Mated in Forbidden

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Mated in Forbidden Page 3

by Keira Blackwood


  I looked at him, really looked at him.

  He leaned forward, flexing his shoulders and neck. I watched the muscles roll, and the focus of his gaze deepen. His scent enveloped me—wild, masculine, and clean. He smelled like freshly cut wood and running free in the forest.

  I took a deep sip of my drink to resist the urge to breathe him in, to savor that scent.

  There was a small group of women in one of the booths staring at him, too, whispering to each other. Caleb was ridiculously hot, so I couldn’t blame them.

  Usually he’d ditch me, or anyone he happened to be talking to for the chance to join them. At the moment, it was like he didn’t even notice them. Hmm, it was a miracle—Caleb Stone was acting like a decent human being.

  “I’ve had a long day,” I said, shifting in my seat. “That’s all.”

  He sat there, openly staring. “You can tell me more, if you want.”

  This was too weird. Where was all the rude banter and inappropriate comments? I gulped down my drink, letting the pleasant buzz wash over me. I couldn’t deny that this version of Caleb was kind of nice, though.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out, sparing a glance at Caleb. “Phone call.”

  He didn’t say anything.

  I turned and answered.

  “Moira? This is Brianne.”

  A thrill of excitement shot right up my spine. My real estate agent—just who I wanted to talk to. Like most of the residents of Forbidden, I’d known Brianne my whole life. We’d gone to school together. Occasionally we would run into each other and catch up like we were closer friends than we’d been. I’d left her a message last night, then chatted with her this morning, giving her all the specifics of what I was looking for. My requests were fairly simple, because mostly I was looking for a place that didn’t come with Brody O’Malley.

  “Hey, yes,” I said. “How are you? Did you find me something? I’m desperate. I’ll take anything.”

  “Yeah,” she said. “I have a few options.”

  Her voice had a strained tone to it.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  Caleb finally turned away, and started to talk to someone else.

  “I’m okay,” she said.

  “I can tell you’re not,” I said. “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay, but I’m here if you do.”

  “I’m pregnant.”

  Given the way she said it, I knew this wasn’t happy news.

  “Oh yeah?”

  “It wasn’t planned. And now I’m a bit of a mess,” she said. “Anyway, I’ll be fine. Like I said, I have a few options to share with you, but there’s this one townhouse that I think will be perfect. Can you make time to come out tomorrow morning to see it? It’s not going to be on the market long. Say seven?”

  “Of course. Yes.”

  “I’ll pick you up,” she said.

  “Great, thanks, Brianne.”

  I hung up the phone and asked Jeff if I could take my burger to go. If I was going to be able to drive myself home, I was going to have to be done drinking, that was for sure.

  “You’re leaving?” Caleb asked.

  “Yeah. Early morning tomorrow.”

  He smiled. So many smiles from this guy tonight, and none of them looked smug or irritating. What was up with him? “Maybe we can get together later and chat. You look like you could use a friend.”

  “Who are you, and what have you done with Caleb?” I asked, laughing.

  He didn’t laugh. “I’m not sure what you mean, Moira.”

  Just Moira. Not Moira O’Malley. “You’re being weird.”

  “I’m being a friend, Moira,” he said.

  “Okay, weirdo.”

  Jeff handed over my bag of food, I paid, and then I left, more than a little creeped out by Caleb Stone’s new, strange behavior.

  Chapter 5

  Caleb

  Elijah parked his car on the street, so I pulled up behind him.

  Climbing out of my truck, I took in the townhouses before me. They were classic plaster and brick, well-maintained and charming. Each one had its own personality, unlike the newer, cookie-cutter constructions.

  The neighborhood was quiet, which was nice. A few cars were parked in driveways, but we were the only ones on the street. If the inside was even half as nice as the front, I’d have to come back in the evening to see what it was like then. I knew I had a reputation as a player, but that didn’t make me a party guy. I liked to come home to a calm, peaceful place at the end of the day.

