by J. K Harper
“No. I don’t have any family.”
“Everyone has family,” he said.
“My mom was a meth addict,” she said. “The state took me away from her when I was ten years old. I bounced around a few foster homes, but no one adopted me. The day I turned eighteen, they kicked me out with nothing but the clothes on my back. I’ve been on my own ever since.”
“Wow.” He turned to gaze at her. “So you’ve been alone your whole life?”
“Most of the time. But I do have friends. I’m not a total loner.”
“Do you have a boyfriend?” he asked.
“Not at the moment.”
“Good.” He leaned back on his elbows, a grin spreading across his face.
“Good, hmm?” She mimicked his position. Desire fluttered in her belly. She welcomed the change in mood. Although she wanted to know more about him, she didn’t want to pry into his obviously painful past.
“How is it that you managed to stay single?” he asked. “You’re smart and beautiful. Most men would jump at the chance to date you.”
“Well, I—uh, I mean—I date. I get dates.” Flustered by his compliment, she stumbled over her words. “You sure are direct.”
“Almost dying will do that to you.” He flashed a disarming grin before turning serious again. “While I was lying in the hospital I made a decision that would change my entire life. I’d already escaped death, so I vowed to live every day as if it would be my last. Not in a fearful way, but in a celebratory way.”
“Is that why you travel so much?” she asked.
“Absolutely. The day I went back to work, I quit.”
“What kind of job did you have?” she asked.
“Investment banker.”
“You were a banker?” She couldn’t contain her incredulous tone.
“Yep. I spent seven years on Wall Street. I was getting burnt out anyway, but the accident was the final straw. I quit and never looked back.”
“What do you do for work now?” she asked.
“A little of this, a little of that. I don’t really need to work. I was always good at saving money and I still have all of my investments. So now I just work for fun.”
“That sounds amazing. What’s the most interesting job you’ve had?”
“I’ve had some incredible experiences,” he said. “I don’t really know if I can rank them, but the one that really jumps out at me happened last year. I spent October and part of November on a crab boat in the Bering Sea.”
“Oh, like on that TV show?” she asked.
“Yep. I used to watch it and think, eh, it can’t be that hard. Wrong! The deck pitched back and forth in twenty-foot waves making it almost impossible to stand. I had to get my sea legs fast or risk falling overboard.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
“It’s considered one of the most dangerous jobs in America,” he said.
“And you ran headfirst into it?” she asked.
“I never said I was smart.”
When he winked, liquid heat rushed down to pool in her core. His cocky smile sent her bear into a frenzy of lust. The beast pranced around her chest demanding that she mate with him. Stupid bear. It only ever wanted three things—sex, food, and sleep. Her bear’s obsessive nature would get her into all kinds of trouble if she didn’t rein the beast in.
But could she really blame the creature? Jack’s ab muscles rippled with every breath. A few drops of water still clung to his hair, giving him a wet, carnal appeal. And he wasn’t doing much to hide his interest. If she wanted him, she had no doubt she could have him. But she couldn’t give in to her desire and allow herself to become distracted. If she could just hurry up and design something amazing, then she’d have room to breathe again. But until she produced a clay-constructed miracle, she’d have to keep her paws to herself.
* * *
Jack scooped a spoonful of caramel apple pie into his mouth. Cinnamon, sugar, and the tart crunch of apples danced across his tongue as he chewed in ecstasy. He’d never tasted anything so magical in his life. Rumors about Madison’s inability to cook seemed completely unfounded. Mack and Logan must have been exaggerating when they were joking about her cooking skills.
Across the dining room table, Sasha’s eyes fluttered closed as she enjoyed the same dessert. A drop of apple pie sauce shimmered at the corner of her mouth. He suppressed the urge to hurl himself over the table to lick it off. Maybe later. Even though they’d spent the entire afternoon together, he wanted more time with her. He planned on whisking her away after dinner. She just didn’t know it yet.
“I hope everyone enjoyed dinner,” Madison said. “I have coffee and hot chocolate in the kitchen for anyone who wants it. As always, feel free to grab a snack if you need one. I know we have some very hungry bears here this week.”
“When I’m painting, I have to stop to let the oils dry,” Mary Margaret said. “My bear appreciates the snacks.”
“I’m glad you like them,” Madison said. “There’s more dessert too if anyone wants any.”
“I’ll have more.” Mack hopped up and strolled into the kitchen.
When he returned with a huge piece of pie, Jack’s bear roared. Even though he was stuffed, the beast wanted more. Typical. He never seemed satiated by anything anymore. He’d traveled the globe and had eaten in some of the finest restaurants, but nothing could compare to a good home-cooked meal.
After another furtive glance at the pie, he promised his bear they could have another bite later tonight. He couldn’t risk a trip into the kitchen when Sasha looked ready to leave. She scraped the last few crumbs off of her plate and licked the fork. That time, she caught him staring.
“Tasty?” he asked.
