Trust the Moon

by Jamie Craig

  “Thanks for inviting me to dinner.” Her palms were sweaty again, but Dylan’s reassuring squeeze did a lot to calm her racing nerves. “I know what it’s like to want to keep Dylan all for yourself, so I appreciate you sharing him tonight.”

  Cory and Dylan both had dark hair, but Irene’s was closer to a strawberry blonde. She also had a wide, welcoming smile, and when her brown eyes trained on Gena, she felt like she might have been the only person in the room.

  “We’re happy that you could join us. Dylan can be so secretive sometimes. He wouldn’t tell us anything about you.”

  “Mom, I didn’t ask her to come in so you could interview her,” Dylan warned.

  “Would you like something to drink?” Mr. Peterson asked.

  She almost asked for a beer to relax her, but thought better of it. “Just water, thanks.” When Dylan led her to a stool at the breakfast bar, she hopped onto it gratefully, relieved she could hide some of her anxious fidgeting from their immediate view. “So…how was Hawaii?”

  Conversation filled the next hour, as Irene and Cory told stories about swimming in the Pacific, flying over the volcanoes, and trying to learn how to surf. Gena laughed at the image of Mr. Peterson getting knocked over repeatedly by monster waves, which earned her a pleased smile from Dylan, followed by a quick caress across her cheek the next time he came around the bar. Irene stopped every once in a while to instruct Dylan on what to do next, but Gena didn’t have time to grow uncomfortable with the shifted focus. All three of them kept finding ways to include her, even if it was just a request to test the doneness of a roasted carrot.

  Dylan was clearly only listening with half an ear when he stopped short and straightened at an off-hand comment Irene made about diving as deep as she could into the ocean. “You mean, you went scuba diving, right?”

  “Well, the first time.”

  “You went swimming in the ocean as a fish? Are you serious?”

  “It was perfectly safe, Dylan. We were fine.”

  “You could have been eaten by a shark or something. I can’t even believe how dangerous that was,” Dylan protested.

  “But we weren’t eaten by a shark. Besides, I didn’t want to go to the ocean so I could safely view it from the beach. I wanted to experience it. I wanted to be submerged in it.” She glanced over to her son. “It was dangerous when you used to sneak out, but we couldn’t keep you in the house for anything when the moon was out.”

  “That was different,” Dylan muttered, returning his attention to the salad he was mixing.

  “Not really, son.”

  “I think it sounds amazing,” Gena ventured. She refused to flinch when everyone looked at her. “I’ve done that in Utah Lake, but I’ll bet it doesn’t even compare to the ocean.”

  “Oh, the lakes around here can’t compare to the ocean. Not at all. For one thing, the Pacific is so warm. And so clear. You could see for miles in every direction. And all the fish were like little jewels.” Irene sighed. “I already miss it.”

  “When you were looking for miles in every direction, were you looking out for sharks?” Dylan asked.

  She pulled him into a half hug. “I thought I was supposed to worry about you. But if it makes you feel better, yes, I was looking out for sharks.” Irene released Dylan and turned her attention back to Gena. “If you ever want to go for a swim without this worrywart, let me know. Utah Lake is better than nothing.”

  Though Gena nodded, the offer disquieted her. Dylan’s runs beneath the moon were one thing, but Irene’s yearning for the ocean didn’t mesh with everything Gena believed about the shifters who chose to live in Delta. The more she heard from both his parents, the more it felt like she’d never really known them at all. These were glimpses into people she recognized on a baser level than job titles. These were people she actually thought she could understand.

  “I understand Dylan’s thing about the moon, though,” she said. “We’ve had some really glorious ones while you’ve been away.”

  “I wish I could say that the glorious ones were the only ones that caught his attention. But the only time we ever got a night of sleep was when there was no moon at all.”

  “Yes, I was a rotten kid,” Dylan drawled. “And I think this chicken is done.”