  “So, what do you think?” Elijah asked. He’d put on a few extra pounds in college. He tried to disguise it with an overly large suit jacket and a wider tie, but there was no hiding his extra weight.

  “Looks good so far,” I said, checking to see which townhouse had the For Sale sign in front of it. The one on the end, with the bright petunias in a planter on the porch. The deep blue door contrasted with the gray plaster, and it rose up two stories. I hadn’t lived anywhere so roomy since I’d moved out of my parents’ place after high school.

  My dad had kicked me out, actually...he got tired of me bringing dates home to stay the night.

  “Shall we take a look inside?” Elijah asked.

  “Yeah, let’s do it.”

  He rubbed his hands together as we made our way up the paved path. “As you can see, each of the locks has a key code. State of the art.”

  I wasn’t sure how state of the art that was, but okay.

  “And there’s state of the art lighting. A motion detector,” he said, waving his hands around as we reached the narrow steps.

  Nothing happened.

  “Well, obviously the motion sensor lights won’t come on in the daytime,” he said.

  “Obviously,” I said.

  He punched in a code to unlock the front door, then let me inside, talking about the state of the art wood flooring, the state of the art granite countertops, and the state of the art garbage disposal in the kitchen sink.

  I should’ve brought a bottle of Jack and made “state of the art” into a drinking game. Then again, if I had, I’d have ended up too drunk to walk my ass out of the house.

  Fine with me, though; I could stick around here forever. I loved it. We walked upstairs to the bedrooms, and I fell even more in love with the place. The color scheme was ready to go—I wouldn’t have to paint a damn thing, and I hated painting. The lighting was nice, the rooms spacious, and it was move-in ready.

  “Helloooooo!” a voice called from the first floor.

  Elijah hurried out of the master bedroom, which he’d been extolling for its state of the art window treatments (simple blinds). He bellowed down the stairway, “I’m showing the house right now.”

  “Well, you don’t own it, Elijah. I can show it, too.”

  The voice sounded familiar.

  “Of course, Brianne,” Elijah said, his voice sarcastically friendly. “You’re entitled to show the house as well. Even if I made it here before you.”

  He came back into the bedroom and made a face.

  “Everything okay?” I asked.

  He looked flustered. “Yes. Just, Brianne thinks she’s entitled to everything.”

  Suddenly I realized—Brianne. Brianne. The agent who’d hung up on me yesterday. Shit. Well, no matter, I was sure she could be professional while she was working.

  “The counters are new,” she was saying to her client, her voice floating up from the kitchen below. “But of course with your connections, you could easily replace the counters or anything else in the place that isn’t to your liking.”

  “Oh, it’s actually wonderful,” her client responded.

  I knew that voice. I’d recognize that musical, throaty tone anywhere.

  Moira O’Malley.

  Alone, I could handle either one of the women. But with Brianne hating me for some unknown reason, and Moira hating me just because that was what she did—I didn’t want to face them.

  Maybe I was a coward, or mayb
e I was a smart man with a sense of self-preservation.

  “We should get out of here,” I said to Elijah. “Would you like to show me the state of the art fire escape?”

  “Fire escape?” He chuckled. “We don’t have fire escapes on two-story homes.”

  I looked out the wide window to the ground below. The bushes were sparse, as if they’d been planted days ago to aid with curb appeal. Maybe I could make a jump and not break a bone. Even if I did, I’d heal quickly.

  But footsteps were already coming up the stairs. I saw Brianne first. Her black hair was cut shorter than the last time I’d seen her, and her usually soft blue eyes were sharp. I gave her a charming smile. She looked like she was going to spit in my face, so I took a step back. Following her into the master bedroom was Moira.

  She wore a billowy blouse that was sheer but not quite see-through and a pencil skirt with her signature Converse sneakers. I could tell with a quick glance what kind of work she was planning today; she’d be visiting a building site but not getting her hands dirty. Her dark hair was loose, a rare sight that I wished I could witness more often.

