“That is, if I manage to charm the living daylights out of you and you agree to a second date,” he added with a grin. “How am I doing so far?”
Coral held up her hand. “Stop right there,” she said. “You are sending out extremely mixed messages. You were a rude jerk the first time I met you. Then you stood me up for breakfast. Now you’re being Mister Charm. What gives? There were women practically hurling themselves at you like heat seeking missiles back there at the auction. I know you’re not exactly hurting for female companionship.”
Flint’s grin stretched wider. “You’re very direct. I like that.”
Coral shrugged. “It’s a New York thing. We don’t sugarcoat things like you Southerners do.”
“Fair enough. I’m sending mixed messages because I’m here trying to concentrate on work and finish up a project in a timely fashion so I can get back to Seattle, and I wasn’t planning on any distractions. But ever since I met you, I can’t even think straight.”
He reached out and took her hand in his, and closed his hand around it. A wave of heat splashed over her, and she fought to keep from sucking in her breath. “And I know you feel it too.”
“I beg your pardon?” her voice came out in a squeak. Were her palms sweaty? His hands were so big. Was there a correlation between hand size and…no, she scolded herself. Stop thinking like that.
“I find you very attractive, and I wish I didn’t. Wow, that came out more honest than I meant it to. Okay, here’s the thing. First of all, you’re a reporter, and I guess I’ve just got a natural wariness of reporters. I like my privacy, I don’t like having people snoop through my affairs. Why are you looking at me like that?”
Coral shot him a skeptical look. “Hmm. So you have a guilty conscience, and something to hide.”
He threw up his hands in exasperation. “See? Typical reporter! Always looking for the worst-case scenario! Anyway, as I was saying…the other reason I’m trying to resist being attracted to you is because I’m not going to be in town for that long. On the other hand, I can’t stop thinking about you, and it’s making it hard for me to concentrate on work.”
“It is?” Coral was absurdly pleased to hear that.
“I’m just trying to be as honest as possible here. We’re two single adults. We’re attracted to each other. We could…”
Coral had to reign this in fast. She couldn’t have a casual relationship with a man who made her heart thud against her ribcage with his merest glance, and there was no chance of anything more than a summer fling. He was pretty much stating that up front. She’d end up with a broken heart, and he’d fly blithely home to Seattle and be dating some supermodel before Coral had time to down her first gallon of break-up ice cream.
“No,” Coral said firmly. “We couldn’t.”
Disappointment flashed across his features. “And why’s that?”
“I just got out of a long relationship, and I’m not ready to start dating yet,” she said, lying through her teeth.
“We could keep it casual if that’s what you wanted. I really would like to see you again.” His brown eyes looked so earnest.
“Let’s change the subject,” she said, blushing. “Tell me about why you came back to Blue Moon Junction. Why now, of all times?”
“Well, my parents aren’t getting any younger. My sister Rose and her husband are going to take over the business for them some day. My business in Seattle is set up so it’s running itself pretty smoothly, so now seemed like a good time to home and start on the expansion.”
Somehow, Coral felt like there was more to the story, but it was clear that was all he was going to tell her.
“And you can quote me on that,” he said.
“I will, although it’s an awfully dull quote.”
“Okay. People all over Central Florida have enjoyed Sweet Stuff’s delicious jams and honey for years now, and we decided it was high time to expand our operations so that people throughout the nation can share in the fun.”
“Well, now you just sound like an advertising brochure.”
“There’s just no pleasing you,” he said. Then he smiled devilishly. “Then again, I do love a challenge.”
He stared straight at her, and she nearly melted under his caramel gaze. She was suddenly, excruciatingly aware of each breath she took, of the rise and fall of her chest and her nipples straining against the fabric of her bra. She stared back at him, drinking in his good looks. The curve of that upper lip, his strong jaw, his straight, even nose…
What would he look like naked? There was a dusting of hair on his arms. She suspected he’d have curly brown chest hair. She liked that. Smooth, waxed men were a turnoff to her. And the light coating of brown hair would lead down to…
Her cheeks reddened and she looked down at the table in front of her.
At that point, thank heavens, the waiter set two plates of pasta in front of them, and they dug in. Coral’s pasta was buttery and sprinkled with curls of parmesan, and the bread served with their meal was soft and moist and chewy.
After a few minutes, Flint set down his fork and said “So tell me what you’re working on.”
“Well, mostly routine stuff, although there is an odd situation with several missing people from Blue Moon Junction. The police are giving me the brush off, but I know there’s something there.”
She described it to him. He frowned, looking oddly perturbed.
“I don’t see the connection between those people,” he said. “An older man, a much younger woman, two of whom were in different countries when they allegedly disappeared. And a man in his twenties. From what you’re saying, the man was in an unhappy marriage, and the reporter left behind a note explaining why he took off.”
“A typed note. Anyone could have typed that. And I swear, when I talked to the Deputy Chief, he knew something, and he wasn’t telling me.”
“Well, there’s two possibilities there,” Flint said. “One possibility is that you’re wrong, and they don’t know anything. Another possibility is that there is something connecting these disappearances, and the police are investigating, which they’re obviously not going to share with a reporter, and you could be potentially endangering the investigation if you poke around too much.”
