by Amelia Jade
She continued to stare at the wall, only vaguely able to see him out of the corner of one eye. “You want to be of help?”
“I do.”
“All right. Then tell me what happened?”
“I can’t.”
She whirled on him, mouth open, ready to flay him with words.
“All I can do is apologize,” he said as she stood there, her mouth acting as little more than a flytrap while he handed the bouquet of flowers to her. “I’m sorry.”
Eventually enough control returned that Kathryn could move her jaw up and down like an elevator, though no sound emerged.
“Why did you get me flowers?” she said at last, reaching out to take them. “They’re beautiful.”
“I was told that flowers are still considered a sign of apology from a man to a woman. It seemed appropriate.”
Still? What does he mean still? But her mind was caught up in the mixture of orchids of varying colors. “They’re beautiful.”
“I can’t undo abandoning you like that. But I can promise that I won’t do it again.” He paused. “If you’re okay with it, I’d like to continue coming by to help you.”
Kathryn studied the flowers for a few more seconds. Callan was trying very hard to show that he was sorry, and even though he had run away from her and was unwilling to explain why. He’d still ensured she was able to get home from the mall, which meant he’d been thinking of her even as he fled.
As trepid as she was about letting the strange giant back into her home and life, especially while she was vulnerable, it seemed he was trying to make it up. Against her better judgment, she decided to give him a second chance.
“No malls today,” she told him.
“No malls. Agreed.”
The gratification on his face was so apparent she almost giggled. That would be rude, so instead she opted for a little smile, all the while hoping that she hadn’t just made a giant mistake.
“Katy dear, if you’re planning on going, you need to get moving shortly,” her mother called from the other room.
Typical. Of course she’d been listening in.
“Where are you going?” Callan asked her, trying to sound uninterested and failing miserably.
“Do you mean where are we going?”
He recovered swiftly, she would give him that. “Yes, of course.”
“Therapy.”
The hulking “assistant” studied her carefully. “I see.”
She nodded. “Yeah. I hope you like swimming.”
His throat bobbed up and down. “Like…water?”
“Yeah. It’s great for helping me rehab. I can use my muscles without the stress of gravity weighing down on them.”
“In the water?”
Kathryn stared up at him. “You can’t swim, can you?”
Callan scowled. “Of course I can swim. I just have a healthy fear of open water for very good reasons.”
“And those are?” she pushed gently, wondering what it was that bothered him.
“Dragons,” he said stoically, somehow managing to say it with a completely straight face.
“Ah. Right. ‘Here be dragons,’” she said with a pirate-y accent, as if reading the maps of old.
“Something like that,” he muttered under his breath.
“Well, let me get changed. I hope you brought swim trunks!”
Chapter Eight
Callan
Swim trunks.
What an odd term for a bathing suit, which was essentially shorts. Callan had been ready to simply strip down and go in the buff, as he’d done almost daily when younger at the local river.
As it turned out, they weren’t headed to a big lake or the ocean, much to his relief. Water dragons were not beings to be trifled with lightly. Out of their aquatic element, they were not much of a threat, being wingless and lacking the ability to therefore fly, let alone move very quickly over land.
In the water, however? An absolute terror, even against another dragon. So when she’d told him they were going to a swimming pool, an artificial construct, he’d breathed a vast sigh of relief. It was like a moat, except designed for swimming purposes. He could understand that.
Though apparently, according to Kathryn, he needed to wear a special outfit to use the water. When she’d used the term trunks, he’d tried to conjure up just how someone could use a trunk as a clothing apparatus. Maybe they cut two holes in the side and stood it up on its end lengthwise?
It would be rather heavy, he’d thought, and when he’d voiced his concerns about this to Kathryn, she’d just laughed. And laughed. And laughed.
So now he was waiting for her on the outside of the changing room, his nose assaulted by chemicals and his body being drooled over by every woman and even some of the men in sight. All because of the short, somewhat tight shorts he wore that were apparently necessary.
What a strange world.
The women’s changing room door creaked open and he spun to say hello to Kathryn. Any words that may have formed were lost in a puff of chemicals however, the sight of her in a bathing suit—women’s outfits were “suits,” not trunks, he’d learned—leaving him speechless.
She looked gorgeous, the sleek black one-piece fitting perfectly against her curves, highlighting the pale nature of her skin. There were freckles, he noticed, mostly across her shoulders but also continuing down her chest and across her back as well, adding even more personality.
Thick legs stuck out from the suit, pressed together and ultra shapely the way he enjoyed it. Her thighs were round and full, and the way the slick material clung to her breasts was—
“Yes. I have a mass of scars all over,” Kathryn grumped, moving past him somewhat unsteadily, though she didn’t reach for any support. “You don’t have stare.”
He blinked. “You do?”
She stared at him, eyes wide in disbelief. “Seriously? Look at this.” Using one hand she pointed at the various purple lines on her skin. There was one that ran up her left leg, and another that looked like it started at her thigh and ran up and across her stomach as well. A number of smaller ones surrounded the larger ones. Her foot was also covered in them, clearly cut open in multiple places.