“This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten in my life,” she said. “I’m going to have to get the recipe before I leave.”
“You’re going to have to pry it out of her cold, dead hands,” Mack said between bites.
“A chef has to guard her secrets.” Madison grinned. “How will I get anyone to come back if they learn all of my culinary tricks?”
“I bet you could write a cookbook,” Jack said.
“I’ve thought about it,” Madison said. “Maybe I’ll write one someday. I have a lot of Mack’s mom’s old recipes.”
“That would be fun, honey,” Mack said as he leaned over to kiss her cheek.
“I couldn’t cook like you even with a recipe to follow,” Sasha said. “If I could burn water, I would.”
“I know a little about burning things,” Madison said. “But you get better with practice.”
“Now I just need someone to practice on.” When Sasha looked directly at Jack, a flicker of desire coiled in his belly. His bear forgot about the food and turned his attention toward her.
“I’m going to start putting the leftovers in the fridge,” Madison said. “But again, eat up. The kitchen’s always open.”
“Thank you,” several people responded in unison.
As Sasha pushed back from the table, Jack scrambled out of his chair. He caught up with her at the base of the staircase.
“Do you have anything planned for tonight?” he asked.
“I have a date with a hard lump of clay.”
“Sounds serious,” he joked.
“We’re in a love-hate relationship.”
“Maybe you should break up.”
She laughed. “What are you up to tonight?”
“I was headed out to take a walk around the lake. Would you like to join me?” His heart beat faster as he waited for her delayed response.
“Well … I should be working on my project…”
“We could work off some of the apple pie so we can have more later.”
“You really know how to tempt me,” she said.
“So?” He held out his arm. “Can I be your date tonight?”
“Well … you are more interesting than a block of clay.” She looped her arm through his. “I guess I can procrastinate a few more minut
es.”
“Don’t worry, princess, I’ll get you back before you turn into a pumpkin.”
Her soft laughter warmed his heart. Over the years, he’d spent time with several women, but none had held his attention the way she did. After several weeks, he’d end up bored and ready for a new experience. For the first time in years, he didn’t want to be anywhere else in the world.
After slipping a thick wool jacket over her shoulders, he ushered her into the brisk night. The moon rose over the mountains to cast a silvery glow across the landscape. He’d watched the moon rise over the Taj Mahal, the pyramids of Giza, and the Eiffel Tower, but none of those moments compared to this one.
“The lake’s so beautiful,” Sasha said.
“Yeah,” he murmured, but he wasn’t looking at the lake.
The reflection of moonlight off her hair was enchanting. He couldn’t tear his gaze away. Soft red strands curled around her shoulders. Her wool dress hugged every voluptuous curve. His fingers tingled with the need to touch her. He shoved his hands in his pockets.
“Let’s go that way.” He jerked his head to the left.
“Sounds good.”
She looped her fingers through his arm. Heat seeped through his shirt to warm his flesh and goosebumps popped up where she touched him. Desire swept through him with enough force to awaken his bear. The beast stretched and inhaled her subtle, floral perfume. He released a low growl which rumbled in his chest.
“Your bear’s restless,” she said.
“Do you ever have that problem with yours?” he asked.
“Sometimes. If I don’t feed her, she turns into a little monster.”
“Mine too.” He was hungry all right, but not for food. He quickly changed the subject. “So, how did you get into art?”
“When I was growing up in foster care, I didn’t have a lot of friends. I spent a lot of time alone. Art became the only way I could express myself in a way that made people pay attention. I had some amazing teachers in high school who encouraged me to become an artist.”
“Did you go to college?” he asked.
“No. After I graduated, I was too busy trying to figure out how to survive. I took waitressing jobs and worked at the bank as a cashier for a while, but I never felt truly alive unless I was creating something. I think that’s why I’m so disturbed by my inability to create something right now.”
“You’ll figure it out.” He pulled his hand out of his pocket and wrapped it around her waist. As he pulled her closer, she leaned into him. “When did you quit to be a full-time artist?”
“Five years ago. I guess I was blessed with immediate success. I know artists usually struggle for several years before they’re able to sustain themselves. In a way, I wonder if it spoiled me.”
“Why would you think that?” he asked.
“I never really knew what it was like to fail until now,” she said. “I honestly didn’t think I’d ever run out of ideas.”
“It happens.”
“Not to me.”
“I think you’re stressing yourself out too much,” he said. “If you relax a bit, you’ll come up with something.”
“I’ve tried to calm down. I swear. Yoga. Meditation. I even listened to a few self-help books.” The level of tension in her voice rose. “Nothing’s working.”
“Hey.” He stopped and pulled her into his arms. When she didn’t meet his gaze, he tilted her chin up. “Inspiration will come to you when you least expect it. In the meantime, you need to get out of your head.”
“And how am I supposed to do that?” she asked.
Her pouty bottom lip caught his attention. He knew exactly how he could make her relax, but he hesitated. If he started down this path with her, he’d have to go through the inevitable moment of disappointment when he left her for his next adventure. Her fragile state gave him pause.