  The three worked together to transfer the meal from the kitchen to the dining room table. Irene thrust a basket of rolls in Gena’s hands without warning, and she felt a little bemused as she followed Irene to the table, which had already been laid out by Cory.

  “Are you going to carve the bird?” Cory asked.

  “I think I can handle it,” Dylan answered. He looked over to Gena. “You get first pick. What would you like?”

  “Anything dark.” Then, because she remembered where she was, “Please.”

  Dylan grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”

  It turned out that he could definitely handle the knife, and he quartered the bird with precision, passing her a leg and thigh before turning his attention to his parents’ plates. The potatoes and vegetables followed, and Dylan even took the time to refill his drink before he sat beside her.

  “This is my grandmother’s recipe,” Dylan said. “Whenever we would visit, she would make like ten chickens. I love the way the meat just melts in your mouth.”

  Gena took a bite and couldn’t suppress her small moan of agreement. The rich meat really did seem to melt in her mouth as flavor exploded against her tongue. She couldn’t name all the spices that were used in the dish, but it didn’t matter. Not as long as Dylan always kept the exact recipe on hand.

  “Worth sticking around?” Dylan asked.

  “Definitely.” On a whim, she brushed a kiss across his cheek, lingering long enough to make it count, but not so long to make it uncomfortable for him with their audience. “Thank you for inviting me.” Turning back to his parents, she gave them a smile that matched the growing swell of warmth inside her skin. “Sorry. He brings out the human in me.”

  Cory smiled. “This isn’t high school. I won’t warn you to stay arm’s length away from the boys.”

  “Like that ever worked with anybody,” Dylan said.

  “It worked. Eat your chicken.”

  Instead of focusing on his food, Dylan leaned over and returned the caress. With his mouth close to her ear, he whispered, “I think they’d be scandalized if I admit you bring out the animal in me.”

  The temptation to forget their meal and drag him out right then was great. Gena satisfied it for the time being with a duck of her head and a murmured, “Looks like we both win, then.”

  She didn’t remember much of dinner. She tasted the food, moaning at the first delectable bites of each serving, and she laughed at the appropriate places in their conversation, contributing more and more as the meal progressed. But when the table was being cleared, and Irene was shooing both her and Dylan out of the dining room, all Gena knew was that she couldn’t recall in recent memory a more pleasant time with other shifters that didn’t involve being naked with Dylan in some way. It was even better than the barbecue had been.

  “I like them,” she said when he pulled her out onto the back porch. She leaned against the rail and hooked her finger through his belt loop to pull him between her legs. “Your dad’s not nearly as boring as I remember him from high school.”

  “Yeah, I noticed the same thing. Sometime after I turned twenty, I realized that he wasn’t so bad after all.” Dylan rested his hands on either side of her, trapping her against the rail. “I’m glad you stayed. It really does mean a lot to me.”

  “As long as I didn’t embarrass you with some of my fuck-ups.” It felt important for the Petersons to like her, a feeling so alien Gena wasn’t even sure it was genuine or another product of her anxiety. “Besides, where else was I going to go? You were here. That pretty much settles the question, don’t you think?”

  Dylan sighed and rested his chin on her shoulder. “No. I don’t think it’s that easy at all.”

  “Why?” She nuzzled ag
ainst his cheek and pulled him even closer, stealing warmth from his hard body. “I was wrong about how I reacted when I got here. I told you that.”

  “It’s not that. It’s…” One arm snuck around her, and it felt like a steel band against her back. “I don’t think I could love you any more than I do tonight, and I don’t know what I’m going to do when you leave again.”

  “What?” She had to pull back. She had to see his eyes. She had to know if he was going to take it back as a slip of the tongue, or joke about having had too much to drink at dinner, or anything that might reverse the declaration now hanging between them. When it never happened, she swallowed once to wet her dry throat and said, “You’ve never said that word to me before.”

  “Well…I didn’t really know if you wanted to hear me say it.”

  And she knew why. “Because you expect me to leave. Because that’s what I do.”

