Some of the older folks would come in with their coffees and wander around, chatting and munching on donuts from Pearl’s donut truck. Others came in on a mission, needing a specific tool, or lumber, or potting soil. I spent time chatting with those here to visit and helping the customers who needed it.
But I couldn’t stop thinking about Moira.
I wanted her. My inner mountain lion rumbled contentedly at the idea of making her mine.
What the hell did I have to offer her, though? Nothing. I didn’t even have my own place; I was living in a B&B while I tried to find a permanent residence. A townhouse, in particular.
A townhouse that I was fighting over with Moira.
You could let her have the townhouse, a sneaky voice in my head said.
Shut up. No way, I wasn’t giving up the townhouse for a woman. Not even Moira O’Malley.
Even her name sounded musical in my head. I’d been repeating it to myself over and over since we were kids. Sometimes in a sing-song, teasing way. Sometimes as a chant as I rubbed one out in the shower while I pictured her luscious lips wrapped around my dick.
With so many fantasies of her running through my head, I would’ve thought my shift at the hardware store would go quickly, but alas, time seemed to crawl by.
More chatting. More finding lumber, or bags of concrete, and helping to load it into trucks.
When I finished helping old Mrs. Saltzman pick out a circular saw, she shook her finger at me. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Caleb Stone, getting that poor girl pregnant.”
I sighed. “I know. I’m going to try to do right by her.”
“You better,” she said, “or you’re going to feel the pointy end of my cane where you don’t want to feel anything pointy.”
She patted my cheek and called me a “good boy” who “made a mistake” before she purchased the saw and left the store.
I was an asshole, though. I’d never deserve Moira or anyone like her.
But I should take care of Jill, or at least help her out. When my shift was over, I went into the employee room and found Jill’s name in my phone. I tapped my fingers while the phone rang, wondering if she’d pick up.
Finally, her voice came through the speaker. “Yes?”
“Hey, it’s Caleb,” I said.
“Yeah, I know who you are,” she said.
“Do you need anything done around your place? For the baby?”
She was quiet for a moment. “Yes, actually. I can’t get this stupid crib put together.”
Assembly. I could do that. I glanced around the employee room, checking out faded posters of DIY projects. Someone had used a permanent marker to sketch some stick figures having sex on a shiny granite countertop. “Anything else?”
“Are you seriously offering?”
“I am.” Moira would want me to. I wanted to be the kind of guy Moira would approve of. This was strange—the way I felt about Moira. It wasn’t all about fucking, it wasn’t all about scratching an itch.
It was about being someone better.
“Well, the walls in the nursery haven’t been painted.”
“I’m still at the hardware store. Any color you’d prefer?”
“Something gender-neutral. Maybe a nice green?”
I wanted to know the gender of the baby, but I knew I didn’t have any kind of claim on it, not really. “On it,” I said.
After we got off the phone, I went through the hardware store collecting paint and a few other supplies I thought Jill might appreciate. If she didn’t want them, they’d be easy enough to return, since I worked here.
Jill wore a frown on her face when I came up to the door. She looked beyond the edge of her yard and down the sidewalk. “I could’ve sworn I saw you walk past, just a minute ago.”
“Nope, just got here.” I pointed to my truck parked on the street. Holding out my arms, laden with paint and everything else, I said, “So, where’s the baby’s room?”
I felt good after helping Jill with the nursery. There was absolutely no spark of attraction between us, but that was okay. I still didn’t remember ever getting into bed with her, but that was also okay.
As I left her house, I knew I didn’t want to return to the B&B. There was only one person I wanted to see and talk to.
Moira O’Malley.
Two streets down and one over, I caught a glimpse of a guy wearing the same clothes as me—jeans and a brown shirt just like what I wore to work. He had hair kind of like mine, too.
A weird sensation swirled through my stomach. Hadn’t Jill said she thought she saw me walking by? Was some evil genius ripping my style for points with the ladies?
He even had a nice ass for a man. That sealed it. He was definitely copying me.
I pulled my truck to the curb and threw it into park. I hurried out after the mystery man. He started walking faster.
“Hey!” I shouted.
He ran. Only the guilty would flee.
I ran after him, not wanting to lose him around the corner.
But when I reached the crossroads, I turned and didn’t see him.
Instead there was a middle aged man standing there with his hands on his hips.
He glowered at me. “You.”
I checked out his potbelly, his short balding head, and his plaid shirt.
I didn’t even have to ask him to spin to know he didn’t have my ass. This wasn’t the same guy.
“Did you see a guy come through here?” I asked, looking past him.
“How dare you.” He shoved a sausage shaped finger into my chest.
“Look, guy, whatever you think I did, I didn’t. I don’t even know who you are.”
“I’m Jill’s father.”
Oh.
This wasn’t the first time I’d been on this side of an accusational finger swinging around. This was the first time I actually felt bad about what I’d been accused of. Usually it was for sleeping with someone’s sister or some asshat’s crush. I didn’t owe them anything.
But I did owe Jill.
And therefore I felt obligated to not be a dick to her father.
I offered a hand and smiled, hoping to ease the suffocating tension in the air. “I think we started off on the wrong foot,” I said.