  “Caleb,” Moira said, confusion wrinkling the space between her eyebrows. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m looking to buy a place,” I said, as surprised to see her as she seemed to be to see me.

  “Hmm. Me, too,” she said.

  I looked around, then noticed Brianne again.

  She was pregnant—very pregnant. Elijah seemed to notice at the same time I did.

  “Brianne,” he said, his cheeks faintly pink, “um, how are you?”

  “Oh, you know, I’m as big as a house,” she said. “This baby can make her exit through my va-jay-jay any day now.”

  He looked relieved, and I realized he’d been trying not to ask her outright about the pregnancy. Smart man. My gran had once told me that no matter how pregnant a woman might appear, I was under no circumstances allowed to ask her if she was expecting until she brought it up herself.

  “I didn’t realize you were expecting, last time I saw you,” Elijah said.

  “Yes, me neither,” she said, smiling at him. “But you know how these things go. One day, not pregnant. The next, ready to welcome a little one into the world.”

  Was that really how these things went? I looked at Moira, wondering if this sounded like crazy talk to her, too. Her eyebrows were raised, her mouth partly open. I spent a moment being distracted by her pink-shaded lips before returning to the conversation in front of me.

  Moira and Brianne disappeared into the master bathroom.

  Elijah pointed uselessly after them. “It has a state of the art bidet.”

  Nodding, I said, “Of course it does.”

  Moira emerged a second later, closing the door behind her. She said, “Apparently, being that far along makes a pregnant woman have to pee all the time.”

  The toilet flushed and I heard the sink running a moment later.

  Moira went on, “So, Caleb, how’s it going?”

  “Pretty good. You know me, Moira O’Malley. What was it you said to me one time? I’m like a cockroach? Always turning up where you don’t want me?”

  She cocked her head. “So it’s Moira O’Malley, again.”

  “Huh?”

  “My full name. Last night at the Watering Hole, it was just Moira.”

  “What?” I asked. “I wasn't—”

  The bathroom door opened, cutting off my words with a creak. I’d have to oil that door after I moved in to this place.

  “Anyway, Moira,” Brianne said, emerging from the bathroom, “I can put in an offer for you.”

  “I’d love that,” Moira said.

  “Wait just a second.” I stepped forward. “I want this place.”

  “I’m surprised,” Moira said with one of those deceptively sweet smiles.

  I smiled back. “Why is that?”

  “Well, I just didn’t know you had taste.” Turning to Brianne, she continued, “Yes, please, let’s look into putting an offer together.”

  They left the room and made their way downstairs.

  I looked at Elijah. “I want this place. Let’s put together an offer the sellers can’t refuse.”

  Chapter 6

  Moira

  On the way home from work that evening, I picked up carryout from Forbidden Fortune. It was the only Chinese place in Forbidden, and their wonton soup and egg rolls were all time favorite comfort foods. With the steaming hot paper bag tucked in my arm, I stood by the front door and fumbled through my mass of keys.

  The front light flicked on, and the door flew open.

  Brody crossed his arms and stepped into the frame, blocking my way. “Well hello there, cereal killer.”

  “Me? If anyone is to blame for the Lucky Charms incident, it’s you.”

  A crooked smile spread across his face.

  “After I shook my sheets out, I still ended up getting stabbed with tiny spiked sugar rocks through the night. And I woke up looking like I’d rolled around in a pile of crushed drywall.”

  I shrugged and pushed past him.

  He reached for my bag, but I held on tight.

  “What’d you bring me?” he asked.

  “Promise to replace my almond milk and I might share.”

  “Which carton?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “You drank the one I had here, too?”

  “So the carton in the trailer?” He shut the door without letting go of my bag.

  I squared my shoulders. “Both.”

  He nodded, “Yeah, sure.”