  “I don’t blame you, Gena. After everything Dad told me…after everything you told me. I don’t blame you, and if I were in your shoes, I don’t know if I’d do anything differently.”

  She immediately thought of his invitation to live with him. And the way he’d been willing to brush off his own plans when she’d made a small gesture in return. The way he treated her like she was the center of his world. The way he held her in bed, and kissed her cheek when he thought she was asleep. The way he made her laugh, and held her hand when they walked. Everything he did told her he wanted her any way he could have her, any way that was true to herself, even if it went against everything he believed in personally. Because he loved her. Unconditionally. Gena suspected that if she walked away from him then and fled into the inviting night, he wouldn’t stop loving her. He might follow her, or he might lure her back to Delta, but he’d always be there. In her life. In her heart.

  He didn’t want to live without her, and now she understood that she didn’t have to live without him. She placed her palm over his heart, while her trembling hand mapped the strong line of his jaw.

  “Being in Delta is hard.” When his lips parted to speak again, she covered them with her fingertips. “I didn’t say it was impossible.”

  “Are you…you’re saying you’d be willing to try?” He spoke slowly, like he wanted to give her a chance to jump in and deny it. “With me?”

  “I’m saying…” Possibilities stretched out in front of her like a blanket of twinkling stars. Choices there for the taking. The unattainable suddenly not so far away. She said the only thing she could, the only thing that really mattered. “I wasn’t kidding about what I said to your parents inside. You make me want more than just the bare necessities I’ve had. And you make me think I can actually get them.” She met his eyes and hoped he could see in hers the same emotion that radiated from his. Now that she recognized what it was, it choked her with its intensity, but somehow she managed, “I don’t want to leave again. Not if it means leaving you behind.”

  “Really? I didn’t think…I mean, I hoped. I fantasized. But I didn’t think…” He gripped the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair, and claimed her mouth with all the exuberance she sensed from him when he raced through the desert. Suddenly, it didn’t matter that they were on his parents’ back porch. Gena only knew Dylan’s lips, and the joy she sensed every time his tongue swept into her mouth.

  She clung to him for long seconds and longer minutes, lost in the magic that had always exploded between them. As familiar as it was, though, something new colored each kiss. There was…a sense of wholeness. Like rolling over in the moments before dawn and finding his body in the dark waiting for her to claim. Like catching his eye and smiling at the same time. Like an answering howl under a moonlit sky.

  Like coming home.

  About the Author

  Jamie Craig is the sum of two wholes: erotica writers Pepper Espinoza and Vivien Dean. Pepper has been writing since she was a child, but began her professional writing career in 2005 and now writes full time as well as teaching writing composition at the local community college. A former resident of Los Angeles, she now lives in Utah. Vivien, the daughter of an author and sportswriter, also began writing at an early age, but eventually explored storytelling through acting and film production before coming back to prose. Vivien, her British husband and two children live in Northern California.

  To learn more about Jamie Craig, please visit www.jamie-craig.com. Send an email to Jamie at jamie@jamie-craig.com.

  Look for these titles by Jamie Craig

  Now Available:

  Liaisons in Jubilee

  Craving Kismet

  Trinity Broken

  A Hidden Beauty

  Querida

  No Fear in Love

  Trust the Moon

  Their love knew no shape, no limit, no boundary. Until someone destroyed their trust.

  Trinity Broken

  © 2007 Jamie Craig

  Scientist Joshua Ames committed the unforgivable sin. He fell in love with his research subjects, shapeshifters Cameron and Sara. Despite the taboo against humans mingling with shifters, Josh left his life behind and moved into theirs without regret.

  Then Sara disappeared.

  When Josh and Cam finally find her, she is unconscious, emaciated and shackled. They thought the hard part was living without her. But as soon as Sara wakes, they realize the hard part will be putting their lives back together.

  Sara barely remembers life with Cam and Josh. All she remembers is a monster, a shifter who wore Cam’s face, who tortured and tested her for two long years. Without a home, conditioned to fear her own abilities, Sara struggles to start over.