“You’re trying to tell me that you somehow didn’t notice all that?” she snapped, her voice full of derision and disgust, though he felt most of it was aimed at herself over the way she looked.
How was he supposed to tell her that no, he hadn’t noticed a single thing wrong with her? That his eyes had been drawn to the rest of her, that little imperfections like that meant less than nothing to him. It was her that he found fascinating.
Now though, as he stared at the damage wrought to the body of such an amazing person, Callan was filled with a different emotion. Something much darker. Rage dripped and then poured into his body, fueled by sheer contempt and utter hatred in his heart for the person who had done this to her. Why, if they were here right now he would rip them limb from limb and beat their still-living body with them!
A low rumble filled the pool area, and it wasn’t until everyone was staring at him that Callan understood he was making the noise, his anger manifesting itself physically.
“Are you okay?” Kathryn asked softly. “Your skin is growing darker.”
Glancing down in alarm, Callan saw his arms were close to turning black. He forced himself to relax, pushing his dragon down, trying to keep calm. The last thing he needed was to lose control. With no shirt on and much of his skin exposed, it would be obvious to even the most casual observer that he was anything but human if his skin turned black.
“Just angry,” he rumbled, his voice grinding out like a heavy freight train engine powering up. “To see you so angry at yourself over something that you couldn’t control. It makes me wish the person who did this to you were here. Right now.” He curled one massive hand into a fist, knuckles popping and cracking loudly as he did.
“They got what they deserved,” Kathryn told him, reaching out to gently place he
r hand on his bicep. “It’s fine.”
Her touch instantly changed the focus of his mood, and he started to look at the water longingly, wishing he could be in it so that any reaction he may have already been feeling was hidden from everyone else.
“Let’s get ready. I think they’re waiting on us,” she urged.
Callan moved with her gentle push, and together they waded over to the steps. Without being asked, he bent over and gently scooped her up into his arms before carrying her into the pool.
“Uh, Callan?”
“Yes?”
“You can put me down now,” she said awkwardly.
He looked around. Everyone was staring at him, wondering why he was carrying her like that. Good job. You’ve just embarrassed the shit out of her in public. Way to go. She’ll totally want to have you around now.
Callan hurriedly put her down, letting his arms go so that she could reach the water. Kathryn splashed into the water with a yelp at the sudden release, surfacing a moment later with an icy glare as she spat out water and pushed the strands of hair that had escaped the little plastic helmet thing she wore back under.
“Not quite what I had in mind.” She was upset with him. It was obvious.
“I screwed that up.” It was a statement.
“Yeah, you screwed that up. Next time try putting me down as gently as you picked me up.” Kathryn was bobbing up and down slowly as she spoke, bouncing gently off the bottom, her legs bent.
“Yeah, that would have been a better thing to do,” he agreed, sinking into the water the rest of the way, wishing he could just stay under and never have to come back up. He was so embarrassed.
The person at the head of the class, a young woman who had to be no more than twenty-five, spoke up from the front and saved him from anything further.
“Okay, space out everyone, let’s get started. Arms out wide, make sure you have plenty of room between you and the person nearest you. I don’t want any of you superstars to get too vigorous and bonk someone on the head!”
Callan frowned as the class of fifteen laughed and spread out. Vigorous? It was mostly filled with elderly and a few people who looked like Kathryn, recovering from some sort of injury.
Then the instructor started the class, and Callan realized that was just her personality. Over-the-top and energetic. She was probably a morning person too.
Moving to the back, he watched as they moved through some motions, very slowly at first, but eventually starting to move a little faster. He thought about trying to follow along, but his thoughts kept coming back to Kathryn.
She was his mate. It was tough for him to debate that, but neither did he want to accept it. Losing one mate was hard enough, but there was a very real possibility that in a few years when the Outsiders poured through the portal that he could lose Kathryn too. That was if he allowed himself to get close to her though, something he was still unsure about doing. Despite all his mighty strength, he was afraid he might not be able to handle the pain of going through that again.
There were some things even a dragon couldn’t do.
As he thought of her, Callan’s eyes roamed back across the building toward where she had been bobbing/moving around all class long. Alarm rocked his system as he realized she wasn’t there, a dark shape under the surface making it clear what had happened. Like an eel he slipped through the water, snatching her up and lifting her head clear of the surface.
She sputtered and spewed water everywhere for a second before her lungs started to rise and fall with big, rushed breaths.
“Are you okay?” he asked, the class coming to a halt around them.
“Yeah,” she gasped, letting herself be hauled up into his arms freely this time, resting her head on his chest as water droplets beaded and poured down her face. “I think I might have overdone it though.”
“Did you drown?”
“No. I was still holding my breath. Just…” she was forced to pause, needing some air before she could continue. “Just got weak, and lightheaded. I couldn’t keep myself above water any longer. It was only for a few seconds before you pulled me out. I’m fine.” Her protests came as she tried to sit up and he kept her held tight to his frame.