  Good thing I’d bought double expecting exactly this exchange. Well, I hadn’t expected the almond milk situation, but I should have.

  I carried the food to the little kitchen and set the bag on the counter. I reached for the plate cabinet, but Brody shoved himself between me and the counter.

  “What the hell, Brody?”

  “I wouldn’t want to ruin dinner by letting you open that. I’ll just—” He opened the corner just a bit, and slid his hand tentatively inside. “Where’ve you been?”

  “Work. House hunting.” I leaned against the fridge and watched my brother flinch. What had he put in the cabinet?

  Brody hissed and pulled his hand out. There were red scratches down the length of his hand.

  “You’re bleeding! What the hell did you put in there for me?”

  He laughed and shoved his hand back in. “House hunting...for a new job? I figured you’d want to wait until the B&B was wrapped up.”

  “No, dummy. House hunting for me. To live away from you.”

  “Oh.” He pulled his hand slowly from the cabinet. In it was a squirming, writhing brown ball of furry fury.

  “You left that for me?”

  “It’s a honey badger.” He held it out toward me. Its needle fangs were lodged in his finger as it clawed at his thumb.

  “I see that.”

  “You want to move?” His smile was gone, and his dark green eyes looked like he actually regretted something.

  Which made me feel extra shitty.

  “Yes. You’re going to have to wash all the dishes in that cabinet.”

  “Why?”

  “Wild animal,” I said pointing to the monster in his hands.

  He frowned. “Why do you want to move?”

  “Seriously?”

  “I thought it would be the two of us until you and Caleb finally admitted the inevitable.”

  “That we should never ever talk to each other?” I snorted. “Agreed.”

  “No, dummy,” he said, repeating my earlier insult. “That you’re madly in love and destined for weird gross sweaty sex.”

  I coughed on my own spit.

  The honey badger from hell hissed and twisted in Brody’s hand.

  “I loathe that man,” I said, composing myself.

  There was a knock at the door.

  Brody lifted a finger on the hand that was not covered in badger. “Hold that thought.”

  I leaned on
the counter and watched as Brody made his way to the door. As soon as he opened it, the badger dove from his arm to rejoin the wilderness where it belonged.

  A surprised squeak came from the other side of the door.

  “Pearl.” Brody’s voice rose an octave or three.

  “Hey,” she said.

  I took a bite of an eggroll and watched the two of them act like nervous teenagers in the doorway.

  “Want to come in?” Brody asked.

  “No, I just wanted to drop this off for you.”

  “Oh.”

  “It’s a dreamcatcher,” she said. “People primarily use them for decoration, assuming their purpose is superstition, but most superstition is based in reality. After you mentioned the nightmares with the rodents, I thought—”

  “That’s thoughtful,” he said. “Thank you.”

  “It’s nothing, really,” she said.

  Yeah right.

  “The string is infused with iron shavings, and a spell, so in addition to the dream catcher itself, it should pack a punch.”

  “You sure you don’t want to come in?” Brody asked again.

  “Yes. I have plans, it’s not a good time. I just wanted to make sure I got this to you before bed.” She looked past Brody, and her eyes went wide as she noticed me, like she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t.

  I waved. “Hey, Pearl.”

  “Hi.” She waved back. “I was just going. Bye, Brody.”

  With that, she left, and Brody stood by the door, looking over the dreamcatcher as if it was the most precious thing in the world.

  “Back to Caleb.” Brody shot me a smirk as he made his way back to the kitchen.

  I reached for the flatware drawer. “There’s not a snake in here, is there?”

  He shook his head. “You said you loathe that man, but we both know you meant you love him.”

  After the way he held Pearl’s dreamcatcher to his chest, he was really going to give me a hard time about Caleb?

  “I’m going to need a verbal confirmation that it is safe to open this drawer.”

  “It is safe to open that drawer. Just don’t try the one next to it.”

  I didn’t ask, and instead retrieved two spoons.

 

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