“Why wouldn’t they at least tell the families that they’re investigating? Adrian’s mother and Molly’s parents are freaking out. And David Bollinger’s teenage kids are too.”
“Maybe they don’t want whoever took the people to be spooked,” Flint shrugged, frowning, and tore off a piece of bread.
Coral suddenly had the feeling that Flint knew more than he was saying.
Why is he really here? She wondered again. The fact that she didn’t completely believe he was telling her the truth about his reasons for being in Blue Moon Junction was all the more reason not to get involved with him.
“Are you doing something to the plant?” Flint asked, staring at the small pot of begonias that was on their table. Its leaves had been edged with brown when they sat down at the table. Now they were glossy and green.
“Oh, that. Yeah, my mother is actually not a werewolf, she’s a witch. All of my sisters got really cool powers, but I’m kind of a magical washout. When I’m around plants, they tend to perk up and grow a little faster. That’s all I got.” She frowned at the begonia, concentrating hard, and new little bud popped up.
“My mother would love you. She’s always got a million pots of herbs in our kitchen. You’ll have to come by some time.”
For some reason, the mention of his mother, and the invite to his family home, sent a sharp twang of longing through her. If only all of this were real, and not a purchased date with a bear who might change his mind at any moment and go back to dodging her phone calls.
An odd, prickly feeling swept over her, and she glanced around the room, and her stomach twisted in a knot when she saw that Melinda had just walked in the door, arm and arm with Frederick.
Even from a quick glance, Melinda’s rigid
, angry posture gave her away. She had no interest in Frederick; she was here because of Flint, Coral was sure of it.
Frederick, on the other hand, looked dazzled. Coral wasn’t surprised. She had a feeling that all of Frederick’s leering and sexual innuendo was just a show, to hide the fact that he was basically an insecure geek underneath it all. She wouldn’t be surprised if he was a virgin. In fact, she’d be surprised if he wasn’t a virgin.
Flint followed Coral’s gaze, and scowled.
“It’s okay. I was just thinking it was time to call it a night,” Coral said. She scowled at Frederick, who didn’t even seem to notice that Coral was there. His attention was riveted, worshipfully, on Melinda. Melinda must have sunk her claws into him when he was taking pictures at the bachelor auction.
Coral wasn’t sure who she was more angry at. Bettina was going to be crushed, and Melinda was clearly just using Frederick to get back at Flint.
Flint sighed and shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he told her. “I made the mistake of telling her where I was going, in case there was some kind of work related emergency. I didn’t think she’d show up here like this.”
Melinda and Frederick sat down at a table across the room from them. She caught Flint’s eye, and waved at him with a big smile. Then she shot Coral a look of icy disdain.
“I’ll have to have a talk with her tomorrow,” Flint said, clearly annoyed. “This is getting out of hand.”
“It’s not your fault,” Coral shrugged. “I feel kind of sorry for her. I’m sure it’s not pleasant being hung up on someone who doesn’t feel the same way.”
Flint called their waiter over and paid their bill, and they headed out. Coral could feel Melinda’s glare boring into her back as they walked to Flint’s car.
A light rain was falling, and Coral begged off the boat ride that Flint had planned for them. When he suggested they could do it the following evening, she politely demurred.
When he pulled up in front of her house, he insisted on walking her back to her front door.
Don’t try to kiss me, don’t try to kiss me, she thought. Her resolve was weak, and she didn’t want to give in to her cravings.
They reached the front door, and she paused as an unfamiliar scent swirled in her nostrils.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
She tipped her head back and scented the air.
“Pardon me,” she said, and partially shifted, her face lengthening into a snout, her ears turning hairy and pointy. She sank down on her knees and sniffed at the door handle, then stood up, puzzled, and shifted back to human form, her fur sinking back beneath her skin and her snout retreating.
“What is it?”
“A human has been here today,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting anyone. The mailbox is by the curb, so it wasn’t a mailman. It’s not my landlord’s scent.” All the talk about mysterious disappearances was making her a little jumpy, she realized.
Flint reached out and tried the door handle. It was locked, just as it should be.
“Let me go in first,” he said.
“I should be fine.” She glanced at the house uneasily.
“No, I want to make sure.”
She unlocked the door for him, and he led the way into the apartment. She partially shifted again, just her head, to improve her sense of smell even more. He checked the bedroom and the laundry room and bathroom, before they went back to the kitchen/dining-room, where she stopped at the small round wooden table by the bay window.
“What do you smell?” he asked.
She picked up her reporter’s notebook and sniffed at it, then shifted back to human form so she could talk. “Someone human has been in the apartment, and they handled my notebook. It isn’t a scent that I recognize.”
“You should call the sheriff’s office and report it.”
“And tell them what? There’s no sign of a break in. I know that someone was here, but I can’t prove it.” The hair on her arms stood up.
Apparently she’d stumbled on something with all of her questions, and somebody was very interested in finding out what she’d learned. Unfortunately, so far, she hadn’t learned anything useful – but whoever broke in to her house didn’t know that.