“Why did you not stop? You should have taken a rest instead of pushing yourself so hard.”
Kathryn nodded. “I know. I was just feeling energetic, and good, and yeah.” She exhaled heavily. “Yeah, I should have stopped. There’s no need to show off here.”
Callan’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Show off? What do you mean? This is to help you rehab, no?”
“Well yeah, but I mean…never mind,” she said, closing her eyes to avoid his questing look.
She obviously wasn’t telling him something, but right now didn’t seem the right time to force the issue.
“Everything okay back there?” the over-eager instructor called just a little too loudly.
“Yes,” he said, his massive head swinging around, giving anyone who looked like they were about to disagree a hard look.
The instructor seemed willing to take his word for it and quickly got the class going again.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked as Kathryn pushed away from him. There wasn’t much force behind it, but her intent was clear.
“Finishing the class,” she said stubbornly. “At a slower pace,” she amended as he focused his heavy gaze upon her.
It seemed like a terrible decision. She’d been mere moments away from drowning until he’d reached her. Now she wanted to go back into the water un-aided and do more of what got her in trouble in the first place?
Callan grimaced, getting ready to put up a fight, but stopped at the slight twitch of Kathryn’s eyebrow. Of course. She was well aware he was going to put up a fight, and that little look had been her getting ready to entrench herself to defend her choice. In other words, it was pointless of him to argue. So Callan did the only smart thing.
He caved without a word. “Very well.”
But I’m going to be keeping an eye on you the entire time my Katy, and if you don’t like it, too bad. Good luck out-stubborning a dragon when they set their minds to it.
The irony of his thoughts was lost on the oversized dragon shifter as he settled back, his gaze pinned firmly on the back of Kathryn.
Chapter Nine
Kathryn
“You really didn’t have to do this. I’m positive it’s not in your job description,” she said, twisting the key to open the door.
“Neither is working with you past six in the evening.”
It was already six thirty, a fact that made his point clear: Callan wasn’t doing this because he was hired to. He was doing it because he wanted to.
“My mother is going to have a fit,” she muttered, directing him where to set the bags of groceries down on the counter so she could go through them and put them in their specific spots.
Her mother had a system, and you didn’t mess with that system. Not if you wanted to eat.
Callan grew defensive, his head looking around. “Well, may as well call her. Let’s get it over with now then.”
Kathryn laughed. “Not to worry, fearless warrior. She’s out at the one luxury she allows herself every week. Bingo at the church hall runs until nine, and she’ll gossip with the other women until at least ten, and then home before eleven. So you’ve got at least three, maybe four hours before you need to hightail it out of here to avoid her wrath.”
The big man shook his head. “I don’t get it. Why would she be mad?”
“For the same reason I’m not completely comfortable with it, Cal. We know we don’t have much money, and to accept things like this is like accepting charity and handouts, something my mother prides herself on never having done.”
“So tell her I took you to the grocery store for some juice because you got lightheaded, and we entered a contest they had set up that won us some free groceries.”
Kathryn stopped where she was putting the bananas away
in the “fruit section” and stared up at him.
“What?”
“Are you always this devious?”
“When it comes to being nice? No. Never. I’m not used to having so much resistance over such a simple act as ensuring that you two are fed for the next few days.”
Kathryn looked at him, trying to gauge his seriousness, then back at the bags of food, then again at Callan. “How much do you eat?” she asked, half-joking half-serious. “This will last us close to two weeks!”
Callan jerked upright. “Two weeks? Impossible. You clearly aren’t getting enough nutrition in your body then if this is all you need for two weeks. Both you and your mother need to start eating better. Eating more.”
Her face screwed up tight. “Eat more? Callan, look at me.”
“Yes, you’re too skinny.”
This time she couldn’t help it. Her jaw fell open. “Too…skinny? You’re joking, right? Look at your muscles.”
“Dead serious,” he replied in the deep bass voice he got when he didn’t appreciate being challenged. “You need to build up your strength. Eat more.”
“Right. See, on a basic level, we agree with each other. I love to eat—”
“Perfect. I’ll cook,” he said, lurching into motion.
“Wait wait wait.” She waved her hands to get his attention. “There’s a but there, mister.”
Callan nodded. “Yes, a nice butt. Needs more food though.”
“A nice…oh.” His speech was confusing her, but she picked up on his meaning soon enough. “That is not what I meant and you know it,” she told him, feeling her face tingle with pins and needles that let her know she was probably blushing from the compliment.
“Maybe. Maybe not,” he told her, being dismissive on purpose now she was sure. “Still true.”
“I can’t eat more,” she said firmly. “Or else I’ll gain more weight. I’m not mobile or recovered enough now to burn it off.”
“Why would you want to do that? You’re too skinny,” he said, waggling his fingers at her from head to toe.
“What’s with the sudden simple-talk?” She decided to switch gears. “Did you suddenly forget how to speak while telling me you’ve been checking out my butt?”