  Solving the mystery behind Sara’s kidnapping is the key to her recovery, because whoever destroyed their relationship is hunting her, intent on getting her back.

  The truth could bring the three lovers peace—or send them spiraling apart.

  Warning, this title contains the following: explicit sex including m/m and m/m/f, graphic language, violence.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Trinity Broken:

  Sara sat up against the headboard. Without looking away from Cam, she slowly shut her eyes and inhaled.

  “That’s good,” Josh said.

  “Now, we want to clear your mind. When you exhale, focus on how you feel when you breathe, what your lungs are doing. With your next breath, just focus on how it feels to inhale.”

  Cam’s voice sounded softer with her eyes closed, like the caress of a warm summer wind. Following his instruction was frighteningly simple, and when she took in a second breath, she loosened the fingers she’d had crushed around Josh’s, the sensation of her chest rising and falling hypnotic.

  He coaxed her through the breathing exercise for what could have been several minutes. His voice was lulling, even soothing, and soon, she could feel Josh’s breath begin to echo hers, like he was following the same directions.

  “Now I want you to think about the first form you ever shifted into. I want you to think about every single detail. What did it feel like to shift? What did you look like? Recreate it.”

  It was a memory she had relived more than once. Josh had been fascinated by the stories of her childhood, and even Cam had been amused and more than a little impressed when he heard how early she’d done her first shift.

  She was two, and the world was a loud place, with laughter and the television blaring in the background and her father playing Santana’s ‘Abraxas’ over and over and over again. And there was Tofu curled up under the coffee table, her long black tail swishing around the wooden legs.

  It was easy to crawl over, easy not to get stopped, not so easy to actually catch the cat’s tail before Tofu woke up and leapt out of the way, jumping to the window ledge and glaring down at Sara with narrowed eyes. Her mother went out into the kitchen, and her father trailed afterward, and all Sara could see was the cat’s black tail, sweeping along the wall beneath the ledge.

  The weight of Josh’s arm disappeared, and the mattress moved beneath her bottom
. It took Sara a moment to realize that the bed hadn’t shifted.

  She had.

  Sara immediately backed into Josh’s body, trying to wedge herself in the space between his back and the bed.

  “Sara.” Cam’s voice startled her, and she ducked against the pillows.

  “Hey,” Josh murmured, lifting her and repositioning her on the bed. “Be careful there.”

  “Sara, don’t tense up and be frightened. You’ll lose your concentration. Look.”

  Her nose quivered as Cam’s distinct smell faded, replaced by the scent of another cat.

  Opening her eyes felt odd this time, especially with her perspective unexpectedly altered. Josh’s legs were mountains in front of her, while on the chair sat a large ginger tom. With blue eyes.

  Her tail flicked.

  Cam only blinked.

  She should have been terrified. Just because she couldn’t see his face didn’t mean she didn’t know it was Cam sitting there. And her captors had made him—the other him—shift in front of her all the time. That was his whole purpose for being there, she’d reasoned.

  However, they’d never had him shift into an everyday, normal housecat. This wasn’t scary. She’d seen him, fought him, even flown with him, in guises more dangerous than this one.

  Her tail flicked again.

  Cam dropped to his haunches, wiggled his back legs, and then sprang across to the foot of the bed. He walked up Josh’s legs, coming to a rest on Josh’s stomach.

  “Thanks, Cam. You weigh a ton,” Josh said, but didn’t push him away.

  From his perch, Cam looked down at her and blinked. He chattered softly—a sound not quite a meow—then dropped his head to rub it against Josh’s chest.

  Sara tilted her head. It looked appealing, especially when Josh lifted his hand to begin scratching Cam behind the ears. But his lap looked small, and there would be no avoiding Cam if she attempted to get any closer. There would be the warmth of their bodies, yes, but even as that called to her, it also raised an iota of fear, and she began to back away, her paws awkward as she navigated the soft terrain.