He shook his head. “You can’t spend the night here by yourself. Come home with me.”
A night under the same roof with him? Forget it. She was already struggling with her conflicted feelings and her desire to rip his clothes off. She’d just about used up all of her self control for the evening.
“No,” she said. “I’ll be fine. I’m a wolf.”
“And I’m a bear,” he said, exasperated. “Lots of shifters are bigger than wolves. What if someone like me broke in?”
“I’d call the police. Then I’d shift and run very fast.”
“I’m not leaving until you come with me.”
She put her hands on her hips. “I said no, and I meant it. Thank you for dinner and for checking my house for me, now go home.”
“Stubborn redhead,” he growled.
“Obnoxious bear.”
“I’m sitting outside and waiting for you until you come with me.”
“Go ahead then,” she shrugged.
He turned and huffed out of the house, and got in his car with a slam of the door.
She showered and changed into her pajamas, feeling badly that he was sitting out in his car, but there was no way she was inviting him in. The living room couch was tiny, which meant the only place that he could sleep would be on the bed, and no way, jose. And she’d told him to go home. He could leave at any time.
She went to sleep, tossing and turning.
Then, around midnight, it started to rain in earnest.
Chapter Seven
When thunder cracked through the air, Coral relented. She scrambled out of bed, raced to the front door, and flung it open. Water poured from the sky as if angels had turned on a million spigots all at once. Jagged lines of lightning slashed the night sky. She hollered “Come in already, you big stubborn bear!”
He raced through the yard in the drenching rain, but even in the short dash to her front door, he was soaked.
“I thought you’d never ask,” he smirked, as she slammed the door shut against the gusting downpour.
He stood in her entryway with water dripping in pools on the floor, and began unbuttoning his shirt.
“What are you doing?” Coral squawked in alarm. Not naked. He couldn’t get naked in front of her! How much willpower was one woman supposed to have? Coral couldn’t walk past an innocent chocolate mousse torte without molesting it, and she was supposed to resist a naked Flint McCoy?
“I’m going to give you my clothes to dry,” he said, eyes wide and innocent. “You wouldn’t want me to catch a cold, now, would you?”
“I…I don’t have anything for you to wear!” she protested.
He peeled the shirt off and handed it to her. She tried hard not to look. His body was so perfect, he looked like a super-sized version of a Greek statue. His burly arms could have snapped a redwood like a twig. Each square of the six pack on his abs stood out in perfect relief. He had a dusting of dark brown hair on his chest, and a treasure trail running from his navel down below his pants, which he was unbuttoning.
Coral looked away, holding the dripping wet shirt.
“What, you’ve never seen a naked man before?”
“I’m not a virgin, if that’s what you’re asking,” she said huffily.
She’d seen naked men before. Not one of them had made her feel the way she was feeling right that moment. She felt as if liquid fire were pooled in her belly and running hot through her veins. She could feel her sex pulsing with each heartbeat, yearning to be filled.
“I know you city shifters don’t tend to get nekkid in front of each other,” he said cheerfully, stripping off his pants and boxers in one swift motion. She could barely see out of the corner of her eye, but what she could see was magnificent. And erect. Damn it. He certainly was proportio
nal. She wondered if he’d fit inside her, quite literally. He might actually be too big. Not that she planned on finding out.
“No, we don’t tend to shift and go dashing through the streets of New York,” she said. “But New York only has like a ten percent population of shifters anyway. We usually go up to places in Connecticut or upstate New York when we want to get our wolf on. It’s kind of a weekend thing. And we have piles of clothing waiting for us in changing rooms when we return.”
“Too bad. If you ever want to go for a run in the woods here, let me know,” he said, and then he looked serious for a moment. “These woods can be dangerous for people who don’t know their way around. If you ran into a pack of wolves that weren’t shifters, they’d be liable to pounce on you. Same thing with mountain lions. If you ever decide to go for a run around here, tell me and I’ll come with you.”
“I’ll do that,” she said to the wall, concentrating very hard on not staring at his nakedness. How odd, she thought, he really sounded concerned at the thought of her shifting and running alone.
He took his wallet and cell phone out of his pants pocket, and then handed the pants to her.
“I’ll be right back with a towel,” she said. “Then I’ll go in the kitchen and make you some hot chocolate.”
“Did you say hot chocolate? I’m in,” he said.
She took his clothing to the laundry room and dumped them in the dryer. Then she pulled the pants out and went through his pockets to make sure he hadn’t left anything in them. And, all right, because she was nosy.
Sue me, she thought, I’m a reporter. It comes with the territory.
Crumpled up in the pocket, wadded into a ball, was a receipt. Shame on me, she thought, un-crumpling it and reading it and not feeling the least bit ashamed.
It was a receipt for nine millimeter bullets…silver coated.
Thanks to recent federal legislation, only police officers and Enforcers were legally permitted to carry silver coated ammo, which was lethal to not just humans, but other shifters.
Shock rippled through her, but it also made sense. He was a cop or an Enforcer. Or a criminal? No, then he wouldn’t have a receipt for the bullets, he’d have bought them on the black market.
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