot.

  She sighed and nodded. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

  He lifted a finger. “Shirt.”

  He raced to his room, grabbed the first clean T-shirt he saw and dragged it over his head. Then he returned to her, so wishing he could touch her cheek or take her hand or make contact with her somehow, but that was too much to ask of her in this moment. “Do you think we could talk now? At least enough to make you comfortable? We could go sit on the back porch. Have a drink. My mother brought sangria.”

  She glanced toward the rear sliders, then nodded. “Okay.”

  That single word sent a new burst of happiness through him. “Great. C’mon.” He headed for the porch, opening the slider to let her through. Then he went to the fridge, pulled out the sangria and a fresh beer for himself, and poured Roxy a glass of the fruity wine his mother loved so much. “Mom, we’ll be outside. Call us when dinner’s ready.”

  She wiped her hands on a towel and smiled at him. “You take all the time you need.”

  “Thank you.” He hesitated. “For everything.”

  She lifted her chin proudly. “No one can resist my tres leches.”

  He winked at her. “I’m sure that’s what it was.” He slipped outside and closed the slider with his elbow, minding the drinks in his hands.

  Roxy was sitting on the love seat that faced the yard. She seemed pensive. A mood he well understood.

  He took the chair next to the love seat, handing her the glass of sangria as he sat. “This is my mother’s version. Fair warning, she spikes it with more brandy than is actually called for.”