“Any ideas?” Her husky voice sent a shiver of need down his spine.
“I can’t,” he said. “At the end of the week, I’m leaving for Bali. I don’t want to start something I have no intention of finishing.”
“What if I’m okay with that?” she asked.
He swallowed and looked away from her sultry gaze. “I don’t want to let you down.”
“I doubt you’ve ever let anyone down,” she said.
“I have.” He pulled back and shoved his hands back into his pockets.
“Who?” When he didn’t respond, she quickly added, “Never mind. You don’t have to tell me if it’s too personal.”
“I let my family down,” he blurted. God, why was he telling her this? He’d never talked to anyone about his past, yet he couldn’t stop revealing little bits of the darkness in his soul to her.
“What happened?” she whispered.
“They blame me for killing my brother,” he said.
“In the plane crash?”
“Yes.” His jaw twitched as he balled his fists up. “Rationally, I know they’re wrong. But that doesn’t matter. They lost all ability to reason after my brother died. I was never enough for them. He was the golden child. He’d landed a full ride to Yale on an academic scholarship. He played every sport at school and had mastered most of them. He could do anything he set his mind to.”
“I’m sure you were just as smart and capable,” she said.
“No.” He shook his head. “Numbers were the only thing I was ever good at. I couldn’t throw a football to save my life. Basketballs refuse to go through a hoop for me. I couldn’t hit a baseball if it was thrown by a six-year-old.”
“There’s more to life than sports prowess,” she said.
“It was my fault that we were on that plane,” he confessed. “I made us late for the flight. I was in bed with the CFO of a company I was interested in investing in. I was using her to get inside information. If I hadn’t been trying to cheat the system, we wouldn’t have missed the flight, and we never would have been on the plane that crashed.”
His stomach churned with acid. A sharp pain zigzagged through his chest. As the weight of his mistake crashed over him, he hung his head.
“It’s not your fault,” she said. “It was a cruel twist of fate that you ended up on that plane.”
“Tell that to my family.”
She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. As she rested her cheek on his chest, he fought back a wave of unwanted emotion. He hated thinking about the accident and about his family’s reaction to it. But the more she held him, the less it hurt.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know that it wasn’t my fault.”
“It’s easy to let your emotions take over. I do it all the time and logic goes right out the window,” she said.
“I still have nightmares.”
“About the accident?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” he said.
“It’s not yours either.”
She tilted her head back to look up at him. His gaze fell to her lips. In that moment, a rush of exquisite longing coursed through his body. He wanted her, needed her. But he couldn’t kiss her without considering the consequences. She was too sweet, too gentle to ruin. He’d left a trail of shattered relationships in his wake and he knew she wouldn’t be any different.
“I’ll never stop in one place long enough to settle down,” he whispered. “That’s why I can’t—I just can’t do this with you. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Are you still running from your past?” she asked. “It that why you can’t stop?”
“I’m not running,” he said with more force than he’d intended. “I feel like I’ve been given a second chance at life. Before the accident, I languished in a dead-end job. I had no goals and no future mapped out.”
“What are your goals now? What future do you have mapped out?” she asked. “It seems like you’re still drifting.”
He pulled back and stared at her. “I have goals.”
“Really? Like w
hat?”
“You don’t get out of an accident like that unless God has a grand plan for you,” he said.
“Okay. So what’s your grand purpose?”
“I don’t know yet. That’s why I’m still searching.” His patience waned. Why was she challenging him like this? She’d gone from soft and sweet to a challenging interrogator.
“Have you ever considered that maybe your purpose in life is just to enjoy it?” she asked softly. “Maybe you’re supposed to find a place to put down roots. Maybe your destiny is to live a simple life with a family who loves you.”
“My family doesn’t love me anymore,” he snapped.
“I don’t mean them. They obviously have their own issues,” she said.
“It’s not in my nature to settle down. Besides, if getting married and having kids is so great, why haven’t you done it?” The minute the words left his mouth he knew he’d crossed a line. He regretted his hasty attack, but she’d backed him into a corner. She should have known better than to do that to another shifter.
“I dated,” she muttered.
The hurt in her tone cut through his gut. God, he was such an idiot.
“I was in a serious relationship for a while too,” she said. “But it didn’t work out.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t … I’m being an ass.”
“Do you always get like this when you talk about your family?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he admitted. “I hate talking about them, about the accident. I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this anyway.”
“Maybe you need to talk to someone.”
“Like a shrink?” he asked.
“No. A friend.”
“I don’t have any,” he said.
“Yes you do.” She reached for his hand.
“Why would you want to talk to me after tonight? This conversation definitely didn’t go the way I had planned.”
“Really?” She cocked her head to one side and flashed a smile. “And what was your plan?”
“I was going to sweet talk you until you couldn’t resist my charms and carry you off to my bed.”
“Really?” She arched a brow.
“No.” He chuckled. “But a guy can dream.”