“I’m not shaking your hand.”
No loss there. I didn’t really want to touch his sweaty hand again.
“Look,” I said. The rest was uncharted territory. My usual speech was about consent and taking two people to do the deed, but as it never went over well, I didn’t think that would work here. “I didn’t expect any of this, but I’m going to—”
“You look, you little worm,” he said. “You stay away from my daughter.”
A little late for that.
“She can do better than the likes of you, Caleb Stone. She deserves better.”
I nodded. Moira could do better.
“I only want to help Jill with setting up—”
“You’ve helped enough.”
“She’s a grown woman and can decide these things for herself,” I said. “Whatever she needs, I’ll be there for her and my baby.”
“Her baby.”
This wasn’t going well, not that these things ever did.
“I won’t be a problem to her,” I said. “I’ll only help when and where she needs it.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and looked me over.
“Nice to meet you,” I said, and turned back for my truck.
Even more than before, my mind was filled with thoughts of Moira.
I wanted to take solace in her company, savor her wry smiles, revel in her sweet scent. I wanted to be near her, because my life was better when she was in it.
I swung past Forbidden Treats just as Hazel was closing up. Her flame-red hair bobbed in its bun as she wiped down counters.
“Am I too late for cupcakes?” I asked.
“No,” she said, wrinkling her freckled nose, looking puzzled. “You need more already?”
&nb
sp; “Huh?”
She shook her head. “Sorry, just had the weirdest sensation of déjà vu. Anyway, yep, there are still cupcakes. Which ones do you want?”
I made my selection, paid, and left the bakery. I couldn’t wait to see Moira.
Then I realized: if things were developing between us, before anything went further, I would need to tell her about Jill.
Chapter 10
Moira
The lavender scent of my bubblebath mingled in the air with the notes of the vanilla sugar cookie candle perched beside the sink. Hot water soothed my tight muscles. I turned my neck from side to side and leaned back. My hair fanned out around my shoulders like dark brown tentacles on the surface of the water. I sank down until the bubbles covered me to my chin, and blew back the cluster of suds that approached.
It was possible I’d been too hard on Brody. I didn’t need him to fight my battles for me, and I sure as hell didn’t need to face retribution for dirty deeds done in my name.
We’d switched roles the past day or two, with me being the one driving him crazy. I was on edge, and clearly he didn’t have the ovaries for it. If he couldn’t woman up and wanted to stay scarce, fine with me. I could use the peace and quiet.
I slipped one eye open and reached for my flute of champagne. If I wasn’t going to end up with half my mouth full of the wrong kind of bubbles, I was going to have to sit up a little. Doing the bare minimum, I took a sip. Cool and crisp, the champagne washed over my tongue.
Yep, this was the life.
I closed my eyes and leaned my head back.
Thirty seconds into a fantasy involving a hot massage from a man with Caleb’s build and face, who I was trying to tell myself was definitely not Caleb, a knocking sound reached my ears.
I glanced at the bathroom door, which fortunately was closed. It seemed Brody was back sooner than expected.
More banging. He must have left his keys, and he was going to make me get out of the water. It was a furious pounding, and I knew if I kept ignoring him, I’d pay the price later one way or another.
Begrudgingly, I climbed from the bath and grabbed a towel. Why wouldn’t Brody just use the doggy door?
The cool air pricked my wet skin as I headed down the hall. “I’m coming!”
I threw open the door, ready to bite my brother’s head off for not remembering the spare key we kept under the rock at the foot of the steps, when I noticed it was not in fact Brody at the door.
It was Caleb.
He looked quite delicious in his dark brown work shirt. It was tight around his biceps and from the way it draped over his torso, I could see how his waist tapered slightly.
Just as scrumptious as the view of him in his work shirt was the promise of the pink box he held in his hands.
“Hi?” I waited for him to tell me why he was here.
His eyes wandered down my form, then slowly back up.
Shit. I was only wearing a towel. A blush heated my skin in the wake of his gaze, my body responding as if he were actually touching me. I shifted my weight between my feet and readjusted my towel a little higher over my boobs.
“Damn, Moira O’Malley,” he said, openly staring.
I cleared my throat. “What do you want, Caleb?”
“We made a deal,” he said, and opened the box for me. “I said coffee, you said cupcakes. Can I come in?”
He brought me cupcakes.
“Yeah, okay.” I squeezed my towel a little tighter. “I wouldn’t want to skip out on my chance at a truce.”
I stepped out of the way and Caleb came in.
He looked around the living room and made his way to the kitchen like this was his place instead of mine.
“Nice house.”
“Mmhmm.” I followed after him. “James rented it for all of us, trading for fixes. We put on a new roof.”
“New porch, too.” Caleb tried one of the cabinet doors. “New kitchen.”
“Yep, new everything.”
He set down the box and turned to me. His hands gripping the edge of the counter, his strong arms flexed as he leaned back.
My mouth went dry as I followed the hard lines up. His shoulders were wide and strong, his arms thick with muscle, just like his core. I imagined the feel of his hands on me from the fantasy I’d been indulging in during my bath. I glanced at his big hands. Everything about him was big. His fingers were rough from manual labor, but his touch was tender. He knew exactly how to use those hands, just like he knew how to use his mouth. I stared at his lips and flexed my fingers, imagining tracing those lines beneath my fingertips.
The towel slipped.
A weird sound of animal frustration and embarrassment escaped my lips. I scrambled to catch the dropped fabric unsuccessfully.
The worst part about all of it was that I was embarrassed, not of my naked body, but of how foolish I felt when I was with Caleb. It was like he had a magical power over me, one that turned me into a stumbling, bumbling idiot, and I hated that.
He came closer as I fumbled to pick the towel back up. He leaned down, probably to help, but I panicked, and did exactly what any animal does when she’s scared. I ran.
Well, I shifted first, like lightning, because even if my fingers fumbled, my paws didn’t.
I ran right out the dog door at the back of the house, and didn’t look back. Part of me felt foolish for running, but I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly.
My heart raced, even faster than my legs.
Before long I felt the presence of someone behind me, and I knew I wasn’t alone.
As a huge mountain lion came up beside me and brushed his shoulder against mine, I didn’t feel so foolish after all.
Moonlight poured through the piney branches above.
“Is my peace offering so bad you’d rather run away?” Caleb asked in the shifter tongue.
“No,” I said.
We ran through the dark forest, and I turned onto a small path, forcing him to fall in behind me instead of staying at my side.
With a gentle touch, Caleb nipped my tail. I jumped in surprise, then ran faster.
The trail opened into a small clearing, and he caught me, circling around and forcing me to stop.
I laughed, or at least I laughed on the inside. I hadn’t had so much fun in...I didn’t know how long. Since we were teenagers, maybe.
“Why’d you run, Moira O’Malley?” He brushed his cheek against mine, just like a cat would do, marking me with his scent.
Claiming me as his.
“Maybe I was afraid,” I said.
“Afraid I’d see you naked?” he asked.
“Afraid if I agree to your truce that you’ll turn into Nice Caleb. Maybe I don’t like when you’re too polite.”
His eyes darkened and he shifted back to human form. Sandy fur changed to tan skin—tan skin lined with sinewy muscle.
I drank in every inch of his glorious naked body.
He said, “If you don’t like me polite, then I take back every nice thing I’ve ever said to you.”
His broad chest expanded as he slowly inhaled. He squared his shoulders, standing tall and exposed. His toned muscles traveled down to ripped abs, and another impressive sight between his legs.
I laughed, and it came out as a wolfish bark. And suddenly there was nothing I wanted more than to run my hands over his skin, and to kiss him and run my tongue along his.
So I womaned up and shifted back into human form, too.
He was on me in a flash, yanking my hips forward until our bodies pressed together. His cock was already hard between us, hot against my stomach. He slid his mouth against mine and I parted my lips, inviting him in.
Holy hell, Caleb Stone could kiss like a champ. I shoved away thoughts of all the practice he’d had over the years, because to me, all that mattered was right now. His lips on mine, his tongue claiming my mouth, his hands tight on my hips.
He pulled back. We were both gasping, breathing hard.
“Moira O’Malley,”
he whispered, “this is a dream come true.”
I didn’t know what he meant by that, only that I needed it to continue. I hooked one of my legs around his, yanking him closer. He lifted me up and walked, not stopping until my back was against a tree. Then he took my hands in one of his and pulled them above my head.
“I’m going to worship your body, Moira,” he said, his voice gruff.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “I don’t want worshipping, Caleb. I want a good fucking.”
He grinned. “Fast and hard, huh? I can do that, too. But first—protection?”
“I’m on the pill.” I’d never been so glad of that in my life, especially when he used his free hand to lift one of my legs and slid his cock against my pussy, coating himself in my arousal.
“You feel incredible. Fuck, Moira,” he whispered against my cheek before kissing me.
“That’s my hope,” I said.
He laughed and poised his tip at my entrance. “You want this? Truly?”
“Yes.” My eyes fluttered shut as the sensation of him so close, so connected, overloaded my body.
“Moira,” he said, “look at me.”
Opening my eyes, I saw his gaze was locked on mine. I tried to read his expression. Concentration mixed with bliss. His eyes darkened as he slid inside of me. It was a struggle to keep my eyes open as he filled me completely.
He groaned, a deep, throbbing rumble that I felt throughout my body.
“Do you still want this fast and hard?” he asked.
“Yes. Please, yes.”
“You got it.” He stole my lips in another kiss and began pounding into me. The tree bark bit into my back with each of his thrusts and the sting of it only heightened the pleasure as his dick surged within. He adjusted the angle of his thrusts, and then he was hitting my clit as well.
“Caleb!” I shouted.
“That’s right,” he said, moving his kisses from my mouth to my shoulder and scraping his teeth along the sensitive area. “Come for me, Moira. I can’t hold on much longer because you wanted this hard and my cock’s about to empty into your sweet pussy, so if you want to come—”
His dirty words did it—the pleasure mounted until I went over the edge, shuddering around him, my body shaking.
Mated in Forbidden Page 5